One minute later, Tang Wen burst in, clearly agitated. Little Sprout innocently covered her face, flapping her wings, and fled in a panic.

Tang Wen knelt beside Ziye, checking her breathing. He shook his head slightly, then reached under her armpit, pulling her out of the water.

He lifted her into a horizontal carry, brought her back to the guest room, laid her on the sofa, and quickly activated the comms unit to summon someone to attend to her. At this moment, it wasn't that Tang Wen didn't want to handle things himself; it was that he was utterly incapable of doing so.

It was only then that he starkly realized how muchブラン had spoiled him to the point of being unable to manage basic self-care, let alone care for someone else. He sat down beside her, watching Ziye without blinking.

Perhaps from soaking in the hot spring, her cheeks were flushed, like a perfectly ripe big apple. "Mmm, much better than her usual pale look," Tang Wen murmured to himself, reaching out to pinch her cheek.

Ziye was sound asleep and didn't stir. She was past seventeen, a season that balanced rawness and maturity.

For some inexplicable reason, a sudden fire ignited in Tang Wen's lower abdomen, burning so fiercely he couldn't control himself. He had always wanted to protect her, treating her like a younger sister, like his own kin.

But now, he suddenly felt he couldn't continue to cherish her as a sister... Tang Wen's thoughts began to drift, and the hand pinching Ziye's cheek tightened.

Unintentionally, he pinched her hard enough to wake her with a jolt! Ziye mumbled groggily, "Stop messing around, alien." (⊙o⊙) Tang Wen felt as if a basin of ice water had been dumped over him, chilling him to the bone.

An Junlie—she was calling out An Junlie's name! How could she be thinking of An Junlie?!!!

Tang Wen gripped both sides of her face with both hands, squeezing hard in a fit of pique, and demanded fiercely, "Look at who I am!" Ziye, dizzy from his rough handling, managed to pry open a sliver of her eyes. She saw the blurry image of Tang Wen before her, his face flushed with anger, looking remarkably beautiful.

She mumbled, "Oh, it's you, you big jerk Tang." After a few seconds, she said, as if in a dream, "You look really good when you're angry, much better than when you keep a straight face." Big Jerk Tang suddenly had an overwhelming urge to throw her into the hot spring—no, into the bathtub—and douse her with cold water until she woke up properly. This was too much!

Mr. Tang Wen felt his spirit had sustained severe damage.

He didn't want to deal with this little brat at all anymore. How could Little Sprout think he was the devil when the true Great Devil was standing right in front of her!

The Great Devil who was shattering his heart to the point where he couldn't breathe... The attendant, having received the notice, hurried to Ziye’s quarters and was slightly surprised to see Tang Wen emerging, looking crestfallen.

Naturally, as a highly trained attendant, she instantly flashed a standard eight-toothed smile, stood aside to see him off, and then decisively activated the resort’s internal communication system to report to the supervisor: "Young Master's expression is off; is everything alright?" The supervisor’s reply came back: "Received. Please continue to fulfill your duties." The attendant acknowledged, cut the transmission, and headed toward Ziye's room to provide careful service.

Tang Wen did not return to his quarters but instead proceeded to the most suitable observation room. The room, encased in transparent glass on three sides, extended out over the sea, offering views of the purest, most beautiful waves.

Sitting inside, one could feel the vastness of the sky and the immensity of the ocean without ever leaving the room. He hadn't been seated long when his comms unit chimed.

It was Stas, whom he hadn't seen in a long time. "Well, well, Coffin Face, sporting a rosy glow!

Has Cupid finally struck?" On the screen, Stas grinned mischievously. Tang Wen shot him a cold glance and moved to shut down the screen.

Damn Stas Bear, bringing up the most unwelcome topics! Stas hastily interjected, "Brother, don't be so harsh.

I have something important to discuss." Tang Wen replied impatiently, "Spit it out." His expression held a faint displeasure, and a subtle flush warmed his refined face, making him look stunningly attractive. Stas nodded, commenting, "I'm telling you, Coffin Face, you really shouldn't be angry." Tang Wen asked, "Why?" Stas grinned broadly, "Because, brother, when you're angry, you tend to incite criminal thoughts..." Tang Wen: ...

Can't laugh, can't be angry—was he even allowed to live? When his anger reached a certain threshold, his face stopped flushing.

Instead, it became coldly taut, and he radiated an imposing, powerful aura that could intimidate anyone. Stas, familiar with him since childhood, recognized this sign immediately and dared not joke further.

He sobered his expression and asked, "Are you really planning to go home?" Tang Wen sat down on the sofa and confirmed it with a slight nod. Stas sighed.

There’s an old saying that every family has its own problems, and Tang Wen's family was no exception. He had a mother obsessed with beauty who had once won the Interstellar Natural Beauty Championship, making Tang Wen’s good looks an inevitable legacy.

His mother constantly schemed for him to become a star, or at the very least, a top male model. His father, on the other hand, had one singular goal: to groom him into a qualified heir of the Tang Clan.

His grandfather, meanwhile, poured all his knowledge of design into him without reservation. Perhaps this clash of three distinct philosophies had forced Tang Wen into his skewed development: he only wore high fashion and luxurious clothing, his methods were coolly brilliant, and his talent in design was unmatched.

However, they all forgot to teach him how to live independently. In his current state, Tang Wen was a deformed product; three days away from Brann, and he couldn't survive on his own.

Stas watched him, his thoughts drifting, but a sharp glance from Tang Wen immediately pulled his focus back. He began to wrestle with the implications of Tang Wen returning home.

Once Tang Wen returned home, even if he refused the mantle of the Tang Clan leader, his father would force him into it. At that point, all sorts of beauties might be arranged for him.

The poor child bride would certainly suffer then. Stas couldn't help but think of Ziye.

He actually understood why Tang Wen favored her. It was because Ziye shared a profound similarity in temperament with him; they meshed perfectly in action, yet their lifestyles were diametrically opposed.

Perhaps he should try to gauge the little child bride's feelings? Stas felt like Tang Wen’s worried chaperone, constantly fretting over trivial matters, even though, in reality, Tang Wen needed no such concern.

He couldn't help but ask again, "You will inherit the family business, won't you?" If Tang Wen became the leader, meetings between the two would become rare, and acquiring Interstellar Federation starship components wouldn't be as easy. As a member of the Integration Department, it was inappropriate for him to associate too closely with any single legion or prominent family—a fact that greatly annoyed Stas, though one he had to adhere to.

Of course, the most crucial reason was that he didn't want to see Tang Wen burdened with the immense responsibility of the Tang Clan. Deep down, Stas viewed Tang Wen as someone utterly unrestrained, fearless, and powerful precisely because he desired nothing.

He couldn't imagine Tang Wen, after inheriting the business, having to attend one event today and chair a meeting tomorrow, just like a legion commander...

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