When Ye Cheng had stormed out of the auction drenched and furious, she hadn't paid much attention to what Kairald had said about "my most beautiful treasure." Only later—after Yang Yu helped carry the rescued man onto the bed—did she finally understand why the sick-minded governor had called him that.
Sorra was… breathtaking.
Ye Cheng stared at his sleeping face, so still that even Yang Yu's report faded into meaningless background noise. His features were too fine, his beauty almost unreal—like moonlight once turned into flesh. She barely heard Yang Yu calling her name for the fifth time.
"Master," he said helplessly, "Mr. Artwright has come to visit."
Ye Cheng blinked vaguely. "Oh… right."
With a resigned sigh, Yang Yu went to open the door himself—making a distinguished merchant and elder wait outside any longer would be rude. He invited Andreas von Artwright in. "As you can see, sir, my master has completed your commission." The unspoken plea in his tone was clear: compensate her well. She'd given up a Luminous Nightfall crystal—an unimaginable loss. Compared to that, the Fall‑grade one Andreas had offered her barely counted.
Andreas crossed to the bedside, his carefully self‑controlled expression softening the moment he saw Sorra lying there alive. A long breath escaped him—relief, almost tenderness.
Ye Cheng finally noticed the visitor but couldn't bring herself to look away from Sorra. Her voice sounded distant, dreamy. "Hello, Mr. Artwright. I brought Sorra back. He cost, um…" She kept the real story—and the forbidden golden crystal—quiet, fishing out only the Fall‑grade stone Andreas had originally given her. "He cost one Union Credit. So, here—your crystal."
Andreas's attendant nearly tripped. "One credit?!" Even Andreas himself lost composure for a moment, his polite façade cracking. "One Union Credit?"
Ye Cheng nodded miserably, still clutching the Fall‑grade crystal in one hand while her other hand was secretly under the blanket, gripping Sorra's warm, smooth wrist like a child unwilling to let go of a toy. "Yes. That pervert—I mean, Governor Kairald—was in a very good mood today. Sold him cheap."
Of course Kairald had been in a good mood. He'd pocketed a legendary crystal and taken liberties with her in the process.
Andreas quickly pieced it together. As Kairald's lifelong rival, he knew too well the man's greed and cruelty. Sorra's release for a mere coin was impossible unless something extraordinary had been exchanged. Without Ye Cheng, Sorra and his children would already be dead.
"Miss Ye Cheng," Andreas said sincerely, "I owe you a debt I can never repay. Please, accept this crystal again—as a token of my gratitude and personal thanks."
It wasn't enough to replace what she'd lost, but the gesture comforted her somewhat. She nodded, still absently stroking Sorra's wrist beneath the blanket. "Thank you… Oh, right—when will you transfer Sorra's contract back to yourself?"
Andreas blinked. "…Transfer his contract?"
She looked reluctant, almost wistful. Honestly, as long as Sorra stayed near, she could stare at his face through every meal and never get bored.
Then realization dawned on Andreas. He gave a rueful laugh. "Miss Ye Cheng, that's no longer possible. Sorra wholly and legally belongs to you now."
Ye Cheng tore her gaze from the sleeping man, dumbfounded. "Belongs… to me?"
Seeing her confusion, the attendant stepped forward, polite but firm. "Yes, Miss Ye Cheng. Sorra was originally a native‑born slave of the Artwright family. Under Union law, both he and his descendants were the property of Mr. Artwright. However, after committing a capital offense, Mr. Artwright was stripped of all ownership rights. The slave was reassigned to Governor Kairald—and now that you have purchased him legally, Sorra is your property. Mr. Artwright can never reclaim him."
Ye Cheng stared blankly. "So he's… mine? You can't take him back?"
Andreas shook his head slowly. "Sorra and I have no ties left." He paused, then added gently, "Would you allow me to tell you his story?"
Listening, Ye Cheng finally understood how Sorra had fallen so low.
He came from the Senlo—a race of ethereal, intelligent beings once famed across the stars for their incomparable beauty. Peace‑loving by nature, the Senlo had no instinct for violence. When their homeworld was conquered by the New‑Humans, most of them were enslaved and kept for… certain purposes. In the upper circles of society, owning a Senlo was a fashionable indulgence.
Sorra's mother, the treasured acquisition of the Artwright family, had been a daughter of the Senlo chief himself—a breathtaking woman and the patriarch's pride. She became old Lord Artwright's favorite possession until, lent one evening to a visiting First‑Human, she conceived a half‑blood child.
That child was Sorra. From birth, his beauty rivaled his mother's. Gentle and perfectly obedient, he became the household's most prized ornament.
When he came of age, the old Lord spent heavily to purchase another Senlo hybrid—a woman—to bear his offspring. She, fiery and defiant, loathed being treated as breeding stock. One night she stole a family mech and attempted escape. She perished in gunfire soon after.
Shamed, the old Lord transferred Sorra and his children to his son Andreas.
Andreas loved Sorra deeply—but the old man still ruled the house. When he demanded that Sorra continue "entertaining guests," Andreas lacked power to refuse.
Two months ago, disaster struck.
Sorra's twin children, a boy and a girl of three, had been named by Andreas himself—Gingko and Sequoia—a pair of gentle, silver‑haired angels. One day, a visiting friend of the old Lord noticed them in the garden and made an unthinkable request:
"Send the father—and the children—to my room tonight."
Andreas was away. Otherwise, he swore later, he would have died before allowing it to happen.
The old Lord, however, consented without a moment's hesitation. Servants delivered Sorra and the twins to the guest chamber. That night, the meek and delicate Sorra committed the one act no one expected—
He killed that man.
By the time Andreas returned, everything was over. Sorra was arrested, the children seized.
The Artwrights had wealth, allies, and enemies. Chief among the latter was Governor Kairald of Fontanne Star—Andreas's lifelong adversary. Sorra, by law, should've been executed. Instead, Kairald moved quickly, manipulating jurisdiction to claim Sorra as his own slave.
But Sorra was broken. Traumatized, his nerves raw, he refused to let his children out of his sight. Kairald—polished in public, vicious in private—grew impatient. After repeated defiance, he seized the children, separating them by force.
Something inside Sorra shattered. He attacked those who tried to restrain him—almost wounding Kairald himself.
Kairald only laughed coldly. "Disobedient things aren't worth keeping." He knew Andreas's resources on Fontanne Star might save Sorra, so while on vacation at neighboring Yilan Star, he sent Sorra there instead—to die slowly where Andreas could only watch.
Since that day Andreas had exhausted every contact seeking help, but Kairald's grip was absolute. As long as he refused permission, Sorra would starve without a command to eat. Watching the man weaken each day had been agony.
Until Ye Cheng appeared.
Seeing how she treated Yang Yu—with decency and warmth—Andreas finally felt relief. In her care, Sorra might truly live.
He looked at her earnestly. "Miss Ye Cheng, please allow me to repay you somehow. Name your request."
Ye Cheng wasn't shy. After a quick glance at Yang Yu, she pulled him aside and whispered, "Tubby, what level is your mech?"
"Zenith‑grade," he said.
She turned back to Andreas. "Then… may I have one of the same level?"
His brows lifted, but he hid his surprise well. "Of course. I'll have it delivered by tomorrow."
When he left, Ye Cheng returned immediately to the bedside, gaze locked on Sorra again. He still hadn't woken, though the twins now clung quietly to his sides. Yang Yu brought bowls of warm porridge prepared by the hotel kitchen.
The two children were astonishingly gentle—small, silver‑haired reflections of their father. They sat without sound, eyes wide and bright. Since it was awkward for Yang Yu to feed both, Ye Cheng sat on the bed with Sequoia in her lap while he took Gingko.
While the children ate obediently, Yang Yu sent Ye Cheng a dossier about native‑born slaves. She read carefully, her stomach twisting tighter with every line.
Raised from birth to obey, original slaves believed utterly that their bodies and wills belonged to their masters. Anything unsanctioned was sin. In noble families, such slaves were often passed down generations. To secure loyalty, each was given an ownership proof—a token marking the true master beyond any legal record. For Sorra, that token was the leaf‑shaped earring Kairald had forced through her ear. Removing it within a year would mean abandoning him entirely.
If she wanted Sorra to change, she would have to move slowly.
Near midnight, the stimulant injection finally took effect. Sorra stirred. Ye Cheng, who'd kept vigil beside him, leaned closer as his eyes opened—crystalline, inhumanly clear, reflecting her own anxious face. His gaze flicked immediately to her ear, to the faint shimmer of the golden‑leaf earring.
He rose—too gracefully for someone so weak—and knelt precisely at her feet. When he spoke, his voice was low, husky, and devastatingly gentle. "Slave Sorra. All that I am belongs to my master, Ye Cheng."
The sound nearly melted her.
Gathering her wits, she said, "Sorra, being my slave means following my rules. This is Yang Yu—he'll oversee your training when I'm not around. And you don't kneel when you see me. Everything else stays the same, unless my orders differ. Understood?"
"Yes," he answered softly.
She couldn't help pulling him up to sit beside her. Fingers trembling, she brushed the pale silk of his hair. He sat obediently, motionless, his children silent as dolls. No words passed between them, nothing like emotion on their faces.
A chill crept into Ye Cheng's heart. "Tubby," she asked quietly, "why won't any of them speak?"
Yang Yu rolled up Sequoia's sleeve to wipe her hands clean. "Master, most Senlo slaves were kept as… entertainments. They were never taught speech. Especially someone like Sorra—a native product. Their masters only needed their bodies, not their voices."
Ye Cheng stared at him, horrified. She crouched in front of Sequoia, gently taking her tiny hand. "Say it after me, sweetheart—'sister.'"
The little girl blinked up at her, parted her lips—but no sound emerged.
Ye Cheng tried again, pointing toward Sorra. "Call him 'Father.'" Sequoia turned her head obediently, mouth moving, utterly silent, even the shape of the word wrong.
She worked with them for several long minutes. Neither child could utter a single syllable. Frustrated, she turned to their father. "At least you respond! Say something!"
Without hesitation, Sorra calmly unfastened his shirt. In the instant it took Ye Cheng to freeze, he had already bared his chest, every motion practiced, mechanical.
Yang Yu stepped forward at once, gripping his wrist. "Stop. Don't." He redid the buttons one by one, then turned to Ye Cheng. "Please… take it slow. He's been this way for years."
Ye Cheng's breath caught. She stared into Sorra's emotionless eyes—clear as glass, empty of anything human.
Shennong's earlier words echoed in her memory—You're a hybrid.
The collars on their necks. Their mechanical obedience. The world's quiet cruelty. Each realization struck her like a slap, dragging her out of the naïve dream she'd been living since she first awoke in this new body.
She turned away, pressing her fist against the cold window.
If she hadn't been born with that one peculiar trait—freedom from an elemental collar—would she, too, have ended like them? Or worse?
Outside, Sunset City glittered under endless artificial lights—a magnificent mask, concealing rot and barbarity underneath.
"Yes…" she murmured into the vast, indifferent night. "We'll take it slow."