Marrying the Disabled Sentinel: Restoring His SSS Glory

Chapter 8: Something's Not Quite Right

Chen Lillian ultimately failed to finish packing and was urged to rest by Uncle Zhao. Yuan Vincent’s room was enormous—it occupied most of the second floor—and contained not only a bed but also a sofa, a gaming chamber, and a treatment pod.

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Chen Lillian asked, her gaze drifting from the large red bed to a nearby sofa. The sofa was at least 1.5 meters wide and over 2 meters long; when she sat on it, she found it surprisingly comfortable.

“I’m not used to sharing a room with strangers,” Yuan Vincent replied coolly.

For a moment, Chen Lillian hesitated, almost tempted to ask, “Did you always live in dorms at school? How did you manage when you first enrolled?”

“Just use the guest room next door,” Yuan Vincent said, clearly indicating the door outside.

Worried that any delay might give Yuan Vincent the wrong idea—that she intended to sleep with him—Chen Lillian hurried out. Having spent years scraping by in the post-apocalyptic world, she was accustomed to sleeping anywhere—even on the street. After taking a shower, the exhausted Chen Lillian nearly fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Sometime later, a faint, almost imperceptible scent drifted into her room.

“Huh, what’s that smell?”

Still half-asleep, Chen Lillian twitched her nose and then opened her eyes. At some point, her room had become suffused with a crisp, cool woody fragrance.

“What on earth is happening?”

Chen Lillian got up and opened the door, stepping out. Following the scent, she reached Yuan Vincent’s door; the nearer she got, the stronger the smell became.

Just as she hesitated whether to knock, a muffled, subdued groan came from inside.

“Yuan Vincent, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” Chen Lillian knocked.

There was a heavy thud from within, as if something had fallen.

Chen Lillian twisted the doorknob and found the door wasn’t locked. Gently pushing it open, she announced, “Yuan Vincent, I’m coming in.”

Inside, the lights were off and the room was pitch black. Not yet having developed night-vision in this body, Chen Lillian fumbled her way toward the bedside.

“Yuan Vincent, where are you?” she called.

Suddenly, she tripped over something and lost control, tumbling forward. With a loud thump, her head collided with an object, causing her to gasp in pain.

The next moment, the lights snapped on.

“Get up!” Yuan Vincent commanded through gritted teeth.

Only then did Chen Lillian see him clearly: his face was flushed and his clothes soaked with sweat. Alarmed, she cried, “What happened to you?”

“Nothing,” Yuan Vincent managed, his two-word reply draining all his strength as he slumped on the bed, his breath faint as a whisper.

“You don’t look fine at all,” Chen Lillian remarked, thinking he must find it too awkward to speak up. She promptly went out to fetch Uncle Zhao.

Soon enough, Uncle Zhao arrived accompanied by the family doctor.

“Your pheromones are out of control again?” the doctor said gravely as he examined Yuan Vincent. “If this continues, your level might drop even further.”

Yuan Vincent lay on the bed with vacant eyes.

“Is it another mental sea breakdown?” the doctor asked whsaid, closing his eyes in concentration.

“Doctor is performing mental smoothing for young master. Let’s wait outside,” Uncle Zhao told Chen Lillian.

As soon as they stepped out, Chen Lillian couldn’t help but ask, “Uncle Zhao, what does Yuan Vincent’s pheromone smell like?”

“I’ve heard it’s a crisp, cool woody scent. I can’t smell it myself, so I don’t know the exact note,” Uncle Zhao replied briskly, clearly puzzled why she’d ask something any three-year-old might know.

Chen Lillian was momentarily stunned and murmured, “So only Sentinels or Guides can detect pheromones?”

“Exactly,” Uncle Zhao answered sharply, glancing at her as if wondering why she needed such obvious information.

Her heart sank further as she pressed on, “Isn’t the differentiation between Sentinels and Guides supposed to occur before the age of fifteen?”

“That isn’t set in stone. Some differentiate after fifteen. I even recall a report of a 23-year-old woman becoming a Guide, and another case of a 22-year-old…” Uncle Zhao’s voice trailed off; by then, Chen Lillian could barely absorb any more. All that filled her mind was the possibility that she might soon differentiate into either a Sentinel or a Guide.

Late into the night, Chen Lillian tossed and turned in rare insomnia. At dawn, she logged onto StarNet to search for any method to prevent differentiation. But by morning, she found nothing—no one would willingly forgo the chance to be a high-ranking Sentinel or Guide.

“One step at a time,” she murmured to herself.

Today was her first day as a member of the Yuan family. Breakfast was to be taken in the main house—a chance to get acquainted with everyone. In the Yuan family, offspring were not limited by age or status: Yuan Zachary had two younger brothers (both of whom had died on the battlefield) and a younger sister who had married on another planet. Yuan Vincent’s wedding had been so rushed that she hadn’t even managed to return.

Yuan Zachary had married twice—the first wife, who was also Yuan Vincent’s mother, had perished when her starship was attacked by an insectoid at the age of three. His second wife bore a son named Yuan Yu, who was thirteen and attending middle school. Notably, none of them had appeared at yesterday’s wedding.

In truth, whether it was the engagement banquet or the wedding, the only representative from the Yuan family was Yuan Zachary. Yuan Vincent’s stepmother, Ye Zi, couldn’t be bothered even to put up a façade, blatantly exposing the discord between her and Yuan Vincent.

This was Chen Lillian’s first meeting with the stepmother. Ye Zi was delicately featured, with fair, smooth skin. Though in her forties, she looked not a day over thirty—thanks partly to her excellent upkeep and partly to the fact that interstellar lifespans were long (ordinary people often reached 150 years, with Sentinels and Guides living even longer). Ye Zi was a B-level Guide—a high rank among Guides, given that the Alliance’s highest was S-level with fewer than five individuals.

Rumor had it that Yuan Zachary had expended great effort in courting Ye Zi and that he doted on her almost unconditionally—even the SS-level Sentinel son had surrendered without a fight.

Chen Lillian trailed behind Yuan Vincent in his wheelchair; neither of them exchanged words. After Yuan Zachary simply said, “We’re here,” the room fell silent. Ye Zi busied herself eating, barely glancing up.

The dining table was quiet and the atmosphere solemn. Chen Lillian ate calmly, quickly becoming the one who consumed the most at the table—a fact that did not go unnoticed by the others.

“Pack up today; tomorrow we set off for the mining planet,” Ye Zi declared, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“If anything is missing, we’ll have it procured. Supplies over there aren’t as complete as on Alpha Star,” Yuan Zachary interjected.

Yuan Vincent only nodded in agreement.

After breakfast, Chen Lillian and Yuan Vincent had to go to the school to complete their suspension procedures—some documents required their personal signatures. The First Military Academy was one of the Alliance’s top institutions; in fact, six of the Alliance’s top ten marshals were alumni.

Chen Lillian looked at Yuan Vincent in his wheelchair. Had he not lost his legs, perhaps he would someday be among those top marshals.

“Hey, who’s that?” Zhao Pierce, having heard that Yuan Vincent was at school, hurried over and jeered, “You’re missing your legs—yet you dare attend classes? Can you even pilot a mech?”

Yuan Vincent pursed his lips, and the air around him seemed to drop in pressure.

“Step aside, you mangy dog!” Chen Lillian stepped in front of the wheelchair, shoving Zhao Pierce aside.

“Who are you insulting? Want me to beat you up?” Zhao Pierce raised his fist.

Chen Lillian showed no fear. “Go ahead—let’s see if the position of top marshal really goes to someone who bullies a disabled person on campus.”

After the engagement banquet, Chen Lillian had looked up the feud between Zhao Pierce and Yuan Vincent on the school forum—a rivalry stemming from the contest for top marshal. Now that Yuan Vincent was injured, Zhao Pierce was the most likely candidate to assume the top spot.

Sure enough, the moment the word “top marshal” was mentioned, Zhao Pierce retracted his fist, gritted his teeth, and threatened, “Yuan Vincent, if you dare come back, I’ll take care of you!”