Simmer over a gentle flame [Please keep following!]

Watching the two scream in agony amid the flames, Lu Chen felt an unexpected sense of relief. Beside him, Ellie thoughtfully reminded, “Captain, use a gentle flame.” “Ah, right!” he replied.

So it went: Lu Chen poured water, Gloria poured alcohol, and little Ai fanned the flames. There was no denying their unity—adventurers aboard the same ship, moving in perfect rhythm.

It was clear that Ellie empathized deeply with the children; hatred simmered within her heart, and her actions were especially considerate. This was good. Remembering hatred was the key to becoming stronger. People must not forget their grudges, just as a nation must not forget its history.

The two were not yet dead, wailing with desperate rage, “You will be punished by heaven!” Lu Chen remained impassive, even discussing as the flames consumed them. “You’ve got it wrong. If we were guilty and starving before, burning you is our way to atone.”

The woman screamed herself hoarse. “Even as a ghost, I won’t forgive you!” Gloria dealt her a final blow. “Do you really think you’ll become ghosts after death? Only those with exceptional talent in cultivation can become demons, losing control and turning into specters.”

The pair burned for a full ten minutes before finally succumbing to pain, grief, and despair. Remarkably, the villa was a closed system; the exhaust was powerful, not a single whiff escaped, and the patrol failed to notice anything amiss.

In truth, the patrol had found the wrecked patrol boat and were reviewing satellite footage. Yet, the dense, towering forest made it impossible to pinpoint anything, so they could only investigate one by one. The villa district spanned dozens of kilometers, and the scene of the crime was far from Lu Chen’s villa—they would not arrive soon.

After the bodies were burned, Gloria lamented the wasted alcohol, then kicked the remains, reducing them to ashes. “So, the matron is actually a good person?” Lu Chen frowned slightly. “Hard to say. I’ll have to hack into her system to see her true face… But it’ll take time. Even the Empire Entertainment Weekly’s virus can’t break in; it can only block. I’ll try to force my way in, but if I do, she’ll easily locate me.”

Gloria mused aloud, “Is the matron really that powerful? Even you can’t crack her… Could it be that turning from man to woman makes one stronger?” She glanced instinctively at Lu Chen’s lower body.

Lu Chen felt a chill in his loins.

Just then, Ellie’s eyes lit up. “Since the matron isn’t as bad as we thought, why not be polite and visit the welfare institute ourselves?”

Gloria suddenly recalled what the man had said as he burned. “Little Ai is right. The scoundrel said the welfare institute pays more for children than the bounty does.” Lu Chen agreed; it was a good idea. Seeing is believing!

He immediately logged into the intranet, using the man’s credentials to search for relevant information. “The welfare institute on Saion Star is the social care center previously mentioned. Travelers are forbidden from visiting, but a guide cyborg, as a local, can enter with a donation—minimum one hundred spirit stones. Many pay to see the children. Though they can’t tell which is theirs, seeing them all growing happily brings comfort… Sigh, a hundred spirit stones, and I haven’t made a dime. More expenses.”

With no other choice, Lu Chen paid out of pocket, instructed the guide to drive the sightseeing vehicle, brought a hundred spirit stones, and went alone to the welfare institute.

The three children remained in the villa with Lu Chen’s group. Inside, Lu Chen tasked Gloria and Ellie with collecting extensive evidence of Empire Entertainment Weekly’s crimes, while he himself attempted to hack the matron’s core defenses. Even if she located him, he was unafraid. Worst case, he’d submit evidence of Saion Star’s public figures colluding with Empire Entertainment Weekly, perhaps even earning a hero’s medal.

If forcibly hacking the matron posed danger, the risk guidelines would give a warning. It was a manageable risk.

Elsewhere, the guide cyborg succeeded in entering the welfare institute. Accompanied throughout by an armed teacher, he toured the social care center of Alice City on foot. The cyborg’s footage was transmitted live to the villa in the woods.

Lu Chen paused his hacking work and finally witnessed the legendary social care center. He was astonished.

Hundreds of thousands of infants, children, and youth lived, studied, and played in a vast campus. It was less a campus and more a self-contained town, divided into infant, child, and youth zones. The infant zone covered from birth to preschool graduation. The child zone provided ten years of compulsory education on Saion Star. The youth zone was university, split into technical and academic tracks.

The academic atmosphere was freer than Lu Chen had imagined—far more relaxed than any school he’d attended. Only Language and Logic Sigils were compulsory subjects. Among math, science, arts, and other fields, students chose two electives. Merely four subjects were required for college entry. Electives included sports, gaming, driving, and various entertainment pursuits.

Lu Chen was consumed with envy. Students shared uniform backgrounds, economic status, and educational resources. Even teachers were strictly regulated, never favoring anyone, whether gifted or struggling. Achievement depended solely on personal talent and effort.

School management was relaxed; many students played, dated, gamed, fought… but the school taught them how to live. Within the school’s microcosm, learning ability was prized most. Next was humor, then emotional intelligence. Height, appearance, even primary and secondary sexual characteristics could be easily changed.

A fair, comprehensive credit system ensured that those with high scores enjoyed privileges, bonuses, fame, and priority in mate selection. Outstanding boys could date multiple girlfriends; exceptional girls could have several boyfriends. There were many striving, and many coasting.

Most crucially: children born illegally were punished only through their parents; the school treated all children equally. Even those rescued from adventurers, if one parent was a Saion Star native, received fair, free social care without any stigma.

If utopia existed, this was it.

Lu Chen found no major flaws. His only concern was whether children lacking parental love might develop personality issues in adulthood. According to intranet data, Saion Star’s crime rate was very low, social cohesion was extremely strong, scientific creativity was above average, and artistic creativity was somewhat lacking… but the games were excellent.

Lu Chen could not judge whether this society was good or bad. In any case, Saion Star’s utopian civilization had lasted five thousand years, patching countless problems along the way until reaching relative perfection.

There had been wars with the Imperial Fleet and powerful adventurer fleets, but Saion Star had never been conquered, nor had the matron’s system ever been breached.

Lu Chen promptly decided to have the guide cyborg ask the welfare institute teacher: if he intercepted interstellar adventurers, rescued three children, and brought them to the welfare institute, what reward would he receive?

The teacher answering was an elderly, very short woman with a gentle face.

“Just you alone?” Lu Chen, controlling the guide cyborg, replied with a smile, “With the cooperation of three sightseers.”

“As long as you provide evidence showing you did not deliberately have children to sell them, and truly rescued them from adventurers, the school rewards you with 3,600 spirit stones and an honorary medal.”

3,600 spirit stones! Lu Chen was delighted, quickly submitted proof, and successfully received the reward.

The process was so smooth that the school even offered cash proactively.

Suddenly, the teacher fixed her gaze on the guide cyborg.

“The matron wishes to meet you, adventurer—Lu Chen.”