Who understands? The aloof female ruler always flirts without even realizing it.

The discharge application was quickly approved, after all, it was a request from a high-ranking male, and the imperial medical system gave it the green light all the way.

As the hovercar smoothly entered the courtyard of Shen Yan's villa, Karandal glanced indifferently at the off-white European-style building through the car window.

Carved columns support an arched roof, the terrace railing is adorned with gilded patterns, and the fountain in front of the door splashes up tiny droplets of water as mechanical gears turn.

Compared to the dense darkness of the basement of Samuel's villa, this place was exquisitely beautiful, like an unreal dream, but in his eyes, it was just a more luxurious cage.

He was even prepared to be pushed into a narrow, cramped cage or thrown into a dark, sunless basement. He would spare him a few glances when he remembered, and leave him to fend for himself when he didn't. This was the most common way male insects treated their "possessions".

After all, female insects have extremely strong physical qualities and a very rapid recovery ability, so they don't die easily, especially female military insects.

Therefore, most male insects prefer the slender and soft sub-females to the hard females.

001 had already prepared the guest room next to the master bedroom in advance. The intelligent cleaning robot had just completed the last round of disinfection, and there was still a faint scent of pine and iris in the air.

The room continues the villa's overall European-style decor. A full-length mirror with a brass frame reflects the entire room, and a large four-poster medical bed is covered with velvet bedding. A light-up terminal embedded in the wall at the head of the bed glows softly. Apart from that, there are no other decorations, and the room is clean and exudes a sense of aloofness.

"The room is all set up to standard, and the call button is by the bed. Just press it and I'll come right away if you need anything!"

001 spun around happily, its two beady green eyes on its face turning into tiny slits.

Karandal sat in his wheelchair, his fingertips gripping the cold, hard metal of the armrests tightly until his knuckles turned white. It wasn't a cage or a basement; it was a bright, real room.

The fragments of the past were like poisoned needles, pricking his temples during moments of distraction.

At the age of fifteen, he used all the savings he had accumulated over three years on the garbage planet to buy a one-way ticket to the Imperial Planet. With physical strength and tenacity far exceeding that of ordinary insects, he broke into the army camp amidst the mockery at the recruitment point.

For the next fifteen years, he struggled through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, rising from a despised "wild boy" to an imperial general.

On the Imperial Star, where the average age of insects is 300, he, barely an adult, became the youngest legend in the military.

Its wingspan is three meters wide. The azure wings of the Goddess of Light butterfly are adorned with tiny specks of light. The arc it traces across the starry sky was once the most terrifying sight for the enemy on the border battlefield.

But Samuel utterly ruined it all. That powerful male was unabashedly greedy, and upon their first meeting, he commanded him in a forceful tone:

"Give up everything in the military, become my slave, and obediently provide for my pleasure."

Karandal naturally refused; his battlefield was in the universe, not in the male insect's backyard.

No sooner had he spoken of refusal than Samuel, enraged, took him to court. The Empire, which had always valued males, did not hesitate to abandon this "insignificant" commoner female insect general in order to appease Samuel, stripping him of his military power in court and sentencing him to exile on a desolate planet.

But he didn't even see a shadow of the desolate star.

The cold needle pierced the back of my neck, and the muscle relaxant spread rapidly along the blood vessels.

Within seconds, he felt as if his limbs were filled with lead, and he lost all strength to even lift his hand. He could only let his body go limp and be casually thrown into the narrow metal cage by the guards.

The cage was cold and oppressive. Outside, the guards laughed and joked without restraint. Inside, he felt a desperate inability to resist. Every breath he took was heavy with humiliation. This was the most ruthless method a male insect used against those who resisted: first strip them of their power, then crush their dignity.

As the effects of the medication gradually weakened, he was finally able to move his fingertips with difficulty.

The thought of being possessed by Samuel and becoming one of his female slaves made Carlandall shudder with nausea.

The cage was empty, not even a sharp shard could be found, but he did not hesitate.

Taking advantage of the vehicle's jolting and the guards' distraction, he suppressed his exhaustion and dizziness, and used his remaining mental strength to forcibly transform his right hand into an insect-shaped walking leg.

The segmented limbs, with their naturally sharp tips, pierced the skin of his lower abdomen as soon as they were formed, but he didn't even blink, and instead thrust the walking limbs hard into his own body.

The excruciating pain of his ruptured reproductive cavity swept over him like a tsunami. He curled up in a ball, blood gushing out and soaking the bottom of the cage, dripping down the cracks.

The pieces of flesh that came out when the walking foot was pulled out were even more shocking.

He gritted his teeth but didn't utter a sound; only the cold sweat on his forehead and his trembling body betrayed his extreme pain.

This was the last thing he could think of to preserve his dignity.

When the metal cage was carried into Samuel's bedroom, the male cat looked at the beautiful, defiant butterfly inside and rubbed his hands excitedly. He couldn't wait to open the cage door: "I've finally waited for you, my new pet."

But the next second, his gaze was fixed on the bloodstains between Karandal's legs and the lingering afterimages of his walking feet. The glaring red and the grotesque flesh instantly extinguished all his interest.

Samuel's face darkened abruptly, his excitement turning into rage.

He grabbed Karandal by the hair and dragged him out, slamming him to the ground. He whipped Karandal's back repeatedly and kicked him in the waist and abdomen with his leather shoes, cursing him as "ungrateful worm."

Due to the effects of the drugs, Karandal didn't even have the strength to curl up and defend himself. He could only endure each blow until he passed out. Samuel then spat in disgust and ordered him to be thrown into the darkest corner of the villa to fend for himself.

But Samuel had no intention of truly letting him go.

The next day, Calander awoke from hunger and pain. He had just sat up against the wall when Samuel suddenly barged in and grabbed him by the base of his wing.

Those hands, burning hot with malice, gripped the bones beneath his azure wings tightly, causing him to tense up instantly in pain.

"Since we can't go to the battlefield anyway, there's no point in keeping these cumbersome wings." Samuel's voice carried a cruel laugh.

Realizing the other party's purpose, Karandel's pupils shrank sharply. He struggled desperately to get away, but his body had not yet recovered from the previous beatings and drugs, and two female slaves were ordered to hold him down tightly. He was no match for them.

He could clearly feel the bones at the base of his wings being clenched and cracking. Every struggle ripped at his nerves, causing him to feel dizzy with pain.

Because the male insect wasn't strong enough, the butterfly's wings remained untorn. Samuel lost his patience, cursed, and pulled an axe from his toolbox, hacking it down hard at the base of the wing.

With a crisp "crack," the excruciating pain of the broken wing bone instantly pierced through his limbs and bones, a hundred times more intense than the pain of destroying his reproductive cavity.

"No--!"

Karandal finally couldn't hold back and let out a piercing roar, cold sweat rolling down his cheeks and soaking the dirty cloth beneath him.

Samuel, however, seemed to enjoy his pain. He pressed his other hand against his back and continued to tear at the flesh that was still connected despite the broken bones. The sound of the wing membranes being torn was particularly clear in the darkness. Every nerve was screaming. Blood gushed out from the wounds at the base of the wings, staining the clothes of the two insects red.

Karandal's struggles grew weaker and weaker, his vision gradually blurred, and finally, in extreme pain and despair, everything went black and he passed out completely.

When he woke up again, there were only two bloody, mangled holes left on his back. His once proud wings were nowhere to be seen. Only a bone-chilling numbness spread throughout his body, and it felt as if his soul had been torn apart.

The nightmare lasted for about a month. During this time, due to the pain becoming so intense that he became numb, Karandall's reaction to physical pain became negligible. This bored Samuel, so he waved his hand and summoned the black market livestream.

At first, they were live-streaming in Samuel's basement. Later, the male insect felt that his private life was being disturbed, so he waved his hand and let the black market insects take him away. After round after round of torture, he was seriously injured and unconscious. When he opened his eyes, he had already been rescued by this so-called Shen Yanxiongzi and taken to the hospital.

……

"I've already adjusted the initial angle of the medical bed. If it's not right, I can press this button to make minor adjustments."

Shen Yan's voice rang out softly, bringing back distant thoughts, and carrying a gentle quality.

Holding a cup of warm dairy products, she moved with utmost care, her gaze deliberately avoiding Karandel's wounds, showing no intention of prying into his condition.

"I just came from the hospital, have some of this to tide me over. I'll make you some congee for dinner later, it's easy to digest."

Karandal looked up and met the other's deep black eyes, which held no pity or cunning, only a natural gentleness, like spring sunlight streaming through a window.

But the more genuine this gentleness seemed, the more wary he became.

Samuel's sinister grin, the coldness of the metal cage, the numbing effect of drugs, the excruciating pain of self-destruction, the agonizing agony of having his wings ripped off, and the images of those wounded female slaves locked in dark basements with vacant eyes—all surged through his memory, constantly warning him:

Male insects only bring misfortune.

The guest room you see now may only be a temporary blessing. Once the novelty wears off, the cold needles and the inescapable torture will inevitably return.

He swallowed hard, but ultimately just said coldly, "Put it down."

Shen Yan didn't say much, gently placing the nutrient solution on the bedside table. As his fingertips brushed against the pain-relieving spray on the bedside table, he deliberately moved the bottle outwards, making it more easily accessible, before softly saying:

"You rest first, call 001 anytime if you need anything."

After saying that, he slowly walked out, closing the door so quietly that it was almost silent.

The moment the door closed, Karandal's tense body relaxed slightly, and a dull pain shot through his back from the scars and the hidden old wounds deep within his body.

He raised his hand to touch her back, but stopped halfway.

He stared at the intricate gilded patterns on the ceiling, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the armrests of his wheelchair.

Shen Yan and Samuel may be different, but they are essentially both male insects.

Unbeknownst to him, Shen Yan had barely stepped out of the guest room when he immediately dialed his personal terminal. The steady voice of Harun, a subordinate of the female father, came through: "Shen Yan, what are your orders?"

"Uncle Harlan, do me a favor." Shen Yan's tone had lost its previous gentleness, becoming more decisive and serious.

"Find Admiral Calander's butterfly wing, even if it's just a fragment, and bring it back."

There was a pause on the other end of the computer, then a reply came through: "Understood. I will use all available channels to search immediately and give you an answer by tomorrow at the latest."

After hanging up the communication, Shen Yan looked in the direction of the guest room. He had specifically watched the video of Kalander's wingspan battle on his personal computer. The azure wings cut through the darkness in the smoke of battle, and each flap of the wings carried the sharpness of breaking the deadlock. It was the dazzling light that belonged only to the strong on the battlefield.

Such a being should not be confined to a small space, nor should he be dimmed by trauma. He should return to his battlefield and become a butterfly soaring high.

In the following days, everything proceeded smoothly. Every morning, Shen Yan would personally deliver warm nutrient solution, always at the perfect temperature for the child to drink.

During the remote consultation in the morning, he would stand quietly in the corner, silently taking notes on the doctor's emphasis on "avoiding scar hyperplasia" and "reducing pressure on the lower body," and then immediately ask 001 to change the bed to a softer memory foam mattress.

The afternoon tea they deliver always manages to precisely avoid ingredients that could irritate the healing process of old wounds.

Karandal was initially on high alert, keeping his distance from everything Shen Yan brought.

Until one night, he was awakened by the stinging pain of his old injury, unconsciously letting out a muffled groan. Not long after, there was a gentle knock on the door. Shen Yan stood in the doorway, holding a pain-relieving spray, his voice hoarse from just waking up:

"I heard a noise. Is my old injury hurting again? The doctor said this spray can relieve it."

He didn't rush in, but instead held up the medicine, his eyes filled with cautious concern. Kalandel recognized the medicine in his hand; it was the latest multi-effect analgesic developed by the Interstellar Medical Alliance, highly effective for postoperative and traumatic pain, hence its high price.

He nodded in tacit approval of the other person's approach. Shen Yan tiptoed into the bedroom, avoiding direct eye contact as if afraid of being burned by the other person's gaze. He wanted to take off his cumbersome pajamas to make it easier to apply the medicine, but was refused.

After several rounds of persuasion failed, he simply forcibly removed the female insect's pajamas and, under her fierce and frightening gaze, evenly sprayed the medicine onto the wound.

There were so many wounds that there was hardly any healthy flesh left.

Just looking at her sent chills down my spine. I had no mind to appreciate her shame and anger, or her beautiful body. I couldn't bear to imagine how she had endured such torment...

After he finished treating the last wound, he finally straightened up and looked at the clock on the wall, only to find that nearly two hours had passed. He rubbed his sore lower back, told the female insect with a complicated expression to rest early, and then turned and left.

That night, Karandal curled up on the innermost side of the soft bed, the pain in his body gradually dissipating, but the icy layer in his heart remained unmoved.

He had to admit that Shen Yan's care was meticulous enough, but the more meticulous he was, the more he felt it was a trap. Samuel's toughness was a visible knife, while Shen Yan's gentleness might be a hidden arrow, both of which would eventually drag him into the abyss.