The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

These books felt more like an artist’s imaginative take on the world of command.

Using such books, one wouldn’t just struggle to learn how to be a commander—it would even be difficult to gain a basic understanding of command.

Jiang Hui wasn’t considering switching to the Command program, at least not yet. She had been contemplating her options for the future, especially for what to pursue a year from now. However, she hadn’t made up her mind because she couldn’t yet guarantee her commitment to any particular path. Command was merely one of the potential directions she was exploring.

Still, learning more never hurt. No matter what she decided to do in the future, living in an interstellar society meant anything was possible.

In fact, she had another option: using her elective course card. Her advisor, Captain Stark, had already given her a long list of recommended elective courses, all lined up and waiting for her to explore. Jiang Hui figured she’d keep the card for now and decide how to use it later.

As for command-related knowledge, she’d find another way to approach it. For now, she could stick to reading miscellaneous books to gain a basic understanding. That would be enough for the time being.

However, even just trying to understand the basics of command was proving so difficult that it significantly dampened Jiang Hui’s motivation to study it. It was frustrating—when she had wanted to learn about the “odds and ends” of the Mecha program, it had been so easy to find relevant materials. Why was command so different? Could it really be, as the school’s internal forums suggested, an “extremely secretive organization”?

Come to think of it, it might be true. It had already been three weeks since the semester started, and Jiang Hui felt like she had interacted with students from almost every program. Some courses even combined students from different majors. But the Command program stood out—she had hardly encountered any Command students in the school.

People like Huan Xian and Lin Maowu? She hadn’t run into them again.

She had heard that the Command program included courses like wilderness training and night classes, which seemed entirely disconnected from the schedules of other departments.

During her time recovering in the infirmary, Huan Xian had visited twice. However, his demeanor was much quieter than his performance during the competition. He seemed perfectly comfortable with silence and wasn’t at all bothered by Xierman’s chatter.

It was as if Huan Xian preferred to show his true, unfiltered self around Jiang Hui and her group. To be honest, his real personality came across as someone even colder and more withdrawn than Clarens. Compared to him, even Jiang Hui seemed downright warm, let alone the lively and outgoing Zhou Xiuwen and Xierman.

Afterward, perhaps due to their respective course schedules, Jiang Hui and Huan Xian lost contact. Jiang Hui wasn’t the type to initiate a conversation, and Huan Xian didn’t seem inclined to reach out either. Their contact list entries in the holographic system remained blank, with no messages exchanged. It was as if the competition they had participated in together was nothing more than a fleeting dream.

And maybe that was how it should be. After all, it was just a competition—there was no obligation to forge close friendships as a result.

For example, she had run into Huo Qi and Mu Kun from Class 1 a few times, but there seemed to be some tension between them. Jiang Hui couldn’t tell if it was due to their personalities clashing or some prior conflict.

After all, it was just a competition. Once it was over, everything went back to normal. Even Jiang Hui, despite winning first place, didn’t become some kind of “star figure” in her grade. If anything, she felt like her teachers had started holding her to even stricter standards.

Occasionally, Zhou Xiuwen would contact her. They had even bumped into each other at the library before and ended up grabbing a meal together with Xierman, who had practically made a habit of seeking Jiang Hui out to share meals.

Today, Jiang Hui’s plan was simple: head to the library to find some books to read and then spend the afternoon assembling a newly purchased mecha model. It was a limited-edition piece she’d managed to acquire through Hillman’s family connections. Apparently, it was a newly released design featuring a multi-layered structure.

To get her hands on it, she’d promised Xierman two weeks of lunches and tutoring for their cultural studies class.

But it seemed today’s plan would be disrupted. In the library’s reading room, Jiang Hui unexpectedly ran into a “rare guest.”

Bored out of her mind, she had just finished eliminating yet another overly fantastical “educational” book on command.

“Jiang Hui?”

She looked up at the person addressing her and saw Huan Xian standing not too far away.

He was dressed in the custom Command department uniform. The fact that he was wearing this tightly buttoned uniform even on a day off suggested he was someone who lived in a perpetually tense state.

“Morning, Huan Xian,” Jiang Hui replied.

Since he’d called her by name first, addressing him as “Classmate Huan” would’ve felt overly formal. They were fairly familiar with each other, so using his name directly felt more natural.

Huan Xian gave her a quick once-over before his gaze settled on her leg. “How’s your leg injury?” he asked.

“It’s fully healed. The therapist cleared it during the follow-up, and they said there are no issues at all,” Jiang Hui replied.

He seemed to hesitate, as though unsure of how to continue the conversation. His eyes then shifted to the book Jiang Hui had been flipping through, and his expression stiffened slightly.

“Don’t bother with that one… It’s complete nonsense!” His tone was firm, with a hint of exasperation.

Great, so it wasn’t just her. Even a student from the Command program admitted the book was nonsense, which clearly meant it was as bad as she thought.

Naturally, Jiang Hui asked, “Do you have any books you’d recommend?”

Huan Xian’s timing couldn’t have been better. She had been struggling to find useful information about command, and here he was—essentially a walking reference guide. She figured she might as well ask him directly and, while she was at it, see if he could recommend some genuinely helpful materials.

Of course, if he could lend her a textbook, that would be even better.

Yes, Jiang Hui was shameless, and her plan was perfectly calculated.

To her surprise, Huan Xian actually thought about it for a moment and confirmed that there wasn’t much in the school’s library worth reading on the subject. He even offered to make copies of their textbooks and send them to her.

Making copies seemed like a waste—he could just lend her the books for a quick look. With her enhanced brain, practically a walking scanner at this point, she could breeze through ten books without breaking a sweat.

Huan Xian didn’t seem surprised by her request at all and said he’d organize the materials and send them to her later.

Indeed, everything goes smoother when you have friends. One of the rare friends she had made since arriving in this interstellar society had proven to be reliable. Jiang Hui completely forgot how she’d previously mocked him for being even more of a homebody than she was. She didn’t dwell on whether he actually considered her a friend, either. He was here now, and even if they hadn’t been friends before…well, one meal together might just change that.

That was something Xierman had taught her.

Besides, as someone from China, Jiang Hui had grown up with the saying, “There’s nothing that can’t be resolved at the dinner table.” Surely that principle worked just as well in an interstellar context.

So, she extended an invitation to her “friend” for a meal.

Huan Xian, entirely oblivious to her strategy, was a little surprised that Jiang Hui would invite him to eat in the cafeteria. However, he agreed without hesitation.

Worried that she and Huan Xian might run out of things to say and face awkward silences, Jiang Hui quickly “@mentioned” the “Chatterbox No. 1” Xierman and “Helpful Person No. 2” Zhou Xiuwen. With those two around, even if Jiang Hui stayed silent, they could easily keep the conversation lively.

Jiang Hui was very pleased with her arrangement. As she and Huan Xian headed toward the cafeteria, it felt just like three weeks ago—walking together at a polite distance but heading in the same direction as a team.

Meanwhile, the reading room administrator, who had been quietly betting with their assistant on how many books Jiang Hui would check out this time, suffered an unfortunate loss—the first one since the betting started.