The Fake Son Wants to Live [BL]-Chapter 169 - Exchange

Bian walked silently behind Wang Bushen, each step echoing faintly on the cold steel floor. The research center felt too big—too sterile. The kind of place where terrible things happened behind glass walls and smiling men called it progress.

Wang Bushen led them straight toward the massive ship in the center of the facility. The closer they got, the more intricate its construction appeared—like nothing from Earth. Alien markings glimmered faintly along the hull, and some of the ship’s panels were still open, exposing coils of softly glowing wires, humming with faint energy. Scientists moved around it like bees in a hive, careful, methodical.

"We’ve replicated the technology we’ve researched from the Graylings," Wang Bushen began, voice steady and proud, "as well as from the Farians we’ve managed to come across. It’s still in testing mode, but with this tech, we can stand on equal footing with the aliens."

He turned slightly, smiling as though expecting praise.

But Bian wasn’t listening.

His gaze had shifted—drawn toward the tanked figures suspended in liquid to the side. He stepped away from the others, approaching one of the cryo-pods.

It stood taller than him, sealed tight with a thick glass that shimmered under the lights. Inside floated a man—his skin faintly tinted gray-blue, his chest bare, marked with long scars. Multiple tubes were connected to his body, snaking from ports in his arms, neck, and spine. His face was peaceful. Too peaceful.

A heart monitor beeped softly nearby.

Still alive.

Bian pressed a hand gently against the glass. His fingers curled slightly, and his brow furrowed.

"He’s still alive..." he murmured.

"Yes," Wang Bushen confirmed as he stepped closer. "As we’ve observed, they tend to live for a very long time. This one is the third subject we found. Their craft had crashed into the atmosphere, near the southern mountains. We made sure to keep them alive while we researched them."

"Researched," Bian echoed bitterly under his breath.

Wang Bushen didn’t seem to notice—or didn’t care.

Bian turned away from the first tank and walked toward the others.

The second pod was similar—another figure suspended, unreadable.

But it was the third one that made him pause.

Inside floated a woman.

She was curled into herself, arms wrapped loosely around her knees. Pale blonde hair floated freely in the fluid, long and silky, drifting like strands of golden thread. It shimmered softly in the light, wrapping around her like a cloak.

Her face was still, lips slightly parted. Long lashes cast delicate shadows over her pale skin. She looked... unreal. Like someone drawn from a dream. Her body, though naked, was graceful and unmarred, almost like a sculpture.

But the most striking feature was the small circular stone embedded in her forehead—deep green, like polished jade. It pulsed faintly with an inner light, syncing occasionally with the monitor beside the tank. It wasn’t just ornamental. It was something alive. Something connected to her very being.

Bian stared at it, entranced and disturbed all at once.

She looked like a character from a children’s fantasy book—like Rapunzel, trapped in a crystal prison. But there was no innocence to it. No storybook magic. Just wires. Liquid. Silence. A living person frozen in time, her beauty trapped behind glass.

He swallowed and looked to Wang Bushen again. "Where did you find her?"

"She was recovered from the wreckage," Wang said, hands behind his back. "It’s unclear whether she was a soldier or something more... unique. Her stone is unlike the others we’ve found."

"And you’ve kept her like this?" Bian asked, voice lower, strained. "All this time?"

"She hasn’t aged a day," Wang replied. "Her vitals remain stable. We’ve tried waking her up before, but the moment we interfere with the stone... her heart rate spikes dangerously. So for now, we observe."

Bian stood there, unmoving, staring at the floating woman.

She looked like she might open her eyes at any second.

And scream.

Dican stepped beside him quietly. His expression was unreadable.

The hum of machines filled the silence.

Bian stared at the green stone on the woman’s forehead with growing intensity. It wasn’t just decorative. No. That deep, glowing jade... he recognized it now.

A Jedi.

His breath caught in his throat. That meant—

"She’s royal," he muttered under his breath. "She has royal blood..."

The realization crept in like a cold wind down his spine. This woman wasn’t just another Farian soldier or scout. She was of the bloodline. Perhaps even a princess—or someone close to it. A figure of political and symbolic importance among the Farians.

Bian’s mind started racing.

Could I use her instead...?

His heart thudded. She was perfect. If he brought her back, she would be seen as one of their own—proof of power, leverage in negotiations, maybe even a path to authority.

But then his gaze drifted to the Jedi embedded in her skin again. That stone made things... complicated.

He thought through the implications. If he claimed to be someone from her family—claimed to share that royal blood—he would have to explain his own lack of a Jedi. The Farians weren’t fools. They could trace DNA. They’d know he wasn’t part of the same bloodline. They’d know he was lying.

He couldn’t risk that. Not with Dican watching so closely. Not with the royal families still fractured and desperate for real heirs.

So that option... was out.

Slowly, Bian turned his head toward the other tank—the one adjacent to hers.

Another Farian floated inside.

A male.

His figure was lean, his skin pale and patterned subtly with silver markings. His eyes were shut, face unreadable, but something about him radiated strength even in unconsciousness. The tubes connected to him pulsed steadily, and his vitals looked stable.

Bian’s expression shifted slightly. He didn’t need Jian anymore. Not when he had this.

The male Farian was perfect. Powerful. Royal, likely. And if Bian bonded with him... he could bypass the problem entirely.

He wouldn’t have to pretend to be a prince.

He would simply become Dican’s mate.

And that carried a different kind of influence. One the Farian courts couldn’t question. freewebnσvel.cѳm

He stared at the male in the tank, jaw tightening. He already had enough samples—enough material to replicate what he needed. Jian’s usefulness was nearing its end. This Farian... this was his real path forward.

He turned sharply and faced Wang Bushen.

"What do you want in exchange for this one?" Bian asked, voice low but steady.

Wang Bushen didn’t even blink. "Safety," he said. "And power."

There was no hesitation. No discussion.

Bian smiled faintly.

"We have a deal."

Their eyes met.

And just like that, the foundations of Bian’s next plan were sealed.