Chapter 935: Swing the Scythe Well, Harvest Leeks Until Old

Chapter 935: Wield the Sickle Well, and the Harvest Never Ends

Intepis stood before him with an attitude of profound deference, while the female secretary at his side was taut with nervous tension.

Han Xiao studied the pair, confirming a quiet certainty within himself: he held absolutely no memory of them, meaning they were not renowned NPCs from his past life, or at least, they had never carved a name for themselves among the player base.

Yet obscurity did not equate to incompetence; the sea of stars was vast, and countless figures remained untouched by players, perhaps because Intepis had achieved little in the previous timeline, or perhaps because an early death had consigned him to silence.

Han Xiao’s primary method for scouting potential lay in cross-referencing past-life archives, but beyond those records, hidden talents could still be unearthed.

Before arriving, the great mechanic had already scrutinized the man’s history—a complete dossier, a clean background, a self-made founder of a local financial conglomerate whose strategic foresight had steered his enterprise to flourishing heights; had the man not caught his eye, Han Xiao would never have bothered to investigate such a minor figure.

In his assessment, though Intepis lacked martial prowess, he possessed a keen aptitude for administration, making him a suitable candidate to bring back as an aide for Sylvia.

As these thoughts drifted through his mind, Han Xiao remained silent for a moment, and his quietude only caused Intepis’s psychological pressure to multiply exponentially.

A single bead of sweat, catching the light, traced a path down his temple, yet Intepis maintained his bowed posture, daring not to raise a hand to wipe it away.

Han Xiao dismissed his musings and remarked with a touch of amusement:

“Do you intend to keep me standing here indefinitely?”

“My apologies, a grave oversight on my part; please, follow me, everything has been prepared.” Intepis replied hastily, secretly chiding himself, for the overwhelming aura of Han Xiao’s higher life form had shattered his composure, leaving him terrified that a single misstep might incur the man’s displeasure.

Intepis took the lead, guiding Han Xiao and Aurora aboard an aerial transport, leaving all bodyguards behind until only the four of them remained within the private cabin.

The vessel hummed to life, charting a course toward the city center; inside, Intepis and his secretary sat opposite Han Xiao and Aurora, their demeanor stiff with restraint.

“You were the one who invited me; why are you so on edge?” Han Xiao chuckled.

“Those who can remain tranquil in your presence likely number fewer than a hundred across the entire cosmos, and I am certainly not among them.” Intepis steadied his nerves, offering a measured compliment.

Unfortunately, the great mechanic was immune to flattery; his mood remained unchanged as a faint, enigmatic smile touched his lips.

“Ah, yes, it seems you told me a lie; you are not yet the planetary lord of this world.”

Intepis’s spirit sharpened, silently noting that the moment had arrived; he forced his emotions into calmness and raised a smile. “Only temporarily; given my current approval ratings, ascending to the position of planetary lord is merely a matter of time.”

Han Xiao offered a noncommittal hum, laughing softly. “So, your promise to assist the Black Star Army in establishing a branch here can only be fulfilled once you actually claim the throne?”

The sharp question struck directly at the heart of the matter; though Intepis harbored exactly that intention, he dared not voice it aloud, allowing his silence to serve as tacit admission.

The reaction fell well within Han Xiao’s expectations; he paused, then smiled with genuine interest. “In that case, why shouldn’t I simply negotiate with the current planetary lord?”

“Election day draws near, and my victory is assured; I will be the one handling our partnership in the end, so I took the liberty of extending an invitation while you were in the vicinity.” Intepis knew the excuse was flimsy, but it served as a necessary veneer of propriety.

Before summoning Han Xiao, he had weighed the consequences of provoking the Black Star, fully aware that the man might simply turn to the rival families; yet this was a gamble from the start, for if Han Xiao refused to come, Intepis would have no chance to turn the tide, and even if the Black Star allied with his enemies, how would that differ from his original desperate straits? After calculating the risks, he chose to leverage the Black Star’s influence.

Though he called it “leverage,” Intepis understood clearly that this was an act of aid; his petty maneuvers could never deceive a figure of the Black Star’s caliber, and whether Han Xiao would answer the call had always been a roll of the dice.

Now that the man had actually arrived, it signaled that the Black Star had deciphered his unspoken plea and was willing to lend a hand, so as long as neither party voiced it outright, a tacit understanding would prevail.

Hearing this, Han Xiao ceased his probing and shook his head with a quiet laugh.

He was intimately familiar with Intepis’s tactic, a classic maneuver from the “Seventy-Two Stratagems of Deception”: the blank check.

It inevitably brought to mind a joke from his past life built on the same principle—a young man aspiring to marry a billionaire’s daughter applied for an executive position at a prestigious bank by claiming he was the billionaire’s son-in-law, then promptly visited the billionaire to propose marriage by claiming he was a bank executive.

Though the tale was apocryphal, that very trick of conjuring wealth from thin air mirrored Intepis’s current gambit perfectly.

“A decent play, admittedly risky with low odds of success…”

Han Xiao gave a silent nod of approval.

Yet, while others might see it as a masterful bluff, to his eyes it was nothing short of inviting a wolf into the fold; a wild patch of leeks had uprooted itself and leaped willingly into his bowl, and to spare the sickle would be an insult to his very station!

Establishing a branch on an ordinary planet was a trivial profit that Han Xiao scarcely regarded; what he truly coveted was Intepis himself.

In any era, capable minds remain the most vital of resources.

A quest had indeed triggered on his interface, though it offered only a meager experience reward; better than nothing, so Han Xiao accepted it with a casual thought.

The journey concluded at Intepis’s villa, where Han Xiao and Aurora took up residence; terrified of offending the magnate, Intepis only exhaled in relief after every arrangement had been meticulously settled.

The bodyguards retreated to their posts, and in the empty corridor, the secretary could no longer contain herself, slipping her arms around Intepis’s neck from behind, her face alight with exhilaration.

“Wonderful! With the Black Star’s backing, our victory is guaranteed!”

Intepis forced a thin smile, then shook his head, his voice dropping to a solemn register. “His presence alone is sufficient; I am merely borrowing his deterrent aura. As long as the great families refrain from foul play, I will win this election fair and square!”

“You have no idea; when the Black Star materialized earlier, I nearly died of fright.” The secretary rolled her eyes. “This was far too reckless; please, never do it again.”

“Had we not dared to play this card, our fate would have been sealed.” Intepis’s gaze hardened with resolve. “Endlessly guessing a titan’s whims is futile; without taking the leap, how could we know if he would intervene? Fortune must be seized by the bold!”

……

Meanwhile, Han Xiao’s descent sent a shockwave through Radbudo’s aristocratic houses; upon receiving the news, the patriarchs convened immediately to deliberate their next move.

Within the conference chamber, the heads and key members of the great families wore grim expressions, the atmosphere heavy with dread.

“Our intelligence shows Intepis has no backing whatsoever; why would the Black Star personally come to see him?” one patriarch muttered, bewilderment etched across his face.

“Our information network must have a blind spot; investigate his connection to the Black Star at once! Until then, halt all plans and deployments targeting Intepis!” another barked.

The Black Star’s presence had shattered their meticulous schemes, becoming an insurmountable obstacle in their calculations; every subsequent action now had to be weighed against his potential wrath.

Every person in the room was gripped by suspicion regarding the nature of their relationship, which was precisely the misunderstanding Intepis had hoped to cultivate among the rival houses.

With the Black Star looming nearby, any assassination plot was rendered impossible, its success rate plummeting to zero; if Intepis truly counted the Black Star as an ally, a single reckless move would spell their doom.

The members of the great families knew their place all too well; they might play tyrants on this backwater world, but compared to the Black Star, they were no more than ants beneath a boot.

Even if the Black Star slaughtered them all, the cosmos would not ripple; as a vassal civilization under Imperial jurisdiction, the central government would never lift a finger to avenge them.

To die would be to perish for nothing!

“Thank the stars we called off the assassination in time, or else by now…” one patriarch murmured, lingering fear cold in his veins.

“The current planetary lord still belongs to our coalition; let us pay a visit to the Black Star first. It is a flawless diplomatic gesture, and we might glean some intelligence in the process.”

……

Several hours later, the incumbent planetary lord of Radbudo arrived at Intepis’s villa bearing gifts, leading a retinue in a proactive display of courtesy.

Though Han Xiao was merely a guest, he commanded the estate like its master; Intepis dared not overstep by turning visitors away on his behalf, and dutifully sent word upstairs.

The lord of Radbudo waited outside for a time before being granted entry, suppressing the nervous thrill of meeting a legend as he was escorted to the drawing room.

Yet the moment he crossed the threshold, he froze; Han Xiao was nowhere to be seen, only a petite, delicate girl sitting upright on the sofa with an air of solemnity.

Regaining his wits, he remembered she was the attendant who shadowed the Black Star; he swiftly masked his surprise and took a respectful seat opposite her.

“You may state your business to me.” Aurora strove to maintain an expression of rigid, unyielding seriousness.

The planetary lord offered a cramped smile, rubbing his hands together, his usual majesty entirely vanished as his tone dripped with sycophancy:

“As the ruler of Radbudo, I deeply wish to pay my respects to Lord Black Star and personally oversee the arrangements for his stay…”

“Spare yourself the trouble; Lord Black Star is not someone you may summon on a whim.” Aurora waved a dismissive hand, perfectly mimicking the cadence Han Xiao had taught her. “If that is all, you may take your leave.”

Unwilling to yield, the lord probed with a few more careful phrases, but upon seeing Aurora’s brows knit together, he dared not linger and promptly rose to depart.

Stepping out of the villa, the planetary lord’s complexion turned ashen; denied even a glimpse of the Black Star while Intepis enjoyed private audience, the implication dragged his heart into an abyss.

……

Han Xiao’s current stature possessed the power to simplify low-tier complexities; his name alone cast a long shadow, cowing the great families into hesitation, terrified of provoking the Black Star’s fury and thus afraid to deploy heavy-handed tactics, leaving them to watch helplessly as Intepis’s campaign surged and his approval ratings climbed beyond their reach.

While honing his psychic energy, Han Xiao bided his time on Radbudo, and before long, election day dawned.

On election day, Intepus secured victory without a shadow of doubt, riding a tidal wave of overwhelming support.

He delivered a fervent inaugural address to a global audience, marched through the requisite ceremonies, and watched the better part of the day slip away.

As dusk deepened and night drew its veil, the facades of skyscrapers flickered with looping broadcasts of his speech; passersby occasionally paused to gaze upward, while cheers and the clinking of glasses drifted from corner taverns where common folk celebrated.

An aerial transport drifted languidly through the half-light, and from within its cabin, Intepus stared trance-like through the glass at the unfolding cityscape, ten thousand household lamps carving luminous streaks across his eyes.

Beneath the darkening sky, his thrill and jubilation slowly ebbed; the thought of a formidable deity awaiting him at home drained whatever joy remained.

The craft settled before the villa gates, and though it was his own dwelling, it now loomed like a slumbering beast that made him hesitate; Intepus drew a steadying breath, mastered his nerves, and strode inside.

“You’re back?”

Hardly had he crossed the threshold when he spotted Aurora leaning against the wall in the foyer corridor, waiting for him; she pointed toward the upper floor and offered a faint smile.

“He’s waiting for you in the study.”

Intepus nervously kneaded his fingers together and made his way to the upstairs study.

Han Xiao stood alone in the room, his back turned, head bowed over a volume plucked from the shelves; without needing to glance back, he sensed the arrival and spoke in a measured tone:

“Since you’re here, take a seat.”

“Y-yes, of course.”

The heavy air in the room compelled Intepus to swallow hard before he lowered himself into the chair before the desk.

Han Xiao closed the book, turned to face Intepus, his expression utterly unreadable.

“Now that you’ve won the election, it is time to honor our terms.”

Intepus exhaled in relief and replied with deference, “I understand. I will immediately wield my authority to arrange full cooperation between Planet Radbudu and the Black Star Army, lending our utmost support to establish your branch here, I…”

Yet before the words could fully leave his lips, Han Xiao raised a hand to cut him off.

“I am not here to discuss such trivialities.”

Intepus felt a sudden, heavy drop in his chest.

Han Xiao fixed him with a calm gaze and spoke slowly, “Since the deed is done, I shall speak plainly: leveraging my formidable presence to cow the great houses was merely your surface objective. Your second aim is to secure the Army’s enduring backing by planting a branch here… Only thus can you guarantee your seat as Lord remains unshaken.”

At these words, Intepus fell into a heavy silence.

It was, indeed, precisely his design.

Electoral victory was but an opening move; after decades of entrenchment on Radbudu, the great houses already held every tier of officialdom in their grip, rendering his lordship a hollow puppetry devoid of real power. Once Black Star departed and the houses unraveled the truth of their arrangement, his life would still hang by a thread.

Thus, for the sake of the long game, he needed a patron, a steadfast bulwark.

Black Star, happening to linger in nearby space, had caught his eye and become his prime choice; the deeper stratagem was to transform the Black Star Army into his own shield, using the tide of cooperation to cement his lordship.

“What is it you want?”

Intepus pressed his lips together, his features darkening.

Han Xiao watched him, then suddenly broke into a smile, and the suffocating tension in the room instantly evaporated.

“Do not be so tense; since I chose to aid you, I naturally have no intention of harming you.”

Intepus reasoned the same, and his taut nerves immediately uncoiled.

Yet before he could draw a full breath, Han Xiao’s next words froze him in place.

“Enough now, you’ve had your fun; pack your belongings and come aboard my ship.”

As the words fell, Intepus’s expression instantly turned to stone.