Chapter Twelve: Dangerous, But Not Evil!

Girly? Well, I am a woman, after all… if not me, then who? Isn’t it only natural for me to be feminine? Even if I tried to act tough… Forget it. I can’t pull it off.

In front of Tang Fei, Phoenix felt utterly powerless. Her heart brimmed with frustration; she hadn’t expected Tang Fei to criticize her for her mannerisms with such a reason. What made it all the more embarrassing was that she had actually spoken to him in that tone…

She’d only wanted, instinctively, to rebut his words. Yet, the phrase “No, I wasn’t” paired with a certain expression and mannerism, on the New Star, was practically the same as a girl acting coy with her boyfriend. So many TV dramas and films played it just that way—she’d even snuck into one via her neural interface to experience it for herself…

It was truly humiliating!

“Why did I speak to him like that?” Phoenix questioned herself internally, longing for a definite answer.

Love? Impossible. Ambiguity? Not quite. Gratitude? That, perhaps, was closest to the truth.

In the freezing polar night, when someone lights a match for you, that is the warmth and light you’ve yearned for. To Phoenix, the actions of Tang Fei and Little Fatty were just like that.

Her journey, so full of hope, had ended in betrayal by those closest to her, a desperate escape protected by a death guard, and a life pod crash-landing in a perilous human settlement due to severe damage…

Thankfully, she’d met Tang Fei. Thankfully, it was his family she encountered.

She couldn’t begin to imagine what would have happened had she fallen into the hands of a predator, the Flame Shrine, or some other ill-intentioned soul, instead of Tang Fei. She would surely have found life worse than death.

She was filled with gratitude for all of this—and especially for the fact that it was Tang Fei she’d met.

Through their brief time together, she felt that, though Tang Fei was “dangerous,” he wasn’t bad—his danger was simply for the protection of his family, not out of malice.

There was no contradiction in that.

So, naturally, she began to accept Tang Fei and Little Fatty, treating them as her anchors and support on this foreign land.

“Yes, that’s it.”

Having sorted out her feelings, Phoenix felt much more at ease.

She glanced over at Tang Fei, who was striding forward, eyes fixed ahead in feigned composure—but the flush on his ears, barely concealed by his unruly hair, betrayed his shyness.

“He’s still just a bashful boy,” Phoenix thought with secret amusement.

Little Fatty, bare-chested and carrying a rabbit slung over his shoulder, his exposed belly even whiter than the rabbit’s fur, marched along with all the swagger in the world, completely oblivious to what had just transpired behind him.

Not that he would care, even if he knew.

A woman who couldn’t throw rocks held no allure for him.

“Tang Fei—!”

A girl of about thirteen or fourteen suddenly burst out from a nearby stone courtyard, calling Tang Fei’s name with a sweet smile.

She was slender and clear-eyed, dressed in plain gray homespun, yet the unique freshness and vitality of youth radiated from her without restraint. The only flaw was a long scar running from her brow to the corner of her mouth—a rather fierce and frightening mark.

Tang Fei had tried collecting herbs to heal her scar, but the girl had refused his help.

That scar had ruined her beauty, but it had also saved her life.

“Ningning…”

Tang Fei’s face lit up in a broad smile as he waved to her.

An Ning was Aunt Cheng’s daughter. Her father, An Xin, had lost a leg to wolves while hunting, and, with little medicine available, had soon died of infection. Mother and daughter had struggled ever since, and so Tang Fei often helped out, tossing them a rabbit or half a deer for soup now and then.

The old man often mocked Tang Fei for being a bleeding heart but had never actually stopped him—sometimes even sneaking over himself with a sack of cassava or other food.

Aunt Cheng, knowing that the three men lived rather rough, would drop by to patch their clothes or tidy up the house.

Many believed there was something between Aunt Cheng and the old man—Tang Fei included, of course.

The old man, naturally, would never admit to such a thing and had warned Tang Fei not to ruin his reputation.

Reputation? Hah…

Tang Fei was sure the old man had none left, but perhaps Aunt Cheng would end up with a child.

Ningning’s father had been gone since she was seven or eight, and in recent years she’d relied mainly on Tang Fei and his family, so she was very close to both Tang Fei and Little Fatty, always delighted to see them.

Tang Fei looked at An Ning’s smiling face and asked, “What are you doing at home?”

“Drawing,” An Ning replied proudly, holding up a twig.

There weren’t many ways for children on the Ruins to entertain themselves, and the harsh environment kept them confined to their small courtyards. Each had to find their own way to pass the time. An Ning loved to draw, and she drew rather well.

But with no paper or pencils, she had to make do with a stick and the dirt.

“You’re amazing, Ningning,” Tang Fei praised.

He pulled a silver pen from his pocket and said, “Here, a gift for you.”

Phoenix’s eyes narrowed—it was something from the escape pod, probably pilfered by Tang Fei at some point. She chose to ignore this trivial matter.

Tang Fei rummaged again and produced several crumpled, folded sheets of paper. “And these, too. Now you’ll be able to draw on paper—and keep your work forever, if you like.”

“Thank you, Tang Fei!” An Ning was over the moon. Paper and pens were precious on the Old Earth, almost impossible to buy even with money—not that they had any.

Clutching her new treasures, she said, “Tang Fei, when I finish a drawing, I’ll give it to you.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Tang Fei replied, his smile wider than ever.

Phoenix watched this smile. It was different from his usual one—bright, sincere, and radiating genuine happiness.

The weather was fine today, a rare patch of sunshine casting golden light across Tang Fei’s refined face, making his skin seem even paler and his eyes shine like the sun.

Ah, he’d washed his face today!

Yes, he had. The old man insisted everyone wash up to show respect for their guest—strangely making Tang Fei go first, then himself second, while Little Fatty ended up with a tub of mineral-rich “soup.”

“He really is kind,” Phoenix thought.

But she quickly banished this absurd idea from her mind.

It was all an act, a façade. She mustn’t be fooled by his performance; she’d seen how quickly he could turn his back on someone.

An Ning’s gaze fell on Phoenix. In truth, she’d noticed Phoenix immediately—her beauty was impossible to ignore, as was her elegant, exquisite clothing, which showed off her figure perfectly.

“Who is this, sister?” An Ning asked curiously.

“Oh, this is Phoenix,” Tang Fei replied, smiling. “A guest from the New Star.”

“Wow!” An Ning’s face filled with envy. “No wonder you’re so pretty—you’re a distinguished guest from the New Star… Phoenix, is it really beautiful up there?”

“It’s all right,” Phoenix answered, reserved.

She didn’t know the girl’s relationship with Tang Fei, but caution made her keep her distance from all strangers.

She could sense the girl’s scrutiny from the very first moment—a subtle, probing gaze.

No matter how well the girl tried to hide it, she couldn’t escape Phoenix’s keen perception—she’d been seasoned in far more treacherous arenas, after all.

“I wish I could see it for myself one day,” An Ning said, gazing up at the sky.

“Someday you will,” Phoenix replied, nodding, though she worried inwardly—would the girl ask her for a “ticket” like Tang Fei had?

But not everyone was as shameless as Tang Fei. An Ning didn’t ask Phoenix for anything, nor did she try to make conversation—she simply turned to Tang Fei and asked, “Where did you all go?”

“Hunting,” Tang Fei replied, unwilling to mention the escape pod and the Flame Shrine, as that would only bring trouble to both sides.

He pointed to the rabbit on Little Fatty’s shoulder. “Caught a red-eyed rabbit—looks nice and fat, what do you think?”

“Very fat,” An Ning agreed with a smile.

“Little Fatty,” Tang Fei called out, “leave two rabbit legs for An Ning.”

“No need, really,” An Ning protested. “We haven’t even finished the mutton you brought last time—if we wait much longer, it’ll spoil…”

“That little bit of mutton? How could you not finish it? Tell your mother to cook more tonight—don’t skimp. Every time you wait for the meat to spoil before eating it… You’re still growing, you need the nutrition…”

“Really, there’s no need…” Even as An Ning protested, her eyes darted involuntarily to Phoenix’s chest.

Yes, she really did need the nutrition…

“Just listen to me,” Tang Fei said firmly.

Little Fatty, efficient as ever, had already lugged the rabbit into the kitchen, found a knife, and expertly carved off two plump rabbit legs.

“Alright, we’re heading back,” Tang Fei said, waving. “If you need anything, come find me at home.”

“Okay. Goodbye, Tang Fei!” An Ning smiled.

As Tang Fei and the others walked away, An Ning watched Phoenix’s graceful figure and quietly mouthed her name: “Phoenix…”

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