“If we can sneak aboard their warship and slip out that way, it’s feasible, provided they survive long enough to let us,” An Junlie countered.
Lan Li raised an eyebrow. “So, generally, the people here don’t make it out alive?”
An Junlie nodded. “Exactly. We can snag a warship just by scavenging the remains.”
Lan Li jumped up excitedly. “Why didn’t you say so sooner!”
“You never asked!” Lan Li felt an internal ache from the frustration, entirely missing An Junlie’s barely contained smirk. Indeed, An Junlie had done it on purpose—simply because Lan Li insisted on calling him ‘Little Jun-Jun.’ Some people bring trouble upon themselves.
Having completed their preparations, the two left the forest. An Junlie, intimately familiar with the terrain, knew how to evade danger and where the wrecks would be. After staking out the area for only three days, they successfully claimed a warship.
Once aboard, An Junlie, moving with practiced ease, disabled the alarm system and shut down the ship's captain detection sequence. Settling into the co-pilot’s seat, he drawled, “Hello there, Captain. Your services are required.”
This was a battleship of the Star Federation!
Lan Li had only assumed An Junlie possessed superior physical prowess; he never suspected he was also adept with starships—a skill Lan Li simply couldn't match. This particular battleship was one of the Star Federation’s latest developments, something the Lan Clan hadn't even had the chance to examine. Lan Li was still struggling with destroyers and frigates; after fiddling with the controls for ages, he couldn't even get it moving.
An Junlie shook his head. “Let’s switch seats.”
Lan Li snapped his head up. “You know how to fly this?”
An Junlie shrugged. “Never piloted this exact model. But they should be mostly similar.”
Hearing that overconfident boast, Lan Li rolled his eyes. Mostly similar? They were worlds apart! He figured that even if An Junlie had managed to tamper with such technology while growing up in the wilderness, he certainly couldn't be better than Lan Li, who had formal training. To save face, Lan Li decided to sit in the co-pilot’s chair to watch him fail, eager to see what An Junlie would say then.
Unlike Lan Li’s fumbling attempts, An Junlie immediately brought up the battleship's self-diagnostic system, running checks while simultaneously confirming remaining energy levels, ship speed, current munitions loadout, projectile range, and shield deployment protocols...
After watching for a while, Lan Li grew bored and glanced over at the co-pilot’s console. The sight made cold sweat bead on his forehead. An Junlie had already plotted and set the exact outbound route. It was a convoluted, twisting path, yet it successfully skirted every single danger zone.
Lan Li suddenly realized he was destined to remain in the co-pilot’s seat; he simply couldn't pilot the ship with the precision needed to navigate such a route while avoiding all threats.
An Junlie finished understanding all the functions and turned to Lan Li. Lan Li immediately ceded ground. “You fly it. You can manage it, right?”
An Junlie nodded once. “Strap in. Engaging.”
With his words, the battleship lifted silently off the ground.
Watching his movements, which were remarkably smooth, Lan Li couldn’t help but ask, “Have you flown this class of battleship before?”
An Junlie observed the ascent speed—perfect, matching his prediction—and replied casually, “No.”
Lan Li was surprised. “Then how do you know how to fly it?”
An Junlie explained, “All warships function similarly. Even though designs vary between corps, the core principles remain the same. Once you master the essentials, the rest is minor detail.”
Lan Li: “...” He realized with a jolt that he had profoundly underestimated this mountain boy. While he had treated An Junlie reasonably well before, it was mostly out of obligation to the ‘life-saving benefactor’ status, and because there was no one else around. In truth, he had always held a degree of disdain for this wilderness youth and his enigmatic, wandering master. Now, he felt utterly humbled.
He finally saw the biggest difference between himself and An Junlie. He was the Young Master of the Lan Clan, groomed from birth with elite aristocratic education. He thought he stood on the shoulders of giants, unattainable to ordinary youths. Watching An Junlie handle the battleship, he understood: that shallow sense of superiority had been blocking his own path forward. An Junlie, a mere boy from the wild, was a hundred times better than him!
Lan Li suddenly felt a wave of injustice; the saying, ‘To compare is to despair,’ was indeed filled with profound truth. Since meeting An Junlie, he had learned countless lessons—and now he added two more: One, never flaunt your abilities, because the other person might be a hundred times more capable. Two, the true goal of learning to fly a warship isn't to master one specific vessel, but all of them.
He turned back to An Junlie. “Have you flown warships before, then?”
An Junlie smiled. “Sure. Once, my Master and I seized a heavy cruiser from pirates and flew it for days. Another time, we were hijacked on a space bus in the Rona System; my Master and I took over their cruiser to escape their control. And once, we were flat broke and happened to sign up when a mercenary group was recruiting; I joined to bomb some legion base.”
Lan Li: “(O.o) Can you not discuss such terrifying exploits with the same tone you’d use for small talk?”
An Junlie shrugged. “Hold tight. Beginning jump sequence.”
The jump drive engaged, streaks of white light blurring outside the viewport. Lan Li looked sadly at the star chart; he had mistaken this guy for some simple-minded fool, but he was wrong—this guy was fiercer than a tiger.
Lan Li couldn't resist asking again, “Have you lived like this since you were small?”
An Junlie considered it. “I suppose my life could be called ‘taking things as they come.’ Wherever we went, that’s where we stayed. I’ve been with my Master for as long as I can remember.”
That was a true interstellar wanderer! A ray of dawn appeared before Lan Li’s eyes; this was the life he had always dreamed of. Go whenever you want, decide where to go on the fly, living days more exciting than any sword fight, mastering all manner of survival skills. His eyes shining with excitement, he looked at An Junlie. “I’m not going home. I’m sticking with you from now on, okay?”
An Junlie refused flatly. “No.”
Lan Li frowned. “Why?”
An Junlie didn't even turn around. “You’re too weak.”
Lan Li: “...Fine. Where are we going then?”
An Junlie replied, “Once we’re clear of the danger zone, I’ll drop you off at the nearest space station, and you can head home yourself. I’m going to Wanjin City.”
Lan Li complained. “Are you just planning to use me and then ditch me?”
An Junlie countered, “Where do you want to go? Name it.”
Lan Li brightened. “I’m coming with you to Wanjin City!”
An Junlie warned him, “That place isn’t suitable for you.”
Lan Li argued back. “Why not suitable?”
An Junlie offered a rare, cutting retort. “It’s not a place where little flowers can survive.”
Lan Li asked, “Is that place that terrifying?” He cursed his sheltered upbringing; he had never even heard the name Wanjin City before.
An Junlie conceded, “Alright, if you insist on going, you can. But I won’t be accompanying you when you return.”
Lan Li flared up in exasperation. “You make me sound useless! Have you been to Wanjin City? Is it that scary?”
An Junlie stated grimly, “It’s far more terrifying than Devil’s Planet. The horror of Devil’s Planet is natural; the terror in Wanjin City is purely human.”
Hearing this, Lan Li was curious. “But usually, people can’t leave Devil’s Planet easily. Why did we get out so simply?”
An Junlie explained, “Whenever my Master and I arrive somewhere, our first priority is to find the exit. To ensure we never get trapped. My Master can detect danger zones better than any advanced instrument. Once the route is mapped, follow it, and you won’t die.”
Lan Li remembered the shadow-like old man dangling from the treetop and felt a pang of regret. If he had known the old man possessed such ability, he would have hired him for the Lan Clan immediately. The Lan Clan hadn't been as glorious in recent years as one might think; having such talent could make a resurgence effortless.
He turned to An Junlie, who was the old man’s direct disciple, capable of summoning all sorts of skills at will. Coupled with his mastery of the battleship just now, Lan Li was completely won over.
“An Junlie, please let me come to Wanjin City. I’m not some coward. How terrifying can a city really be?”
An Junlie glanced sideways at him. “The Coward Clan has more guts than you do.”
Lan Li frowned. “You’re insulting me again.”
An Junlie clarified, “That’s not what I meant. My Master and I visited the Coward Clan’s planet. After interacting with them, we found they aren't cowardly at all. They are just experts at using traps and long-range tactics. Because they dislike charging head-on into direct combat, people label them as timid.”
Lan Li sat in the co-pilot’s seat, drawing circles on the console. An Junlie, how much do you actually hate me?!
Successfully clear of space, An Junlie steered them rapidly toward a dilapidated nearby space station. Upon entry, he cleanly erased every trace of their presence, including fingerprints. He pulled Lan Li along as they slipped out of the docking bay, located a public washroom, and thoroughly scrubbed away everything they had acquired on Devil’s Planet.
An Junlie changed back into his roughspun clothes and made Lan Li do the same. Once they were disguised, Lan Li was puzzled. “Why aren’t we taking the warship?”
An Junlie replied, “The battleship still has Star Federation signatures on it. Once we leave space, the Federation will quickly trace its whereabouts. If we keep using it, we’ll be done for.”
Lan Li pressed, “That’s not the main point. The main point is, why do you possess a citizen passport?”
An Junlie squinted at him. “Just because I’m not in space doesn't mean I'm unregistered.”
Lan Li eyed the card in his hand—it was issued by some obscure, far-flung planet. An Junlie waved the card with a smile. “Passports from remote planets are very useful. No matter where you go or what you do, when people see the card, they think, Oh, a bumpkin from the boondocks, it’s understandable if he doesn’t know things.”
Lan Li: “...” Was he being mocked? He felt his fragile ego sustain significant damage.
An Junlie added, “Of course, space travel now is mostly automated by robots. As long as it’s legal, it’s fine.”
Lan Li knew he couldn't reach An Junlie’s level. He let out a silent sigh and followed closely behind.
They boarded a space bus heading toward Wanjin City. The bus could only reach the city's outer perimeter. Looking at the glittering, opulent city station ahead—more luxurious than the Star Federation headquarters—Lan Li couldn’t help but ask, “What is your purpose for coming here?”