A flurry of footsteps approached. A small delegation appeared at the doorway, led by a tall woman in a gray business suit.
Ye Cheng kept her expression calm, though she was thinking: That line really is a classic.
The doctor brought up a tablet. "Per government directive, we activated an Advanced Therapeutic Unit for treatment. All her vitals are within normal ranges now. Based on the cognitive screening, we've found her intelligence has returned to a normal level, but…" He searched for the words. "She appears to have no memory of anything that happened before, and she's severely lacking in basic common knowledge."
The woman in the suit made a soft sound of acknowledgment. She stepped to Ye Cheng's bedside, bowed slightly, then straightened. Meeting Ye Cheng's amber eyes, she softened her voice as if afraid of startling her. "Hello, Ms. Ye Cheng. I'm Aili, head of the Post‑Incident Task Force established by the Yilan Star government for this accident."
Ye Cheng looked back at her quietly and waited for what came next.
Aili had delivered these words countless times to victims or their families, but facing a fifteen‑year‑old girl who had all but lost everything, she still felt a pang of reluctance. "Ms. Ye Cheng, we're deeply saddened and regretful about this accident. I also need to inform you of your father's condition: your father, Mr. Ye Zhiqiu, sustained severe injuries in the accident. His Subspace Ring was completely destroyed, and he suffered serious brain trauma. He remains under observation and treatment, but according to the doctors… he may never wake up." The girl only stared with wide eyes, no sorrow welling in their depths. Aili's pity sharpened. She doesn't even remember her own father…
Before coming, Aili had reviewed Ye Cheng's file. Ye Cheng was fifteen, but she'd had cognitive issues since childhood—bluntly, severe intellectual disability. Beyond eating and sleeping, she couldn't care for herself. Her father, the scientist Ye Zhiqiu, had always kept her close and employed a dedicated servant to handle her daily needs.
Several years ago, Mr. Ye had come to Yilan Star to live temporarily for academic exchange and research. This time, he'd taken his daughter aboard a civilian Yilan Star vessel for a short trip to a neighboring world, only to be swept into a small border skirmish.
Ye Cheng had been found at the edge of a forest outside Yilan City, lying near the tail section of an escape pod, with several other pods scattered nearby. All the pods had been damaged in the attack, and most inside had perished. Ye Cheng had likely been crushed into the rear of the pod by other evacuees; because she was farthest from the rupture at the nose, she'd miraculously survived—one of only eight survivors.
Her father had not been so fortunate. From the scene, it looked as if Ye Zhiqiu had tried to use the pod's side‑mounted defensive weapon to protect the survivors. Tragically, it couldn't stand against military‑grade fire from the combatants. His head was fatally struck; he would very likely remain in a vegetative state.
"The Yilan Star government has submitted a report on the incident to the United Nations. For individuals with personal autonomy, we will respect their wishes. If you want to return to the planet where your father used to live, we can provide a ship and personnel to escort you. If you choose to remain on Yilan Star, we will cover your living expenses and tuition until you come of age. From our preliminary review, your father has no other relatives, so we recommend that you stay."
"I'll stay," Ye Cheng said without hesitation. She didn't know this body's past, and she lacked the basics of this world—she needed time to learn. If there was room, board, and school, why leave?
Aili nodded, took a tablet from an aide, tapped through a few screens, then turned it toward Ye Cheng and set it gently on her lap. "Since you're staying on Yilan Star, we'll assign you a Life‑Care Officer and a slave to assist with daily life. The Life‑Care Officer's salary will be paid by the government until you turn eighteen. The slave will sign an indefinite contract directly with you."
Life‑Care Officer? And… a "slave"? Did she hear that right?
Ye Cheng looked down. The tablet showed a list of profiles. She tried swiping; the pages turned and scrolled under her finger.
After a quick skim, she summarized:
A Life‑Care Officer is an entry‑level public servant working for a government‑funded social‑aid institution. They handle daily schooling, lodging, transportation, work arrangements, and other matters for Yilan residents with difficulties, on a set weekly schedule.
A slave signs a contract with the owner. Short of matters of life and death, all other personal rights are controlled by the owner, and the slave must obey around the clock.
Curious, Ye Cheng tapped the rankings. The top‑rated candidate was a kindly‑faced uncle in his fifties. Thinking that might be inconvenient, she chose the second: a warm‑looking woman with the surname Zhou.
As for the slaves, she flipped through a few pages, unsure whom to pick, then simply reversed the sort to show the lowest ratings first.
The first thing she saw was a pair of sharp, ink‑dark eyes.
Name: Yang Yu. Sex: Male. Age: 19. Notes: Gross dereliction of duty. Sentence served. Recovering from injuries.
Something stirred in Ye Cheng. Her finger moved almost of its own accord to the confirm button and pressed.
"I'll take these two."
Aili accepted the tablet and checked. She had no objection to Aunt Zhou, but when she flipped to the next page and saw the choice of the derelict slave named Yang Yu, surprise broke her composure. "Forgive me for asking… why did you choose this slave?"
"He's handsome."
"…" Aili clearly choked. A few snorts of laughter burst behind her. She shot a quick look over her shoulder to quiet them, then turned back. "We respect your decision. Also… even if a slave obeys any order you give… ahem." A faint blush touched her cheeks. "You are, after all, a minor. And this slave was just penalized for dereliction of duty. He's still injured and may need about half a month of rest before he can serve you."
Ye Cheng considered. "Is my compensation payout large?"
Aili, thrown again by the leap of topics, answered after a beat, "You can view the total in the Personal Assets section."
Remembering a line she'd just seen, Ye Cheng said, "Then please—if I don't need to stay for observation, I'd like to be discharged today and go home. Also, please bring Yang Yu to the hospital. I'll cover his treatment costs."
Aili nodded. "I'll make the arrangements now."
Aili left with her aides. Ye Cheng turned to the doctor and asked the question she'd been holding in her heart. "Doctor, may I… see my father?"
Waking to learn she had a living father had startled her. So far, none of this felt real—like a cosmic joke.
The doctor checked a medical console and shook his head. "Mr. Ye Zhiqiu is still under observation. He can't receive visitors yet. Please give it two days."
Disappointment pricked her. "All right. Thank you."
Half an hour later, Ye Cheng met her Life‑Care Officer in the hospital lobby.
She spotted the woman from a distance and stood to wait, studying her as she approached. The officer looked in her early forties, slightly plump, with shoulder‑length curls—very much the warm neighborhood aunt. Seeing Ye Cheng standing alone in the corner, she hurried over, took her hand, and guided her to a seat. "Hello, Ye Cheng. I'm your Life‑Care Officer. Just call me Aunt Zhou."
"Hello, Aunt Zhou," Ye Cheng said sweetly.
Aunt Zhou tapped the Subspace Ring on her left wrist, and a primrose‑yellow short jacket popped into her lap. She shook it out and beckoned Ye Cheng to slip it on. Ye Cheng obliged, and at once looked a bit more spirited.
"There now, much better. Girls your age should wear something bright. Whatever happens, you have to take care of yourself."
Warmth swelled in Ye Cheng's chest. "Thank you, Aunt Zhou."
Aunt Zhou smoothed Ye Cheng's soft, shoulder‑length hair and smiled. "No need to thank me. I'm your Life‑Care Officer. If anything's hard for you, tell me—I'll help you figure it out."
Ye Cheng nodded, then offered, "By the way, I also contracted a slave. He should be in treatment. Could you take me to see him?"
Aunt Zhou had read the file before coming. She led Ye Cheng down the hall. "Between us," she said as they walked, "it's you who's spending too much. Activating an Advanced Therapeutic Unit is expensive. Why pay that for a slave? This is when you should be saving. For everyday inconveniences, let me help."
Ye Cheng only nodded along, saying nothing.
A nurse guided them into the treatment bay.
At a glance, Ye Cheng saw a back crisscrossed with scars and a head of short, disheveled hair.
Aili stood beside the man. Her brows were level, her eyes cold—nothing like the gentle, pitying official Ye Cheng had met. "Doctor, that will do. Yang Yu, this is your future owner, Ms. Ye Cheng. You will sign the contract with her here."
The man turned, lifted his left hand. Marks from shackles ringed his wrist. He pressed his Subspace Ring, and a pale‑blue holo‑screen unfolded above it. He gestured in the air; a thread of light shot to Ye Cheng's left hand. Ye Cheng blinked, confused. Aunt Zhou lifted Ye Cheng's hand and tapped her ring as well.
Ye Cheng's Subspace Ring flashed. The black collar around the man's neck flared in answer. He coughed twice, low, didn't spare Ye Cheng a glance, and dropped to both knees with a thud. "Slave Yang Yu," he said, voice rough, "swears fealty to Owner Ye Cheng."
—