Chapter Seventy-Two: She Truly Does

Song Xi’s father was Song Mingyuan, the current confidential secretary to the Governor of the Takamagahara Star Zone.

Within the Empire’s hierarchy, the Star Zone Governor was the highest authority in their domain. In the context of ancient feudal dynasties, she might well have been considered the daughter of a prime minister—an heiress from a family of great prestige.

In the past, he might have felt a touch of nervousness in such company. But now, after being exposed to “Rinne’s syndrome” for so long, he’d likely developed antibodies against the effects of an heiress’s charm. Thus, when Song Xi chatted with him about this and that, Chen Zi’ang could handle it with perfect composure.

Song Xi, however, only found it increasingly puzzling. This security officer before her—while certainly presentable, with an upright manner and decent character—was, at best, only slightly above average. Not outstanding enough to merit particular notice. With Rinne’s credentials, finding such a man would be effortless.

Good looks, a dignified air, excellent morals—if Song Xi were tasked with finding someone meeting these criteria, she could readily produce a list of at least two hundred names within a month, spanning from the military to the security services. It would be no trouble at all.

But then, what of Tsukimiya Rinne’s credentials? In Song Xi’s elite social circle, Tsukimiya had earned the nickname “Crown Princess”—a nod to the tradition of the emperor’s firstborn daughter by his empress, implying that among all the young women of their generation, she stood above the rest.

In every aspect, she was number one.

First in beauty—a standard that is notoriously difficult, given the subjectivity of taste. What one finds attractive, another may not. Among women especially, rivalry is instinctive. Unless someone’s beauty is so far beyond comparison that no one dares compete, only then will all agree on the title of “most beautiful”—anything less, and accusations of narrow-mindedness would arise.

Yet, in her circle of close friends, the “Crown Princess’s” beauty was truly peerless, setting her apart by an entire tier. It was strange—everyone in their set had excellent genes and spared no expense on personal care, but when they stood beside Rinne, something always seemed to be missing.

Of course, beauty alone would never earn wholehearted respect. The scions of the second generation were all born to privilege; no matter how cultivated their manners, pride was ingrained in them. This was even more true among the three great northern families—Shi, Qin, and Song—all of them descended from the landfolk, and naturally inclined to look down on the islanders.

Yet Tsukimiya Rinne had never gone out of her way to curry favor. Still, whether among the younger generation of the Shi, Qin, or Song families—or even their elders—her reputation remained impeccable. This was something no one could quite explain.

There were even rumors that the current Governor, Shi Di, had once considered matchmaking her with his own son. At the time, Tsukimiya Seisho was utterly overwhelmed. In the end, it was Rinne herself who went to the governor’s office. With just a few words, she made Shi Di laugh aloud and abandon any thoughts of forging an alliance with the Tsukimiya family.

No one outside knew exactly what was said. Governor Shi Di certainly never spoke of it, and Song Mingyuan, the only other person present, remained tight-lipped. Later, when he returned home, he only advised his daughter Song Xi, “Tsukimiya Rinne is worth befriending; it will be good for your future.”

Not that Song Xi needed telling; she had long since admired the Crown Princess. In fact, everyone in their circle believed that, in all of Takamagahara Star Zone, there wasn’t a single male worthy of Rinne’s attention. The only ones who might catch her eye would be the princes of the Imperial Capital, light-years away—men whose every trait, it was said, had been honed over generations of royal genetic engineering, embodying the very pinnacle and limit of human potential.

Song Xi did not consider herself snobbish. Still, comparing a “prince of the capital” to a “security officer”—the difference was too vast. Even a starzone governor’s son would at least be a match in status.

After a while, Song Xi laughed and said, “I’m a bit tired. Why don’t we sit over there for a while?”

Chen Zi’ang readily agreed, and the three of them made their way to the lounge area across the way.

The Dolphin Bay lounge was next to a small restaurant, whose specialty was Huai Makari fish—a delicacy from the distant Arctic Star Zone of the Federation, prized for its rich, succulent belly.

After confirming what the two young women wanted to eat, Chen Zi’ang headed toward the restaurant.

As soon as he left, Tsukimiya Rinne’s expression turned stern. “Mimi, weren’t you supposed to help me out? Did I invite you just so you could dig up information about him?”

Mimi was Song Xi’s childhood nickname, and the use of it indicated that Rinne wasn’t truly angry. Song Xi let out a laugh. “You can’t expect me to start helping you immediately, can you? I have to build some rapport with him first, or else it’s too obvious.”

“Besides, I’m the one who invited you, right? Rinne, let me ask you something…”

She glanced furtively at Chen Zi’ang’s retreating figure and asked in confusion, “What do you even see in him?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Tsukimiya Rinne replied dismissively.

“How could I not?” Song Xi protested. “I’m about to get married too, you know?”

“You’re only getting married because your parents arranged it. Do you even know what true love is?” Rinne shot back. “You’ve never even been in a relationship, Mimi.”

Arranged marriages were common in the elite circles of the northern city. It wasn’t that young people had no say; they were free to find love on their own. But if they reached a certain age without a partner, their parents would step in and make the arrangements.

Usually, these matches were with long-term political allies. The families knew each other well and needed to maintain cooperation. Even if husband and wife had no affection for each other, they would each live their own lives, and for the families’ sake, keep up appearances. In essence, it was a partnership, though “alliance by marriage” sounded more pleasant.

Song Xi was left speechless. She was the type who’d never thought much about romance in the first place. To cover her embarrassment, she laughed and asked, “So you think this is true love? How long have you even known him? Since you started working together? Hasn’t it been, what, a month?”

“A long time,” Rinne answered calmly.

“How long?”

“As long as a lifetime,” Rinne replied.

As long as a lifetime? What, did you know each other in a previous life?

Song Xi was about to tease her, but when she saw the tranquil certainty in Rinne’s eyes, her words caught in her throat.

In her memory, Rinne had always been the mature, strategic type—never one to back herself into a corner. Even when someone in their circle confessed to her, she’d laugh it off with a few light words, refusing gently but never causing embarrassment.

When had she ever spoken in such an unequivocal, uncompromising tone, cutting off all escape routes for herself? What if she pursued him and failed, and the story got around? Wouldn’t she become a laughingstock?

“So,” Song Xi stammered, “but… he doesn’t like you yet, does he?”

“No,” Rinne replied, shaking her head.

“Then, isn’t this just unrequited love?” Song Xi forced herself to remain calm, then asked seriously, “If he really doesn’t like you, and there’s no chance for you two… Rinne, what will you do?”

“Unrequited love is such a lonely thing…”

Rinne was silent for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, or perhaps not at all. Soon she answered with perfect composure:

“Then I’ll be his friend.”

“As long as I can stay by his side, even as a friend, that’s enough.”

“I’ll watch over his happiness. That’s all I need.”