The commotion in the first-class carriage quickly spread to the other sections of the train.
Ming Zhenduan, eager to flaunt his wide network of information, deliberately remarked, "My sources are absolutely reliable—there’s an alien creature that snuck onboard!"
Gou Dejiu asked curiously, "The Galaxy Train has the best security measures. How could an alien possibly get in?"
"Apparently, a first-class passenger brought it in when boarding, using some unknown method," Ming Zhenduan explained. "By now, that person must’ve been taken in by the armed squad for interrogation. Tsk tsk, their methods of extracting information are no joke—whoever it is will have a rough time."
Gou Dejiu pressed further, "Were there any casualties?"
"No deaths, but plenty of injuries," Ming Zhenduan replied. "I heard even the young lady of the Xia family got hurt. Such a pretty face—I hope it wasn’t damaged. Even if it was, let’s pray there’s no scarring."
Hearing about the incident in first class, Xue Fufu couldn’t help but ask, "So many people injured—it must’ve been serious?"
"Of course," Ming Zhenduan nodded. "Nothing this severe has ever happened before. The passengers in first class are all wealthy or influential. If even one of them gets hurt, it’s a big deal."
If that was the case, then could Long Shenting have been injured too?
Xue Fufu thought of that strikingly handsome man and grew restless. She excused herself, saying she had something to attend to, and left the dining area of the second-class carriage ahead of the others.
Ming Zhenduan muttered, "Xue Fufu’s been acting really strange lately, always disappearing on her own. No idea what she’s up to."
Gou Dejiu said, "Maybe she has personal matters to handle."
"What kind of personal matters could she have on a train? Hey, Gou Dejiu, aren’t you even a little curious about where she goes?"
Gou Dejiu put on his headphones. "Nope."
Ming Zhenduan thought to himself, What a pretentious guy.
They were all headed to Rose Planet for a year-long internship. Passing the final assessment was the only way to graduate, and Ming Zhenduan had been assigned to the same destination as his classmates, Xue Fufu and Gou Dejiu.
Xue Fufu had always been somewhat invisible in class, mostly because of her overly gentle personality—soft as cotton, never competing or fighting for attention. In this interstellar era where everyone was eager to stand out, she was easily overlooked.
Logically, Xue Fufu shouldn’t know anyone else on the train besides Gou Dejiu and Ming Zhenduan. Yet lately, she seemed to be frequently "disappearing," wandering off to who-knows-where.
Ming Zhenduan couldn’t help his curiosity. He made up an excuse to leave the dining area and hurried forward, just catching sight of Xue Fufu’s figure vanishing around a corridor corner.
He quickly followed, growing even more puzzled when he realized she wasn’t heading back to her room. Then, his eyes widened in surprise.
Xue Fufu pulled out an ID card, swiped it past the access control, and stepped through the opened metal door.
On the other side was the first-class section.
Where had Xue Fufu gotten that ID card?
What was she doing going into first class?
That area was reserved for the elite.
Before the door could close, Ming Zhenduan’s body moved faster than his brain, and he slipped in after her.
Xue Fufu seemed to sense movement. She turned around, but Ming Zhenduan had already ducked behind a trash bin.
Seeing no one, she dismissed it as her imagination and continued forward.
Before she knew it, she had wandered into a crowded area. Nervousness crept in—after all, she wasn’t a first-class passenger, just someone who’d luckily stumbled upon an ID card.
Xue Fufu’s lost and uneasy demeanor stood out starkly among the wealthy crowd.
A uniformed man noticed her and approached. "Miss, do you need assistance?"
Xue Fufu tensed further but forced herself to stay composed. "I’m lost."
The young man, identified by the number "13" on his uniform, had striking orange-yellow hair and blue eyes that always seemed to sparkle with warmth. His friendly, harmless demeanor made him incredibly approachable.
Xue Fufu remembered him—last time, when a portly man had gotten into a conflict with Gou Dejiu, it was No. 13 who had stepped in to prevent escalation.
He must be a good person, she thought.
The entertainment venues here were labyrinthine, and it wasn’t uncommon for people to lose their way.
No. 13 dutifully said, "Where would you like to go? I can guide you."
"I want to return to the rest area."
"Please follow me."
Xue Fufu trailed behind No. 13, her nerves wound tight. She couldn’t believe she’d mustered the courage for this, terrified that someone might see through her.
As they left the bustling entertainment zones and entered the quieter rest area, the only sounds were their footsteps echoing in the corridor.
Xue Fufu couldn’t resist glancing up at the tall, broad-shouldered figure ahead of her. His proportions were impeccable—long legs, a narrow waist, and a physique that aligned perfectly with human aesthetic ideals.
Bright hair, blue eyes, fair skin, and a radiant smile.
A man like him would’ve been the center of attention at university, chased by countless girls. But here, on this train, he was just another armed squad member—No. 13.
A noise came from nearby.
A girl in a red dress, exquisitely dressed and naturally elegant, stood with one hand against the wall, balancing on tiptoe as she frowned at her broken shoe. More noticeably, her other hand was wrapped in bandages, evidence of a recent injury.
No. 13 changed course. "Miss Xia, do you need help?"
Xia Miao lifted her gaze, briefly glancing at Xue Fufu.
No. 13 smiled. "The rest area is straight ahead. As a first-class guest, I’m sure this young lady knows the way by now."
Xue Fufu stiffened but forced a polite smile. "Yes, I remember now. I can find my way back."
She walked a short distance before stealing another glance at the girl in red.
Xue Fufu recognized her—the young heiress of the Xia family, a figure of immense status and the dream of countless men seeking to change their fate.
No. 13 assessed the situation, then crouched down, gently lifting Xia Miao’s left ankle to inspect the shoe. His verdict was simple: "The heel’s broken."
