Chapter 26

Ming Yu had the look of an Eastern beauty with mixed heritage—deep-set features, a refined bone structure. Asher inherited his eye and hair color from her, along with most of his facial features; only his physique took after his father.

The more Wu Ying looked, the angrier she got. Even that flicker of gratitude she'd felt was now reinterpreted as condescension—like someone deliberately pretending not to know what something meant to you, setting it before your eyes as if it were nothing.

He couldn't seriously expect her to weep with gratitude, could he?

Wu Ying never denied being sensitive and imaginative, and she'd always considered it one of her strengths. Now, eating her bowl of rice, she found everything about Asher irritating—even the steak on his plate seemed to offend her.

Asher glanced at her with a puzzled look. "Want some steak? There's more in the fridge; Jiujiu can make you some."

Wu Ying closed her eyes in despair, sighing inwardly. He actually thought to ask if she wanted steak, but then the next sentence was let Jiujiu make it for her!

Men—can't even spare a single piece of steak for her!

Wu Ying opened her eyes, her gaze turning into cold daggers that stabbed toward him, wishing she could bore a hole through him with each look.

The resentment was practically tangible. Asher couldn't pretend he didn't notice, but he didn't know where to begin. He quickly sliced the steak and devoured it in a blur of motion.

His movements were undeniably graceful, yet shockingly fast. Wu Ying only caught the aftermath: Asher slowly picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth.

He set down the napkin, placed both hands on the table, and said, "What's wrong? Is there something you want to tell me?" He assumed Wu Ying had been bullied by someone and didn't know how to bring it up.

Asher's tone was serious, as if he were about to start a meeting. Wu Ying shot him a glance, swallowed the rice in her mouth, and spat out a single word: "Scram."

The chair scraped loudly as he stood abruptly. Asher ignored it and headed straight for his study.

Wu Ying turned to watch his resolute back and slowly rolled her eyes. She hadn't missed the way his eyes had nearly dilated in shock a moment ago.

He must have been taken aback, pressing his lips together and leaving without a word, afraid that if he lingered, Wu Ying's next words might just kill him.

Perfect—Wu Ying had defeated Asher with a single word!

She felt happier now, the anger in her heart dissipating. She cheerfully tapped her toes, craned her neck, and called out, "Jiujiu, another bowl of rice!"

After that, Asher holed up in his study like a sulking cat and didn't come out.

Wu Ying strutted around the living room, even dragging Jiujiu to demolish a corner because she wanted to put a giant flowerpot there.

The clatter and banging didn't draw Asher out—clearly, he was quite angry.

As the saying goes, pursue the enemy when you have the upper hand. When it was time to sleep, Wu Ying hugged her pillow and padded over in her yellow duck slippers, making an intentionally obnoxious racket. She rapped on his door and called out in a most impolite tone, "Open up!"

She waited two seconds, then lifted her foot and started kicking the door in a rhythmic assault.

"What's wrong?"

Asher opened the door, his hair slightly damp, wearing rumpled pajamas. Wu Ying nodded in satisfaction—it hadn't been in vain that she'd dug up his sleep schedule from Jiujiu.

Timing it perfectly; she'd been right.

"I'm here to sleep with you."

She tossed out the words, not caring what Asher thought, and lifted her feet to walk in.

Before she could take a few steps, a pair of arms extended and firmly pressed against her shoulders. She slid futilely on the floor for a couple of steps; the friction increased as Asher applied more force.

"What are you up to now?"

His calm voice carried a deep note of helplessness. He'd noticed that Wu Ying had been treating him worse lately, her troublemaking escalating at an alarming rate.

Wu Ying stopped, looked up at him, and said, "I told you, I'm here to sleep with you. What, you don't want to sleep with me?"

Who in their right mind says "sleep with you" over and over at night? Asher was starting to wonder if he was overthinking it—maybe she really did just mean sleep, nothing more.

"Go back to your own room and sleep."

"Asher, are you a child? Who comes knocking at this hour just to sleep?" Wu Ying emphasized the last "sleep," giving him a wink as if to convey her meaning through her eyes.

Asher closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. He was certain this was another one of Wu Ying's new torturous pranks.

"Hey, are you really going to refuse your own wife? We're married, after all—isn't it normal to, you know, be intimate? Do you know how embarrassing and humiliating it is for a girl to knock on her husband's door and be turned away?"

Wu Ying's delicate brows knitted into a frown, her lips downturned, hugging her pillow and gazing up at him with a pitiful look.

She sounded so pathetic, but Asher hadn't forgotten the way she'd knocked—almost like a bandit, with zero patience, not even a proper knock, just a shout of "Open up" and then kicking at the door.

Asher looked down, not daring to let go of her shoulders. "We'll talk about this another time. Go back first."

"It's already this late—'another time'? Either we decide now, or I'm going out to find someone—"

"Shut up!"

Asher's face darkened. He grabbed Wu Ying, scooped her up in his arms, and carried her to her room, his strides so long it only took a few steps.

Wu Ying struggled in his arms, but before she could put up any real fight, she was pressed onto the bed.

Pink blanket, confused her.

By the time Wu Ying lifted her head, Asher was already at the door. She grabbed a nearby stuffed toy and hurled it at him, hitting the mark squarely—it bounced off his back and fell to the floor.

Asher paused for a moment, then took a big step out, closing the door completely behind him before letting out a slow breath.

In front of his door, Wu Ying's pillows lay scattered, sprawled across the entrance like their owner—unruly and bold.

Asher bent down, snatched them up with his broad palm, glanced back at Wu Ying's room, and knew he couldn't go back in there. He vanished through the door with the pillows in hand; only the draft through the hall knew a fine show had just ended.

Wu Ying collapsed in disappointment, sprawled out like a flat pancake on the bed. According to her original plan, she should have been taunting Asher by now. Unfortunately, she hadn't counted on him resorting to brute force.

Damn, damn! If he hadn't used force, she'd have kept blocking his door until he gave in, and then she'd question his manhood, he'd get angry, she'd keep questioning, he'd keep fuming, then she'd escalate to mockery, and he'd be left in impotent rage...

Wu Ying thought she'd have to learn from this and adjust her strategy.

Ever since military training, Wu Ying had realized that mechas were big—too big for her to handle.

Asher brought home a silver-white mecha, slightly smaller than Jin Yao.

Wu Ying circled it once, confirming again that even though it was the smallest mecha available, she still couldn't take it all in at a glance.

"Why did you decide to teach me to pilot a mecha?"

Was it because she'd mentioned that the instructors hadn't taught properly and that she couldn't learn after training? To be honest, she wasn't all that keen on learning to pilot one; she had no interest in instruments of violent conflict.

But not wanting to learn was one thing—whether she could learn was another. What she cared about wasn't just the missed lesson.

"Ahem, I mean—is your solution to make mecha courses a part of the curriculum across all schools?"

If so, Wu Ying thought maybe some people would remember her then.

Asher was silent for a moment, seeming somewhat regretful. "I'm working on it, but there's a lot of resistance."

The Senate leaned toward a different solution.

Mechas weren't like cabbages—they couldn't just be mass-produced. As it stood, some military academies even had cadets sharing mechas. Opening up mecha courses would mean opening up mecha data, and the Federation had no shortage of mecha fanatics. Once the data was out there, it wouldn't just be students seeing those courses—more civilians would learn about them. Giving people without the right skills access could only lead to greater chaos.

Before Wu Ying told him about the state of Federal University's military training, he'd had no idea it could be any more watered down. He'd thought the cadets were already too lax during their training, but Wu Ying's case was truly special.

Asher realized this might be a latent social flaw that could erupt in another form someday.

Mechas were humanity's crucial armor in the universe. If he could, Asher would want everyone to have one. But realistically, sometimes they cause more destruction than protection.

Wu Ying was his wife; her status made her surroundings dangerous. So Asher believed she needed to learn mecha operation—it was also the direction she'd argued for.

"Come try it. This mecha has been calibrated with some of your data, so it should feel more attuned to you."

Wu Ying paused, tapping her fingers against the mecha's foot. So it was custom-made. The pressure felt a bit heavy, but Asher had a point—having more ways to defend herself was a good thing.

If she ever ran into the insect race again, she couldn't just rely on her own body—that would never hold up.

"Alright, how do I try it?"

Once she'd made up her mind, Wu Ying rubbed her hands together, ready to dive in. She blinked innocently at Asher, her gaze as clear as a fresh recruit's.

She didn't have a clue. During those few days of military training, all she'd learned was how to touch the spatial button and then stare at the mecha in a daze.

Asher felt a chill run down his spine for some reason. "Get in the mecha, turn on companion mode, and take me with you."

"How do I get in?"

"...You don't know?"

"No, I don't."

The two stared at each other for a few seconds. Asher raised a hand to his forehead, his anger toward the training instructors reaching its peak—they couldn't even teach the basics of getting into a mecha. The situation was even worse than he'd thought.

It took a while, but Asher finally taught Wu Ying how to start the mecha and get into the cockpit.

He'd spoken more in one morning than he had all of last year, and he'd even run out of words at times.

Wu Ying always managed to raise questions he'd never considered before. In his experience, piloting a mecha was simple—so simple it was like it was an extension of his own body.

"Move your mental power, and the mecha will move."

"Why? I'm already moving my mental power."

Asher watched as Wu Ying furrowed her brows and even twisted her body along with the motion. Her face was calm, as if she'd already been at this for a long while.

He couldn't understand why she didn't get it. Wu Ying, for her part, had gone from quietly going along, to confusion, to doubt—and now she was starting to think Asher wasn't much better than the instructors.