Discussing The Correct Posture To Enjoy Dog Food

Chapter 171 - Pomegranate Flavored Sentinel Gong (12)

Translated by Hua Li ^_~

Not long after Xiang Muchuan’s arrival in the Nelson System, Jack Litt received word.

He’d made no effort to hide his movements, and when his intelligence officer reported the news, Jack waved him out of the room before his expression darkened.

So—Xiang Muchuan was making sure he knew the “gift” that destroyed the Tut base had been from him.

The situation was already turning dire. Even after receiving reinforcements from the Free Federation, the Litt Legion continued to be pushed back by Xiang’s forces. It was clear now that Xiang hadn’t only annihilated their Tut installation—he had also obtained access to the Litt family’s military intelligence. Every strategic deployment the Litts made in Nelson was as transparent to the Xiang Legion as glass.

Once Jack realized this, he immediately ordered a full evacuation of key personnel.

But several of those convoys had been intercepted—ambushed by Xiang’s troops—and they’d lost an entire cohort of elite officers. The losses were devastating.

The soft ping of an incoming private transmission broke through his thoughts.

Glancing at the sender’s ID, Jack rubbed at the ache between his brows before straightening in his chair and answering.

“Father.”

The stern image of the Litt patriarch appeared.

“What’s the situation on the front? When will you drive the Imperial Army back?”

The elder Litt spoke as though he still believed victory was a matter of time, but both men knew better. Without the Federation’s scattered support, their position was already crumbling.

The Free Federation, after all, was hardly unified—each of its military corps governed its own territories, its own laws, its own interests. Their only real bond was a mutual desire to resist Imperial annexation. As soon as one’s self-interest outweighed that alliance, even the so-called allies would abandon each other faster than the Empire would.

They were on the brink.

But to the old man, losing this battle meant losing everything. The Litt family could not fall, and he made sure his son never forgot it.

Jack delivered his report calmly, summarizing the grim situation.

The patriarch’s brow furrowed. “I hear Xiang Muchuan has publicly announced his wedding date—fifty-six days from now. He’s openly insulting you.”

“I already know,” Jack replied. “The battlefield shifts every moment. It’ll end when I decide it ends, not him. He’s just playing a psychological game, trying to pressure us.”

He paused. “Father, how did your discussion with the Prime Minister go?”

“He didn’t refuse the marriage with Benjamin, but he said the date would be set ‘after your victory.’ Hah. Empty words. He wants to stall—and take control of you and our Legion in the process. Delusional fool!”

The elder Litt’s face twisted with anger. “Benjamin’s with you, isn’t he? A C-level Guide with a 60% match—merging with his spirit sea shouldn’t be difficult.”

Jack’s expression hardened. “Forcing the bond won’t help us. Benjamin’s the Prime Minister’s only son, but his political worth far outweighs his personal one. Provoking the Prime Minister would do us no good.”

At that, the old man grudgingly backed down. “Fine. Then deal with Xiang Muchuan. I’ve heard he brought his Guide to the front—a B-level Guide, no less.”

He sneered. “How arrogant. Bringing his greatest weakness into battle? That’s a gift from the gods. Kill the Guide, and Xiang Muchuan won’t just lose his chance to become an Ultra-S Sentinel—he may not even survive. This is our chance, Jack. You know what to do.”

Jack did know. Over the years, the Litt family had planted more than one mole within the Xiang Legion. The moment he’d learned of Xiang’s arrival, he’d already begun activating those agents.

The two men reviewed the list of infiltrators, confirming every codename. Just before ending the call, the old man hesitated.

“Jack… still no word from Jesu?”

Jesu Litt—his other son. A useless one, perhaps, but born of the only Guide he’d ever truly loved. Even after the disaster Jesu had brought upon their family, the old man couldn’t help but hope he’d somehow survived.

Jack’s eyes went cold. “No. But if I had to guess, he’s in Xiang’s hands. Otherwise, it’s too much of a coincidence that every piece of classified data he knew has been compromised.”

He’d much rather Jesu had died in that explosion. But, as usual, the coward had survived—and now served as Xiang’s perfect tool against them.

Seeing the fury on his son’s face, the old man swallowed back the request to “save him” and cut the line.

Meanwhile, Gou Liang had been watching the father and son’s tense exchange through the system’s filtered surveillance. When the final line of Federation agents embedded within Xiang’s forces flashed before him, he smiled faintly.

Time to clean house.

*

“Where’s Yuan Wang?”

After finishing his strategy session with his father, Xiang Muchuan returned to the barracks—only to find the room empty. No Gou Liang, no silver wolf, not even the holographic baby.

Li Weike quickly answered, “Sir, Yuan Shao went to the nutrient compound plant—he said he wanted to improve the taste. Ai Qi’s accompanying him.”

Xiang nodded, accepting the report. But when the battle briefing ended and Gou Liang still hadn’t come back, he decided to fetch him himself.

The nutrient plant was the most advanced facility among the new base’s military infrastructure—built not just for wartime logistics, but as part of Xiang’s longer-term plan to claim the entire Nelson System for the Xiang Legion.

Yet today, the place was oddly silent. Even the automated vacuum-sealing lines, normally running twenty-four hours a day, had stopped.

Weike frowned. Something felt wrong. He followed as the little pink pup bounded happily ahead, tail wagging in excitement as if guiding Xiang straight to its master.

They found him in the quality-control lab, surrounded by technicians in white uniforms, every one of them staring raptly at the data scrolling across the monitors.

They were so absorbed they didn’t even notice Xiang Muchuan enter—only Gou Liang, sensing his presence, turned first.

When their eyes met, Gou Liang’s face lit up with a smile so soft that Xiang’s heart gave a strange, heavy thump.

For a moment, he had the dizzying illusion of déjà vu—as if he’d already lived through countless lifetimes of that same smile turning back toward him.

“What are you working on?”

Xiang crouched in front of him, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Gou Liang’s lips where he sat cross-legged on the floor.

“Commander!”

The others snapped to attention, startled into awareness. It was awkward to stand at attention when their commanding officer was squatting, so they stiffened in place, murmuring greetings.

Xiang nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then turned his full attention back to the person in front of him.

“It’s finished,” Gou Liang said with a small, proud smile.

Gou Liang tilted his head back, a hint of pride flashing in his eyes—clearly full of confidence in his own achievement.

Xiang Muchuan smiled and ruffled his hair, while Rachel, the head of the nutrient factory, couldn’t hold back her excitement. “Young Master Yuan is a true genius when it comes to nutrient formula development! He’s created two brand-new flavors, and they taste incredible! The nutritional values of these two are already almost identical to original-flavor nutrients, and the data’s still trending upward!”

Aiqi added, “The numbers are already equal to the fruit-flavored nutrient, and Young Master Yuan’s two formulas taste dozens of times better!”

It was as if she had never tasted anything so delicious—her face was so full of excitement that her smile looked almost distorted.

Gou Liang said, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long, long time.”

Thanks to the stat-boosting props that had adjusted his physical parameters, his sense of taste was extremely sharp. The odd, artificial taste of nutrient formulas was magnified a hundredfold for him, to the point that he could barely swallow them.

From the very first mouthful he ever took, he’d vowed to drive nutrient formulas out of the realm of “dark cuisine.”

He didn’t need a system evaluation to tell what was in them; he could taste every component and constantly come up with ways to improve the formulas. The two he’d made now were just the most conservative prototypes. Once these earned people’s trust, he was going to let the entire universe know: “Everything you’ve been eating until now is fake!”

Sensing his fierce ambition through their mental link, Xiang Muchuan’s eyes softened with an even deeper smile.

Soon, the evaluation reports came back—with stunning results!

Not only were the two new nutrient formulas delicious, but their nutritional content and absorption rates were on par with traditional formulas. The sweet version even scored higher than the standard flavor in nutritional value.

Rachel was ecstatic, showering Gou Liang with compliments as if they cost no money.

When Gou Liang was about to hand over the formula to her directly, Xiang Muchuan stopped him. “Until the new nutrient is ready for mass production, follow standard protocol.”

Rachel quickly agreed.

After they left the factory, Xiang Muchuan quietly scolded Gou Liang. “The nutrient formula is classified as B-level confidential data. Even if they’re trustworthy, you can’t share it freely. It’s your intellectual property—”

“Ours,” Gou Liang interrupted.

He emphasized, “Ours.”

Xiang Muchuan was sweetly disarmed. He leaned his forehead against Gou Liang’s and smiled. “Yes, ours.”

Gou Liang kissed him on the cheek, grinning. “And there’s something even better coming.”

He wasn’t as simple as he looked—these two formulas were nothing special to him.

Once he rolled out the rest of the flavors, their nutritional content alone would be enough for the Xiang family to monopolize the entire military nutrient market. It would be an astronomical fortune, and Gou Liang knew it. But with the wealth Xiang Muchuan had already put under his name, he couldn’t spend it all in several lifetimes. On top of that, Madam Xiang and Marshal Xiang were generous with him too. With the power and industries already in his hands, he had enough influence to roam the entire interstellar world.

Unfortunately, none of that money could be taken to the next world—so generous Gou Liang declared: I might as well treat money like dirt!

With that, he pulled out a tube of nutrients from his universal pouch and offered it to Xiang Muchuan like a treasure. “Yours. No one else gets this.”

It was a special formula he’d made just for Xiang Muchuan—a Revivifying Herb Condensate, made with a hundred stalks of that rare plant for a single 50ml tube.

Aiqi and Li Weike, following behind, instinctively wanted to stop him—after all, the new nutrient hadn’t been tested on humans yet, and there was no telling if there were any side effects—but Xiang Muchuan swallowed it without hesitation.

“Young Marshal—”

Aiqi shook her head at Li Weike, signaling him to stay quiet. She had seen Gou Liang’s pharmaceutical genius firsthand and trusted him more than anyone.

Li Weike thought to himself that Gou Liang would never harm the Young Marshal. Though uneasy, he said nothing further.

Watching Xiang Muchuan savor it slowly, Gou Liang eagerly asked, “Is it good?”

“It’s good,” Xiang Muchuan replied.

At that moment, he finally understood what Gou Liang meant earlier when he said everything he’d eaten in his first twenty-eight years had been “fake nutrients.”

That single 50ml tube made him feel like his mind and body were in perfect condition. And although he’d never been fond of sweets, he had to admit—it was delicious.

Marshal Xiang soon heard the news. After tasting one of the formulas himself, he summoned Xiang Muchuan and Gou Liang and expressed his hope that Gou Liang could provide enough for a hundred people to test, to observe the long-term effects.

If no issues were found after a month, the new nutrient could officially go into mass production.

When Gou Liang handed over the formula without hesitation, Marshal Xiang was surprised and couldn’t help but look at him with new respect.

From Xiang Muchuan, he’d already learned how crucial Gou Liang’s contribution had been in their successful capture of Tut Star. Yet despite his enormous merit, the young man neither sought fame nor reward—so calm and humble, he was truly admirable.

But Marshal Xiang was not someone who mistook sincerity for obligation. He quickly waved his hand and said, “Xiao Wang, we may be family, but even among brothers, accounts should be clear. Once the new nutrient is in use, all the shares belong to you.”

Although the Xiang family would be providing manpower and funding, shares that could easily match the technical value of the formula, he was still generous with his future daughter-in-law. He considered those shares part of Gou Liang’s betrothal gift.

To his surprise, Gou Liang shook his head.

“Betrothal gift,” he said, smiling as he looked at Xiang Muchuan. “For you.”

Xiang Muchuan burst out laughing.

Marshal Xiang was stunned for a moment before realizing that Gou Liang meant to use the formula as his bride price for marrying Xiang Muchuan.

He laughed heartily, praising the young guide’s creativity as absolutely brilliant!

And who was Xiang Muchuan, after all? His identity as the Xiang family’s military heir was nothing compared to the fact that he was an S-class sentinel who had swept through battlefields undefeated. Across the entire Empire, countless guides—and even sentinels—dreamed of marrying him. Gou Liang was definitely the first person to ever declare he would marry Xiang Muchuan!

But seeing how his son looked utterly besotted, Marshal Xiang suddenly felt a little emotional.

His son had truly grown up. No longer the cold, aloof “little iceberg” they used to keep close to warm with care.

Yet, however reluctant he was, Marshal Xiang had to accept reality—his “little iceberg” had turned into a blazing volcano the moment he met Gou Liang.

Later that night, after their passionate intimacy, Gou Liang ran his hands over Xiang Muchuan’s sweat-slick body, his heartbeat quickening as he gazed at the man’s face—now even more irresistibly handsome under the sheen of sweat.

Xiang Muchuan felt the same. He stared intently at Gou Liang, listening to his quickened breathing and watching the desire in his eyes as the sweetness of his pomegranate-flavored spiritual energy kept rising higher and higher.

He pressed his forehead against Gou Liang’s, speaking softly to soothe him from the unease that followed their intense passion.

“Xiao Keng’er, I’m not leaving. Don’t bite so hard… I won’t be able to hold back.”

His low, husky voice was sinfully seductive. Gou Liang trembled, tightening his body around him even more as he murmured, “Don’t… hold back.”

Though he’d already reached his physical limit, Gou Liang still kissed Xiang Muchuan’s burning lips greedily, wanting more. Xiang Muchuan held his waist still, forbidding him to move, and returned his kiss with deep, restrained passion. Even as his desire surged beyond control, his willpower held strong—he wouldn’t let Gou Liang exhaust himself.

The kiss itself was no different from before, but this time, Xiang Muchuan suddenly felt a gentle energy wrap around him.

He froze slightly. The sensation was unfamiliar, yet it stirred a deep instinct within him.

Tentatively, he accepted that flow of mental energy—and in the next instant, the spiritual synchronization method that had puzzled him for days unlocked itself, guiding him and Gou Liang into a profound, mysterious fusion.

Though Gou Liang couldn’t be completely honest with him—using a Soul Mirror tool to seal away the memories that didn’t belong to this world, and even altering parts of the body’s original past—Xiang Muchuan gave himself to him entirely, with no reservations at all.

Gou Liang had extracted soul images for nearly a thousand years, but never once had it felt this exhilarating—or this right.

Xiang Muchuan opened his heart to him completely.

From the moment his consciousness first awakened in the womb, to the first heartbeat he ever heard, to his birth, his growth, the battlefield glories that shaped the brilliant life of the Young Marshal—each scene was carved into Gou Liang’s soul, sharing in his memories and his life itself.

Xiang Muchuan was the first to awaken from their spiritual union. Gou Liang was still immersed in the process of memory fusion.

He’d always thought his own life dull and rigid, yet whatever Gou Liang saw must have been different—because there was a soft, peaceful smile on his lips.

Moved, Xiang Muchuan brushed a kiss over his smile and dimple, his gaze tender, filled with love and ache.

—He had seen Gou Liang’s lonely childhood, and how, after the death of the old guide Kemi—the only person who had ever given him warmth—he locked away his true self and lived his life detached, watching others’ joys and sorrows like a spectator.

He had also seen how Gou Liang had fallen for him at first sight.

So that was it—Gou Liang hadn’t been late to their blind date out of carelessness.

He had arrived early, hiding across the street in a shopping mall, nervously waiting for Xiang Muchuan to appear. And when Xiang stepped down from the hovercar, that one glance made Gou Liang’s heart race so powerfully that Xiang himself had felt it. Gou Liang’s eyes had followed him so intently, he’d lost track of time completely—leading to the misunderstanding that he’d arrived late.

Through his memories, Xiang Muchuan saw a completely different story than the dry, official profile he’d once read. Gou Liang possessed extraordinary talent in pharmaceuticals and had inherited a special planting space from Kemi’s estate. Because all his studies and experiments were done within that space, no records ever appeared in the database.

He had his small flaws, yes, and though quiet, he was never insecure.

But the moment he fell in love, he felt fear for the first time. For the first time, he was ashamed of his imperfections, hurt by his inability to stand as Xiang Muchuan’s equal.

“Xiao Keng’er, how could I not like you?”

Regret tinged Xiang Muchuan’s voice—he wished he’d told him sooner. Holding Gou Liang gently, he closed his eyes and continued to guide their fusion.

What he didn’t know was that Gou Liang had already finished merging their spirits. But after replicating Xiang Muchuan’s entire life, he discovered a vaster realm within Xiang’s soul—

—A space of pure black and white, no shades between, empty except for the drifting lines of law and order that pulsed with divine power.

In that instant, Gou Liang realized—this was the Main God’s consciousness sea!

He wandered through it, seeing nothing but those cold, lifeless patterns—so desolate it made him ache.

He didn’t know how long he drifted in that endless void before he heard a sound.

Startled, he ran toward it with all his might, running and running, but could never reach it. Exhausted, he finally collapsed to the ground, unable to rise again.

Just as despair set in, a pair of warm, strong hands lifted him up.

To his shock, Gou Liang realized that somehow, he’d turned into a tiny baby—smaller even than System Xiao Si.

Flustered, he looked up at the man holding him. The first thing he saw was the sharp brow and clear, star-like eyes. The face was unfamiliar, but the faint warmth hidden in those cold eyes told him instantly—this was the Main God. His lover.

Overjoyed, Gou Liang tried to call out to him—

“Woof~~”

…Woof??

Gou Liang clapped both hands over his mouth in horror. He checked himself anxiously and was relieved to find he wasn’t a dog—but a baby.

The man wore a black wide-sleeved robe covered in runes of law, radiating a presence that discouraged approach. Seeing the little one’s shock at his own transformation, the man actually chuckled. He rubbed Gou Liang’s belly and said softly, “Xiao Keng’er, how many times have I told you? You’re a wolf, not a dog. Stop barking like that.”

“Woof-woof?!”

Terrified, Gou Liang kicked his tiny legs. The man simply said, “You’ve already taken human form. You should know how to speak.”

“Woof!”

Gou Liang cried again in panic. The man only poked at his little dimples teasingly. “You like dogs that much, huh? Fine, then your surname will be Gou (Dog). But your name should be Lang(Wolf).”

“Liang?”

The baby’s soft, milky voice piped up.

“It’s Lang,” the Main God corrected.

“Liang!”

The little one insisted stubbornly.

The man sighed in defeat. “All right then. From now on, you’ll be called Gou Liang.”

Following the man through the empty, black-and-white realm, Gou Liang suddenly noticed himself shrinking further—until he was small enough to curl up in the man’s warm palm, wagging his tiny tail as he happily licked at the divine patterns that flowed across his hand.

So tasty…

A strange, unfamiliar flavor of soul power filled his senses, and Gou Liang stirred awake.

“Xiao Keng’er, what delicious dream are you having?”

The teasing voice overlapped with the one from his dream—similar, yet not quite the same. Gou Liang instinctively licked his tongue… and then realized he was biting Xiang Muchuan’s finger.

Meeting Xiang Muchuan’s amused gaze, Gou Liang jolted and shot wide awake.