FM - 3

Chapter 03: The Battle of Tuum

After the negotiation meeting ended, the satellite phone in the car rang.  

Du Boqin answered it. It was the Secretary-General of the office: “Your Highness, Madam wishes to speak with you.” Du Boqin responded affirmatively.  

His mother’s voice came through: “Boqin?” Du Boqin replied: “It’s me, Mom.”  

Du Boqin leaned his head back against the seat and loosened his tie.  

His mother on the other end said: “I saw the news; you’re on a visit?” Du Boqin pinched the bridge of his nose and softly responded: “Mm, accompanying the Minister of Defense in negotiations.”  

His mother gently said: “Mom doesn’t take long-haul flights anymore. Your younger brother and sister have already gone over to the house on Long Island. You three siblings should gather together.”  

Du Boqin replied: “Alright.”  

Du Boqin hung up and dialed another number, giving an order: “Let’s return to the East Coast.” At the exit of Kennedy Airport, the second son of the Duval family was waiting. He wore a light gray casual jacket, his youthful face beaming with a smile.  

Du Baizheng stepped forward and embraced him: “Big Brother, happy birthday.”  

Both brothers had tall, slender builds, but Du Boqin carried himself with a straighter back. Two years older than Baizheng, he exuded a more resolute and composed demeanor, his eyes tinged with a somber melancholy. Baizheng, on the other hand, appeared as a capable young elite.  

At the end of June in Nassau County, looking out from the villa’s corridor, the sea stretched out a brilliant azure blue. Du Boqin spent his thirtieth birthday in the company of his younger brother, his brother’s girlfriend, and his younger sister.  

At the time of departure, Yi She arrived to pick him up. His younger brother and sister embraced him at the entrance. His younger sister, Baiyu, said: “Big Brother, you’ve sacrificed so much for us.”  

Du Boqin patted her shoulder: “What nonsense are you talking about?”  

Du Baiyu looked at her older brother with concern: “We can’t make you happy.” Du Boqin smiled: “Having you all brings me comfort.”  

Du Baiyu said: “Don’t overwork yourself.” Du Boqin nodded, then got into the car and left.  

He closed his eyes to rest on the sofa of the plane. A guard quietly entered and gently pulled down the window shade.  

Outside the window, the bright sunlight over the horizon and the endless expanse of sky were suddenly replaced by darkness as they fell upon his gaze.  

Fatigue washed over him. For the first time in many years, he felt weary from work, overwhelmed by a sense of powerlessness. Since returning from England, every day of his life had been packed with schedules—modifications, study sessions, meetings, training. From the cockpit at tens of thousands of feet, the view was nothing but an expansive horizon, with an orange sun hanging at its edge, making him feel infinitely distant from the world.  

There was no telling when he might crash. Every time he took to the skies, there was no guarantee he’d return. In the most dangerous incident, he had parachuted out after a crash. The wreckage was found first, and his will was sent back to Condor Manor, where the entire estate erupted in tears.  

Such psychological pressure was unbearable for most families.  

His mother couldn’t bear for him to endure what his father had faced in the military and political circles of Mo Country, which is why she opposed him enlisting, especially in such a high-risk branch. Among Mo Country’s noble families, even those whose ancestors had military achievements preferred their descendants to enjoy their legacy rather than enlist again. Elders didn’t want their children to endure such hardships.  

Though he felt guilty toward his family, he could only silently endure. His passion for flying ran deep in his blood, leading him to defy his mother’s wishes. In the early years after joining the Air Force, his father was still alive, and his mother had some emotional solace. But after his father’s sudden passing, Du Boqin returned from England to handle the funeral and subsequently requested a transfer to the northern mountainous region.  

From then on, aside from one month of routine recuperation each year, he spent only ten days annually at Condor Manor, forsaking the bustling metropolitan life of the capital to live alone in a remote airbase.  

By that time, his younger brother Baizheng was already studying in America. His mother left the Condor Estate to him, along with the entire staff and security team, while she moved away from Mo Country with Baiyu.  

He remained in Mo Country, assigned to the northern military district, stationed in the most desolate and remote areas. Each day, he flew missions, taking off and landing, patrolling the Gobi desert and coastline from ten thousand meters above, gazing at the North Chire Coast, which his father had wished to reclaim but never could.  

He once thought this would be his life forever, never expecting to meet Zhen Ning again.  

After meeting her, he thought he’d settle down, but instead, he found himself back at square one.  

The only difference was that he now understood something else—he had lost the only ray of sunshine in his life.  

Yi She, the head of the guards, glanced at Du Boqin’s expression before drawing the curtains of the cabin lounge and stepping outside to contact the private doctor of the Condor Estate.  

At 6:10 AM, the Ministry of Defense’s private jet came to a stop on the runway. The Secretary-General was already waiting at the foot of the boarding stairs: “Your Highness, the Chancellor of the Exchequer requests your presence.”  

Du Boqin accompanied the officials to Number Ten on Municipal Avenue.  

Luoke, the Finance Minister of Moselan and a core member of Major’s cabinet, sat in his office in the Ministry of Finance building.  

Luoke asked: “Have you read last week’s parliamentary report?” Du Boqin summoned his secretary to bring him an iced coffee to refresh himself: “Mm.”  

Luoke asked: “What’s your opinion on those oil fields in North Chire?” Du Boqin, his expression calm, replied: “Why not ask Xiangdongke?”  

Luoke responded: “I’ve already asked. They’ve been evasive, yielding no results.”  

Du Boqin’s expression didn’t change as he indifferently said: “I’m only responsible for defense matters. How economic forces are balanced is up to you.”  

Luoke hurriedly said: “Boqin—”  

Du Boqin interrupted: “My father’s dying wish was to reclaim North Chire. Luoke, if the cabinet proposes a bill, the support I offer won’t be insignificant.”  

Luoke’s face immediately relaxed, and he joked: “When you hold military power someday, Major will have no worries.”  

Du Boqin raised an eyebrow and chuckled.  

Luoke laughed and replied: “Wait until Major speaks with you personally. This batch of radar systems is just the beginning. Recently, the finance department has allocated billions in the budget for military expenditures. We’re eager to do something big.”  

Du Boqin returned to Dangguang Tower. As soon as he sat down in his office, Rebecca knocked and entered: “Your Highness, the boss is waiting for you in his office.”  

Du Boqin rose and headed upstairs.  

On the eleventh floor, the office of the current Minister of Defense, Pan Leige, was occupied by a man dressed in a crisp military uniform. His hair was streaked with gray as he slowly smoked a cigar, seated on the couch. He had taken over Du Boqin’s father’s position after the plane crash and had served as Mo Country’s Minister of Defense for nearly twenty years. Over the years, he had maintained stability through careful balancing acts. However, since Du Boqin became the Deputy Minister of Defense, he gradually revealed his determination to reclaim North Chire. Pan Leige wasn’t blind to the shifting tides; Du Boqin’s sharpness was becoming evident, not to mention the group of veteran ministers backing him, who constituted half of Mo Country’s military power.  

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on the door, and the secretary’s voice came through: “Minister, Prince Boqin has arrived.”  

That young man pushed open the door, his face expressionless, his demeanor increasingly composed.  

Pan Leige gestured for him to sit. Du Boqin settled into the couch opposite him. Pan Leige tapped his pipe and asked: “Have you met with Luoke?”  

Du Boqin gave a concise report: “Once the five newly constructed frigates are completed, they must enter the Chire Strait.”  

Pan Leige slowly drew on his pipe: “You know, there are quite a few in the lower house who oppose Major.”  

Du Boqin raised an eyebrow and silently smiled.  

“This trip has been tough on you. Your leave has been approved,” Pan Leige said, holding his pipe. “The old general has already submitted a report to me, saying you’re taking leave to meet his daughter for matchmaking.”  

Condor Manor.  

Du Boqin stepped out of the car. The lilac branches in the garden drooped to the ground, their fragrance faint but unable to mask the scent of powder clinging to him. He had just returned from a restaurant in the city, entered the hall, and tossed his suit jacket directly onto the sofa.  

After bathing that night, Du Boqin sat in the study on the second floor, opened the top drawer, and reopened the package sent from Huá Country.  

He inspected it again but found nothing new. Inside the box was only a ring—the engagement ring he had once given her.  

Nothing else. Not a word, not a piece of paper. She had been so stingy as to not leave a single sentence.  

He was angry at her deception but felt he had no right to be. Hadn’t he done the same when he left her without a word?  

Three years after they parted ways, he finally had the chance to go abroad. When he later returned to Ford, she was long gone.  

After graduation, her whereabouts were unknown. Du Boqin made multiple trips to London to no avail, sinking into a prolonged depression.  

He only knew she was from southwestern Huá Country but didn’t know her exact address. He had checked her student records in Ford, but Shu Zhen Ning hadn’t left a detailed address.  

And all of this had happened too long ago.  

When he first returned to his country, everyone associated with him was deemed unsafe. Among his classmates in London, Shu Zhen Ning, with whom he had shared a close relationship for a time, naturally came under the scrutiny of the investigation bureau.  

But their time together in London had been too brief. Even intelligence agencies couldn’t find more leads. He was relieved that Zhen Ning hadn’t left any traces in London, but because of this, he later had no way of finding her.  

She had written letters to his email, but he quickly deactivated that account because the only way to protect her was to cut off contact.  

But this time, she hadn’t written to him.  

As a cabinet member, everyone around him had to undergo rigorous political and identity checks. When they met again, only preliminary investigations had been conducted. Her identity, viewed now, was not entirely without suspicion.  

Du Boqin worried about her safety, but she had already been gone for half a year. Finding someone in a country spanning millions of square kilometers was no easy task.  

Du Boqin sat in the study for a while, reviewing several documents from the Ministry of Defense. By the time he finished, it was already eleven o’clock. Though on rare leave, his schedule was always strict. He turned off the lights, got up, and went to bed.  

The next afternoon, he was organizing hay in the estate’s stables.

From a distance, Old Ge opened the gate, and a young guard came running at full speed, shouting loudly: “Your Highness, there’s an emergency! Something has happened!”  

Du Boqin’s expression froze for a moment as his mind quickly sifted through the latest weather data and training schedule from the base this morning. He remembered that no test pilots were scheduled to take off today.  

The young guard had sprinted all the way up from the estate on the hillside, barely catching his breath: “Your Highness, the Minister urgently summons you!”  

Du Boqin felt a wave of relief. His greatest fear was a report of an accident at the airbase, but it wasn’t that. He rarely took time off, and Yi She, the Chief Guard, had been carrying a heavy workload, so he had also taken leave today. Du Boqin kicked away the hay bale in front of him and stepped out, ready to kick the guard in frustration: “What’s with all the yelling? How does Yi She train people around here?”  

The guard hastily scrambled away.  

The convoy drove out of the Condor Estate, speeding toward the urban area of Condor City. The car stopped in the second basement parking lot of Dangguang Tower. As soon as Du Boqin entered the elevator, he noticed that Pan Leige had almost recalled everyone who was on leave.  

The secretary handed him a document: “An urgent file transferred from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” Du Boqin took it, turned, and walked into the conference room.  

Pan Leige, the Defense Minister of Moselan, dressed in full military uniform with his collar buttoned tightly, reported the military situation with a serious expression. Then, he turned to the person seated to his right and asked: “Boqin, what do you think?”  

There wasn’t much change in Du Boqin’s resolute face, but his voice was devoid of any warmth: “That stretch of coastal defense should have been reorganized long ago.”  

Pan Leige said: “The special investigation team from the police department is requesting personnel. The positioning of the vessels requires reconnaissance aircraft from the Tuum Base, but those pilots are arrogant—none of them will obey orders unless they see you. I recommend sending you to the south. This time, we must completely eradicate these dangerous individuals. Boqin, this will be the cornerstone of your career at Dangguang Tower.”  

Du Boqin didn’t decline, simply nodding in agreement.  

On the morning of the last day of June, Moselan, a small Asian country, became the center of global news.  

At ten o’clock in the morning, on an island at the border between Moselan and Chua, a group of armed drug traffickers along the coast hijacked a passenger ship named “The Pearl.” The ship belonged to a tourism company in Condor City. The company had already received a ransom call from the suspects, and there were over a hundred people aboard, most of whom were foreign tourists.  

The southern island region had long been outside royal control. However, after Moselan gained independence and autonomy, the government had maintained a relatively lenient approach toward governing this area. Rich in marine tourism resources, the region had continuously received development support from Condor City. In recent years, however, a group of dangerous individuals from the Tuum tribe emerged, collaborating with guerrilla militias from neighboring countries at the border to secretly establish a maritime drug trafficking route. Moselan’s anti-drug police had attempted to suppress them multiple times, but every time, the leaders of the drug traffickers managed to escape to their stronghold in Chua after receiving warnings.  

Previously, the drug smuggling had been conducted covertly, but this hostage situation directly thrust the Moselan government into the media spotlight.  

This was almost the most significant diplomatic crisis since Moselan’s founding. Negotiation experts dispatched by the capital’s police department had already set out for the coastal frontlines.  

Outside the security cordon in front of the Moselan Ministry of Foreign Affairs building, a large crowd of international media had gathered.  

In the twilight of June, the sky was an eerily red hue, signaling an impending storm.  

The Tuum Islands in the southern frontier of Moselan.  

Near the southernmost border of Moselan, dense forests blocked out the tropical sun. Twenty kilometers from the coastline stood a row of dark green camouflage tents.  

The tires of the off-road vehicles were caked with mud. Infantrymen responsible for logistics sprayed insect repellent daily at the base camp. The forest was crisscrossed with rivers, swarming with mosquitoes and stiflingly humid. A sword frog puffed its cheeks as it clung to one of the tents.  

The hostage situation had entered its fourth day.  

Two-thirds of the hostages had been released, mostly women and children suffering from dehydration and hunger. The negotiation experts, posing as employees of the tourism company, had been stalling and maneuvering. The patience of the drug traffickers had run out, and the previous night, the first hostage—a young man—had been killed.  

The rescue operation could no longer be delayed.  

Yi She, the Chief Guard, waited outside the command center tent. Once the officers exited, he immediately entered to report: “Your Highness, Mr. James is waiting outside.”  

Du Boqin wore three-tone camouflage, black waterproof combat boots, and carried IIFS gear. Due to the heat inside the tent, he wore only short sleeves, revealing arms covered in red, swollen bites from insects he’d encountered while moving through the forest.  

He looked up as James entered the tent, carrying a bag.  

Du Boqin was slightly surprised. Before coming here, he had briefly summoned James once to inquire about the latest developments in his father’s case. He hadn’t expected James to rush to the frontlines: “Why are you here?”  

James reported quietly: “There’s progress in your father’s investigation.”  

Du Boqin, pressing his brow and stretching his legs, leaned back in his chair to rest. Upon hearing this, he immediately sat upright. James continued: “According to the recently declassified File 78, there’s an important detail in the Duke’s testimony from that time. Before boarding the plane, among the subordinates he met, there was a senior Marine Corps general named Howard. He claimed to have provided the Duke with crucial intelligence, but afterward, this person disappeared in Condor City. We’ve been searching for him, and recently, intelligence suggests he might be hiding among the Tuum tribe.”  

Du Boqin took the documents James handed over: “Details?”  

“Based on the investigation conducted by the intelligence department assisting the Marine Corps against this group of armed militants, someone has caught our attention. A person using the alias ‘Cai Lai’ is highly likely the individual we’re looking for.”  

Du Boqin stared at the documents and said: “No wonder he’s hiding here.” He set the file aside, leaning back in his chair to stretch his weary body: “It’s time to close the net. Stay behind to confirm.”  

James asked: “How do you plan to handle him?”  

James excitedly suggested: “Boqin, are you going to—send him a bullet?” Du Boqin remained noncommittal.  

James proposed again: “Then… send him to a military tribunal?” Du Boqin nodded.  

James shrugged: “Alright.”  

Du Boqin said indifferently: “What I want is not just revenge but my father’s innocence.” James replied: “If we need to ensure he can return alive to Condor City, we’ll require cooperation from the special forces.”  

Du Boqin was confident: “I’ll handle the arrangements.”  

Seeing the determination in his eyes, James suddenly grew uneasy: “The situation and terrain here are complex. If anything happens, send your guard unit to handle it.”  

Du Boqin stood up and patted his shoulder: “Don’t worry. After searching for so many years, I can’t afford to fail now.”  

---  

In the laboratory of Fengman Hotel.  

After finishing her work in the morning, Zhen Ning opened her laptop and clicked on the Moselan Broadcasting Corporation’s news website. The hostage situation on the island dominated the front pages of nearly all Moselan media outlets. Photos of the captain of “The Pearl,” tied to a palm tree in the jungle, had been released to the media.  

The latest update was from two days ago. On the afternoon of the second day after the kidnapping, the tourism company paid the first substantial ransom. The criminals released ten foreign tourists. It was reported that there might be Chinese tourists on board, though the exact number was unclear.  

Subsequently, the Moselan military sealed off rescue information, completely thwarting the criminals’ attempt to create public pressure.  

In the afternoon, her father took her to the shooting range. After one round, she hit sixteen bullseyes. Feng Lun smiled: “My daughter has surpassed me.”  

Zhen Ning smiled, knowing full well that her father was deliberately letting her win to cheer her up.  

Her father had been home for a week, but her mother had recently appeared worried. One night, as Zhen Ning passed by the first floor, she heard her parents arguing in the study.  

Her mother’s anxious voice was deliberately lowered: “Do you really have to go yourself?”  

Her father replied calmly: “If he’s asking for help, it must be the worst-case scenario. Besides, he’s been evading capture for years—he’s extremely cautious and suspicious. He’ll only trust me.”  

Her father’s voice was firm: “We must bring him to a safe place. The Du family may have already uncovered his whereabouts. We must act quickly.”  

Her mother sighed: “You’re going like this, in such a situation—”  

Her father said: “I’ve left a letter in the drawer of the study. If I don’t return safely this time, I’ve already arranged everything at home. The children have grown up, and you should rest easy.”  

Her mother suddenly panicked: “Master!”  

“It’s alright—” her father quickly interrupted, and their voices dropped. That night, her second brother returned and had a long private conversation with their father in the study.  

Key figures under her father’s command moved back and forth through the house. The men’s faces were as serious as ever, but the somber atmosphere had lifted somewhat. Zhen Ning knew that once her father made a decision, everyone would give their all without hesitation.  

When her mother was at home, she remained serene. One day after dinner, her mother chatted with her brothers in the living room.  

Zhen Ning curled up on a sofa nearby, hugging her knees.  

Madam Feng asked her youngest son: “Last week, Aunt Liu invited you for tea, and you left halfway through. What happened?”  

Feng Ze replied discontentedly: “Mom, stop making me meet those boring people.” Her mother’s expression turned sour: “Who are you calling boring? That’s an elder.”  

Feng Ze retorted: “Then what about that Miss So-and-So she brought along?”  

Madam Feng scolded sternly: “That’s Aunt Liu’s niece, freshly returned from studying abroad. What harm is there in getting to know her? You’re always fooling around. Your eldest brother has already settled down, and you’re still aimless. How long do you plan to keep this up?”  

Feng Ze ignored his mother’s sharp words and grinned: “Isn’t there still Second Brother? You can go in order.”  

Madam Feng, who doted on her youngest son, softened: “I’m not rushing you to get married, but you should settle down.”  

Feng Ze said: “I’ll manage my own affairs.”  

Madam Feng brought up the topic again: “I’ve met that Miss. She’s beautiful and educated. What’s not to your liking?”  

Impatience flickered across Feng Ze’s face: “Mom, enough. Don’t bring this up every ten days or so.”  

Madam Feng persisted: “Or how about the daughter of Mr. Liu we met at the hotel restaurant? When she saw you, she said she liked you…”  

Feng Ze couldn’t take it anymore and raised his voice: “Mom, enough! You know perfectly well who I like!”  

Feng Hang, who was brewing tea nearby, hurriedly cut him off: “Third Brother!”

Feng Ze raised his voice: “Second Brother, there’s no need to stop me. You should tell Mom to stop making me go on blind dates. I’ll say it clearly today—I like my sister!”  

Zhen Ning, upon hearing this, looked up in confusion, staring blankly at the people before her.  

Madam Feng glared sternly at her youngest son: “If you know she’s your sister, don’t shame your father and me with such disgraceful behavior!”  

Feng Ze retorted defiantly: “Why can’t I like her? She’s not even a blood-related sister!”  

The second brother turned and said: “Sister, go upstairs first.”  

Zhen Ning was still in a daze. It wasn’t until she heard Third Brother’s words that she snapped back to reality. What had she just heard? What did Third Brother say?  

She hesitated before speaking: “Second Brother...”  

Madam Feng suddenly shrieked: “Don’t let her leave! Let her hear this! Let her think carefully about how she spends all day mingling with her own brothers!”  

Feng Ze shouted at his mother: “Mom! Have you gone mad?!”  

Madam Feng suddenly broke down, her voice sharp like a piercing blade: “I knew it! Back then, her mother stole my husband’s heart, and now she’s trying to steal my son! What sins did I commit in my past life to deserve this punishment?!”  

Feng Hang steadied her: “Mom, calm down.”  

Zhen Ning, in a daze, looked up and saw her mother’s face—once elegant, now showing signs of aging, with wrinkles forming at the corners of her eyes. She realized that the rumors she had heard growing up weren’t entirely false. As a child, she had been heartbroken that her mother didn’t seem to love her. Now she understood—it was already an act of great tolerance for her mother to accept her presence in the family.  

That night, Madam Feng smashed plates in the kitchen. When Father returned home and learned of the incident, he couldn’t calm her down either. He silently smoked in the study while Third Brother knelt in the backyard. Zhen Ning was kept under the watchful eye of the nanny in her room. The house was in chaos.  

By early morning, the large house gradually returned to silence. Zhen Ning went downstairs alone and knocked on the study door. She pushed it open to find her father sitting in a wide chair, reviewing documents. Zhen Ning slowly walked in, curling up and resting her head on her father’s knee.  

Her father stroked her hair, just as he had when she was little, and said gently: “My dear girl has suffered.”  

Zhen Ning closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, relaxing her body as she rested against her father’s knee. The familiar scent of leather mixed with tobacco enveloped her, and her tightly wound nerves slowly relaxed. She felt warm and reassured.  

From a young age, Zhen Ning had faintly overheard the old servants gossiping. Her mother, a young lady from a noble family in Mo Country, had been betrothed to marry the heir of the Feng family since childhood. However, while studying in England, her father met her biological mother through her mother, who was her classmate. From then on, he fell deeply in love with her biological mother and even proposed breaking off the engagement with her mother. But her biological mother never reciprocated his feelings. Instead, she met Zhen Ning’s biological father during her studies, and they married shortly after graduation.  

Despite the tangled web of love and resentment, the group of young people remained friends for many years. It was said that her father grieved silently for a long time afterward, and it was her mother who selflessly stood by him. Eventually, they married.  

This was why, when her biological parents passed away, they entrusted her to the Feng family.  

Feng Father said: “Don’t blame your mother. She’s upset because I’m leaving.”  

Zhen Ning looked up at him with hopeful eyes: “Dad, Peacock is pregnant. Have you been considering replacing her?”  

Feng Lun gazed at his daughter’s bright, sparkling eyes—the very same eyes that most resembled her biological mother.  

He was momentarily lost in thought.  

Zhen Ning tugged at his hand pleadingly: “I’ve been training with her this whole time. Let me take her place. Take me with you, Dad. Please, I beg you.”  

On the morning they left home, the weather was scorching. The workers carried their luggage out and loaded it into the car trunk.  

Zhen Ning remembered carrying a Hello Kitty backpack. Feng Ze approached her with an unreadable expression, hugged her, but there was no smile on his face.  

Her mother came out of the house and carefully adjusted her father’s shirt collar. Her father said gently: “Don’t worry.”  

Her mother smiled and nodded: “Come back soon.”  

Zhen Ning hugged her mother: “Mom, wait for us to return.”  

Her mother patted her shoulder and said: “Follow your second brother. He’ll protect you.” The driver took them to the airport.  

They departed from a small airport on the southwestern border of Huá Country. The four of them held tourist visas and crossed the border checkpoint. In a border town, they transferred vehicles, changed out of their clothes, and put on traditional local attire and sturdy boots suitable for hiking. They repacked their luggage, and the car drove along dusty roads, crossing half the country to reach the dense Tuum Forest near the Mo-Salan border. Near the estuary, where rivers crisscrossed, locals relied on boats for transportation. The group boarded a small boat, navigating through forests and rivers to approach the Tuum tribe’s settlement. The thick forest was shrouded in a gray haze.  

Disguised as villagers engaged in border trade, the four entered the boundary between Mo and Chua.  

In the distance, a camouflaged green military plane from Mo Country circled above the trees. Before Zhen Ning could confirm its position, the device in her pocket vibrated lightly. She opened it to find a satellite phone message from headquarters—Mo Country’s Marine Corps had attacked the hijacked passenger ship in the early hours, rescuing the hostages. Some of the criminals had been captured, and fortunately, their target, codenamed “C,” had not participated in the kidnapping.  

Zhen Ning quickened her pace to catch up with her father. Upon hearing the news, Feng Lun’s brow furrowed slightly: “If he’s hiding in the drug den, it’s still extremely dangerous. We need to move quickly.”  

The team of four led by her father consisted of Feng Lun as the leader and overall coordinator; Fang Kuai, the burly sniper who rarely spoke; Feng Hang, an expert in field operations; and Shu Zhen Ning, responsible for communications and intelligence.  

Their mission was to rescue a person codenamed “C.” Due to the importance and confidentiality of the operation, they brought only the bare minimum of personnel.  

A small boat carried the group along the river, passing through the forest and arriving at the coast on the other side of the Tuum Islands. They disembarked at the edge of the dense forest. Fang Kuai went ahead first and returned fifteen minutes later with a vehicle. The group got in and headed toward a small fishing village—a local seafood delivery truck reeking of fish. Fang Kuai focused on driving while Feng Hang and Zhen Ning observed the roadside situation on either side. After driving for over ten minutes, they were already ten kilometers from the coastline where they had landed. The roads along the island were blockaded by the army, with Mo-Salan forces searching for fleeing criminals. Zhen Ning knew they had already infiltrated behind enemy lines.  

It began to rain.  

The vehicle pulled into a small courtyard on the outskirts of the village. The operation plan had been meticulously laid out beforehand. Based on the latest intelligence, Feng Lun made final adjustments. First, Fang Kuai would infiltrate the dense forest where “C” was hiding. If he successfully approached him, he would immediately notify Feng Lun and Feng Hang waiting outside the forest. Feng Lun would confirm “C’s” identity and then devise a way to extract him. Feng Hang would provide cover, Fang Kuai would handle the rear guard, and they might encounter government forces raiding the drug den along the way. If they evaded the military’s search, they would rendezvous with Zhen Ning, who was stationed outside, and then board a prearranged boat to leave Mo-Salan.  

Before leaving, her father told her: “Sister, stay here and wait.” Zhen Ning whispered softly: “Father!”  

But Feng Lun already had a plan. Pointing at the map, he explained: “We’ll abandon the vehicle at Cun Sang Bay and proceed on foot into the kidnappers’ hideout in the forest. After rescuing C, if we retreat on foot, we must cross a swamp to reach a nearby ferry dock. However, there’s a corner here—a road created by villagers driving over rubber tree roots. A vehicle will be waiting there, allowing us to drive directly to the riverbank.”  

Feng Lun studied the map for a moment, marking a black area: “Zhen Zhen, stay in the house and monitor the communication equipment. When your second brother contacts you, drive over to meet them. Stay in touch with the extraction boat and coordinate our rendezvous to leave.” This was indeed the best course of action.  

Zhen Ning raised no further objections. She replied: “Understood.”  

Feng Lun addressed his daughter: “Ensure your safety. You know what to do.” Zhen Ning nodded solemnly.  

Zhen Ning sat motionless on a stool inside the house, her eyes fixed on the watch on her wrist. The second hand ticked happily, one notch at a time.  

This was a precision-engineered watch capable of withstanding extreme heat of 200 degrees Celsius and water pressure at depths of 100 meters. Inside, a 0.5-millimeter sensor transmitted encrypted messages via the Feng family’s private satellite network, enabling real-time communication with headquarters.  

Zhen Ning remained calm.  

The year her master deemed her ready to operate independently, she had just turned eighteen.  

If anyone possessed extraordinary talent in a particular area, Zhen Ning was undoubtedly one of them.  

Over the years, due to her father’s protective nature, she hadn’t undertaken many missions, mostly safeguarding important female clients. Yet no one in the Feng family underestimated her abilities.  

Her father, Feng Lun, and her master often remarked that their daughter seemed to have inherited exceptional wilderness survival genes from her geologist father. Her powers of observation and endurance were remarkable, but her striking beauty made her less inconspicuous. Thus, the Feng family rarely exposed her to enemy lines.  

If not for Zhen Ning’s persistent pleading, her father would never have allowed her to take this risk.  

Through a gap in the curtains, Zhen Ning observed the surroundings. The temporary location they had stayed in last night was an abandoned standalone house. Like other homes in southern Mo-Salan, it had once been a small, beautiful home. The traces of care from its former owners were still visible in the garden and garage.  

After a heavy rainstorm the previous night, the morning sun blazed fiercely, turning the roads outside muddy. Zhen Ning wore a light gray jacket made of special waterproof, quick-drying material. She checked her pulse—81 beats per minute. Everything was perfectly normal.  

Zhen Ning focused intently on her watch, waiting with full concentration. Her father and the others had been gone for an hour.  

She waited another hour. Based on her father’s plan and their pace, she should receive a message soon.  

Sure enough, the watch on her wrist vibrated lightly, followed by a faint flash of the signal light. Zhen Ning’s heart jolted. A red light flashed—indicating they had found the target. A minute later, another signal appeared. A green light blinked, accompanied by a soft “beep” and a slight vibration in her earpiece. This meant: All is safe; the team is preparing to withdraw.

Zhen Ning pressed a button on her watch, then quickly stood up and pulled out a black bag hidden under the bed. She grabbed it and ran outside.  

From the outside, the garage appeared abandoned. She opened the door to reveal a massive off-road vehicle parked inside. Zhen Ning opened the car door and jumped into the driver’s seat.  

This was a modified bulletproof off-road vehicle with highly resilient tires and reinforced glass capable of withstanding explosions exceeding four kilograms of force. Even under attack, it could provide substantial protection.  

Zhen Ning swiftly inspected the vehicle, then opened the bag and retrieved the firearms inside. She carried two weapons: an AR-15 automatic rifle and an M1911A1 .45 caliber pistol.  

She deftly released the safety catch.  

Then she slammed her foot down on the accelerator. The car roared loudly as it sped onto the bumpy coastal road. Zhen Ning focused intently on driving, navigating the winding path she had memorized from the map, racing toward the target location at breakneck speed.  

She had just passed Cun Sang Bay and spotted the vehicle her father’s team had abandoned. That was where they had disembarked before trekking into the dense forest to extract “C.” So far, everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly. Her task now was to locate the rubber-harvesting trail and rendezvous with her family members who were retreating.  

She drove the car both quickly and steadily.  

The vehicle rounded a bay and entered a narrow, densely wooded path. The brilliant sunlight was gradually obscured by the trees. Suddenly, the sound of gunfire—”rat-tat-tat”—came from outside the window.  

Zhen Ning immediately tensed up.  

Listening carefully, the sound was still somewhat distant. It was the rapid fire of a light machine gun, accompanied by intermittent explosions. Zhen Ning glanced outside the window and saw, deep within the distant forest, what appeared to be two groups of soldiers exchanging fire.  

Several figures in camouflage uniforms were retreating along a narrow, thorny hillside path. Explosions lit up the hilltop repeatedly. Zhen Ning observed that a small squad was pursuing a few individuals.  

Those individuals fought while retreating, gradually moving toward the edge of the forest. As the car approached, Zhen Ning could make out more details. The retreating group consisted of soldiers in Mo Country camouflage uniforms. They had taken a high ground position and set up a machine gun, desperately returning fire. Their fierce barrage suppressed the enemy from advancing. The relentless chatter of the machine gun continued, but due to the numerical disadvantage, several of their men were hit and fell.  

Outnumbered, it seemed this would soon become another massacre.  

Without taking her eyes off the road, Zhen Ning turned the steering wheel sharply, speeding through a patch of bushes.  

Casually glancing back in the rearview mirror, her heart suddenly leapt violently. Almost simultaneously, she slammed hard on the brakes.  

Zhen Ning turned her head and stared wide-eyed. On the mountain path, amidst the trees, a blurry figure clad in brown-green camouflage fatigues held a machine gun, firing back. The next moment, his body spasmed and paused for a few seconds, but he still stubbornly raised his weapon to fire until all the charging enemies rolled and fell. The figure staggered a few steps forward and finally collapsed onto a pile of decaying leaves.  

The dense forest suddenly fell silent.  

Zhen Ning kept her eyes fixed on the fallen figure. The instant he collapsed, her entire body trembled violently. A chill ran down her scalp as if her hot blood had suddenly flowed through a river frozen with icicles.  

In the next moment, she swiftly shifted into reverse, slammed the accelerator, sharply turned the steering wheel, then braked, picked up her gun, and jumped out. She leaped over the roadside drainage ditch and rolled down into a ravine.  

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.  

The air was thick with the acrid smell of gunpowder and blood.  

Suddenly, a small group of armed guerrilla soldiers emerged from the dense forest—about five or six men. They trampled over the bodies of their comrades scattered halfway up the hill, rushing madly toward the fallen figure, shouting wildly with an almost euphoric tone. They spoke in the Tuum dialect, which Zhen Ning couldn’t understand.  

Zhen Ning carefully observed the approaching men. Their emaciated bodies and darkened faces bore the marks of long-term drug use.  

Drug traffickers.  

Zhen Ning lay low, using the bushes to conceal herself. She slowed her breathing and aimed her gun.  

Zhen Ning steadied her breath, braced herself against the ground, and without hesitation, pulled the trigger.  

The sudden burst of firepower struck with overwhelming force. The men running down the mountain screamed as they fell one by one.  

At that moment, a man shouted in the Zongmi language: “There!”  

In the next instant, Zhen Ning rolled on the spot, dodging a burst of bullets, and swiftly returned fire.  

Within a minute, she swiftly annihilated the last group of criminals that had appeared.  

After confirming there was no further movement around her, Zhen Ning scrambled to her feet and ran toward the fallen figure. Her heart pounded violently, almost tearing through her chest.  

Suddenly, a chill swept across the back of her neck, followed by a faint whistling sound. Before her consciousness could react, Zhen Ning dropped to the ground and fired a shot in response.  

The last drug trafficker on the hilltop struggled and rolled down the slope. Zhen Ning didn’t stop; she kept running with all her might.  

The forest floor was covered with dry branches and leaves. The loose foliage concealed the uneven terrain and rocks beneath. Zhen Ning ran like a madwoman, falling several times before stumbling to the fallen figure.  

She knelt on the ground, trembling hands turning the man’s body over. Finally, she saw a familiar face.  

That handsome, cold, resolute face now had lowered eyelashes. Even in unconsciousness, his lips remained tightly pursed, his skin pale with a slight chill.  

Zhen Ning clenched her fist and pounded the ground fiercely.  

She knew it was him! She knew it was him!  

Wasn’t he a high-ranking Air Force general? Wasn’t he the heir to a noble royal family? Didn’t he have the most sophisticated guard unit?!  

How could he recklessly put himself in such peril!  

Zhen Ning quickly surveyed the surroundings. About a dozen guards and bodyguards accompanying him had all perished, their bodies and blood scattered everywhere.  

She tried calling out to him a few times, extending her fingers to check his breathing and pulse. He had completely lost consciousness.  

What kind of mission could possibly justify risking himself to this extent? When she had rushed over earlier, she had quickly scanned the area but hadn’t seen Yi She. Yi She, as his chief bodyguard, wasn’t by his side.  

Something about this situation was extremely suspicious.  

The first priority was to notify his escort team as quickly as possible.  

She examined the watch on his wrist—it was no challenge for her. After inspecting it, she pressed a small button on the side.  

Her hands never stopped moving. She forcefully tore open his outer clothing, pulled out a military knife from his pocket, and cut open his shirt. High-caliber machine gun rounds had pierced through his bulletproof vest. She saw the bullet wounds on his chest and abdomen, bleeding profusely and staining half his body red.  

Zhen Ning swiftly assessed his injuries. There were several bullet holes from his abdomen to his lungs, but none had struck his heart. Even under such intense fire, he had skillfully avoided fatal blows.  

He had lost too much blood.  

Zhen Ning opened the first aid kit on his uniform and efficiently bandaged his chest and abdominal wounds. The bleeding was temporarily stopped.  

Zhen Ning exhaled in relief, only then noticing the persistent vibrations in her cochlear implant. Her whole body shuddered.  

She was on a mission, yet she had delayed time on the road—a grave mistake. Her father and brother were still waiting for her to rendezvous.  

She stood up, stripped a coat from one of the dead men, and wrapped Du Boqin’s body with it. Due to excessive blood loss, his body temperature had rapidly dropped. The vibrations in her ear became more intense.  

There was no time left. Zhen Ning grabbed her weapons and sprinted back to the car.  

Her hands gripped the steering wheel again, sticky with blood—thick, sweet-smelling, death-laden blood. Her hands were full of Du Boqin’s blood.  

On the horizon, she saw a dark green army helicopter flying low toward this area.  

Zhen Ning floored the accelerator, and the car surged forward.  

On the rubber-harvesting road, she first saw a towering column of flames rise, followed by the muffled explosion of a rocket launcher.  

The entire forest shook, birds and beasts scattering chaotically.  

At that moment, Zhen Ning’s taut nerves snapped like a severed string. Her heart raced as if she were a dying patient.  

She pushed the accelerator to the limit. The car bounced violently on the uneven road, nearly flying off the ground as it raced at breakneck speed toward the target location. Before she could react, bullets rained from the trees on one side, hitting the bulletproof glass in a dense barrage. The car shook violently, and the immense inertia from the high-speed drive nearly threw her out of the driver’s seat.  

Summoning all her strength, Zhen Ning turned the steering wheel to stabilize the car, then opened the door and jumped out, rolling into a nearby clump of bushes.  

Another hail of bullets came straight at her.  

Suddenly, someone pressed down on her head and dragged her into a roadside ditch. Then someone pounced on her back, and a hoarse male voice said, “Zhen Ning, damn it, why are you so late!”  

It was her second brother, Feng Hang.

The buzzing echoes in her ears persisted as Zhen Ning looked around. The flames illuminated the entire sky, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning. They were too close to the explosion site; their skin felt scorched. Besides Second Brother, Zhen Ning only saw Fang Kuai positioned behind a nearby mound, firing back. She shouted, asking: “Where’s Dad?”  

Her second brother’s face was blackened with soot, his clothes stained with ashes from the explosions. His brow furrowed with icy fury, but he didn’t answer Zhen Ning’s question. Instead, he picked up his gun and called out to Fang Kuai: “Most of them have been blown up! I’ll suppress the fire, Fang Kuai—you protect her and retreat!”  

Fang Kuai swiftly changed magazines and wiped his face with one hand: “Second Young Master, you take the girl and go!”  

A volley of bullets landed on their right side. Feng Hang quickly shielded Zhen Ning beneath him as the ground shook violently beneath them, showering them with dust.  

Fang Kuai roared: “Second Young Master, let’s go!”  

Without hesitation, Feng Hang decisively commanded: “You follow immediately!”  

Feng Hang wasted no more time, grabbing Zhen Ning’s arm. Confused, Zhen Ning struggled and cried out: “Second Brother, where’s Dad?”  

Feng Hang dragged her outward: “Don’t ask—just go!”  

Fear and unease slowly overwhelmed her like a rising tide of black water. Fang Kuai moved toward them, gripping the machine gun.  

Feng Hang gritted his teeth and said: “Zhen Ning, pick up your gun—we’re breaking out.”  

Zhen Ning’s voice felt crushed by the suffocation in her chest. Trembling lips stuttered as she asked: “Second Brother, tell me first—”  

Feng Hang yanked her back: “Go!”  

In the next moment, a blinding flash of white light struck Zhen Ning like a thunderclap. Her body went limp, and she screamed in anguish: “Dad!”  

In the next instant, Feng Hang leapt up like a cheetah, catching the stumbling Zhen Ning and pulling her down. He rolled with her, pinning her to the ground with his massive hands, turning her face away, and then slapped her across the face.  

Zhen Ning froze instantly.  

Her whole body trembled, tears streaming down her face, though she felt no pain. Her eyes were fixed on the flames that had consumed everything.  

It was already too late.  

She felt as if the entire world had collapsed.  

Zhen Ning couldn’t clearly recall how they eventually escaped. All she remembered was covering each other as they ran wildly through the waist-deep mud in the reeds. Relying on the reflexes honed by years of rigorous training, she fired frantically until the last moment when her brother dragged her onto the boat.  

Fang Kuai jumped into the river and was pulled aboard by Zhen Ning. Her father and “C” had died in the explosion. In the western ward of the Feng family estate, Feng Hang had two bullets removed from his abdomen and arm. Since returning, Zhen Ning hadn’t eaten, drunk, or spoken a word, silently standing guard outside the room.  

Two days later, Feng Hang finally regained consciousness.  

The gates of the Feng estate were tightly shut, with infrared cameras constantly rotating. Feng Rong and Feng Ze led bodyguards in 24-hour shifts to maintain security.  

The Feng family convened a meeting in Zhantang.  

Zhantang was the highest decision-making body in the Feng family, typically presided over by the head of the household. It handled the planning, deployment, post-action review, and accountability for the most critical missions.  

The outcome of this mission was an irredeemable disaster by any measure.  

No matter how deep the grief, matters had to be addressed promptly.  

Zhen Ning’s expression was numb and calm. She was merely a shell standing in the room; her soul had been burned away by the forest fire.  

The atmosphere in Zhantang’s conference hall was heavy. Seated at the front were members involved in organizing and planning this operation: four operatives, one of her father’s confidential secretaries, and a military advisor. One central seat remained empty.  

The door opened, and a man walked in slowly. Everyone stood up.  

The man appeared to be in his sixties, with gray hair, sharp features, and dressed in an elegant silk cotton jacket.  

Zhen Ning hesitated, stepped forward to offer tea, holding the teacup, and called out hoarsely: “Master.”  

This elder was one of the most respected figures in the Feng family and the overseer of Zhantang. Almost all disciples trained under him had become pillars of the family. Now, looking at the devastated Zhen Ning—his final disciple and once a source of pride—he maintained a stern expression, though his voice softened slightly: “Sit beside me.”  

Zhen Ning remained standing, leaning against her master.  

With her father’s sudden passing, unrest spread among the family. It seemed that the eldest brother needed to summon the master to take charge.  

Zhen Ning scanned the room; her mother was absent. According to Feng family tradition, the matriarch did not involve herself in external affairs, even after her husband’s death, adhering strictly to the rules.  

After waiting a while, the door was pushed open again by the bodyguards. Feng Hang still couldn’t walk, supported by Third Brother Feng Ze.  

Feng Ze glanced at Zhen Ning. In just a few days, her once bright and lively eyes had sunk into hollows, her face pale and vacant, utterly broken by the tragedy.  

Everyone was present.  

The master began reviewing item by item. Feng Hang slowly recounted: After infiltrating, they successfully met “C.” Even suspecting it might be a trap set by the enemy, Feng Lun’s orders were clear: “Retreat quickly, fight our way out if we must.”  

During the retreat, Feng Hang and Fang Kuai protected the hostage and moved ahead while their father stayed behind. Barely three meters out, they encountered an encircling government army.  

Feng Hang broke out of the dense forest with “C,” but Zhen Ning’s car wasn’t there to meet them. Forced to retreat into the woods, they were surrounded by government forces. “C” was fatally shot during the firefight.  

Feng Lun detonated an explosion to halt most of the pursuers.  

Feng Hang spoke slowly but clearly: “It’s my responsibility—I failed to protect the target.”  

Zhen Ning interjected: “No, it’s my fault. I arrived too late.” Feng Hang replied: “Dad insisted on staying behind to cover us.”  

The master began questioning: “When did you receive Feng Hang’s signal?” Zhen Ning answered: “At 12:24.”  

The master asked: “Did you leave immediately?” Zhen Ning replied: “Yes.”  

The master continued: “How long did it take on the road? Was everything smooth?” Zhen Ning answered: “I encountered a firefight on the way—I saved someone.”  

The master’s expression grew increasingly serious. “Who?”  

“A Mo national being chased by drug traffickers who reached the roadside.” The master asked: “How long was the delay?”  

Zhen Ning replied: “About ten minutes.” The faces of those present subtly shifted.  

The master ceased questioning, his voice low: “Shu Zhen Ning, proceed to the half-court for punishment, administered by your master. For the next three years, you are forbidden from engaging in Feng family affairs.”  

Zhen Ning bit her lip, tears rolling down. Suddenly, she raised her head and rasped: “It’s all because of me—”  

In a flash, she grabbed a gun from the holster of a nearby guard and raised it to her head. Almost simultaneously, Feng Ze lunged forward.  

The gunshot rang out.  

The bullet struck the roof beam, shattering several tiles, sending dust cascading down. The master roared furiously: “Restrain her! Take her out!”  

---  

Fengman Hotel Fragrance Research Laboratory  

Zhen Ning received a call, removed her gloves, and exited the laboratory. She saw Feng Ze waiting at the lounge entrance.  

“Third Brother,” Zhen Ning sighed helplessly, “I’ve already said—”  

Feng Ze winked at her: “Don’t rush to refuse. Look who I’ve brought you.”  

A chubby little girl with a pink bow toddled toward her. Zhen Ning smiled immediately.  

“Hi, sweetheart,” Zhen Ning crouched down and lifted the girl. “Where’s your mom?”  

Eve, Peacock’s daughter, was just over a year old and learning to walk. Zhen Ning had watched her grow up—she was absolutely adorable.  

“Auntie, I want to put on perfume!” Eve planted a loud kiss on Zhen Ning’s cheek. “Alright.” Zhen Ning found a small apron, washed the child’s hands, and took her into the lab.  

“How’s everything lately?” Feng Ze leaned on the workbench, watching Zhen Ning prepare a petri dish with pure floral essence. She added some pink liquid and painted it on Eve’s nails, making the child giggle uncontrollably.  

Zhen Ning looked up at him, her dark pupils like a tranquil lake—clear and bright at first glance, but unfathomably deep upon closer inspection: “It’s fine. Third Brother, just call me if you need anything.”  

Feng Ze sighed, patting her head: “Take care.” Zhen Ning smiled faintly and turned back to check the thermometer in the apparatus.  

Feng Ze sat beside her workstation, forcing her to engage in sporadic conversation.  

More than a year had passed since their father’s death. Much had happened in that time. Zhen Ning had moved out of the Feng family mansion and started working at Fengman Group. Beyond work, she lived almost in complete isolation, spending every day in the lab at Fengman headquarters.  

Of everyone in the Feng family, her father had loved her the most. The impact of his death was something no one else could fully understand—it was a devastating blow that only she could truly comprehend.

Zhen Ning’s mental fortitude was no weaker than anyone else’s, but Feng Ze vividly remembered the day he had led a team to the border to retrieve them. She had remained calm while tending to her injured second brother, but when she looked up and saw him in that moment, her eyes were completely dark—utterly devoid of light.

For a time, a nanny stood guard 24 hours a day in the small hall outside her room, and all dangerous items in the room were removed. 

Now, with the family in turmoil and her second brother still recovering from his injuries, Feng Ze had taken on much of the responsibility for handling the aftermath alongside their eldest brother. All personnel involved in the operation had been exposed, and the Feng family had been closely monitoring developments in Mo Country’s political arena. Strangely, however, everything seemed eerily calm so far.

Not long after, Peacock came upstairs to fetch her daughter. After chatting with Zhen Ning for a while, she left. Zhen Ning sat cross-legged on a wooden chair in the lab. Reflecting, she realized it had been a while since she’d been home. The last time she returned was to attend the ceremony where her eldest brother officially took over as head of the Feng family, led there by her master.

It was there that she read her father’s final letter.

After her father sacrificed himself in a political assassination to ensure the safety of the entire family, he left his old master and moved away from Moselan. In his letter, he urged that all grievances end with his death, forbidding future generations from entangling themselves in royal affairs. Leadership of the Feng family’s enterprises was passed to her eldest brother, who had long overseen the operations of the Fengman Group. From then on, the family would fully transition into commerce.

Since then, Zhen Ning had been kept out of the loop regarding the family’s external affairs.

At Ban Tang, Zhen Ning dutifully accepted her punishment from her master. Every Sunday afternoon, she went to Ban Tang to discuss philosophy and practice martial arts with him, then spent an hour or two in the back hall guiding younger disciples in their training. She devoted herself wholeheartedly to caring for her mother, respecting her siblings and their spouses, and spending time with the children. Her family began to feel slightly reassured, but only she knew how deeply she felt the need to atone. She approached every task with almost religious devotion, determined not to disappoint her father’s spirit.

She didn’t want to let her father down—not even in death.

In her mind, the memories of that time were like sharp blades scraping relentlessly against her cerebral cortex, causing her pain day and night.

Feng Ze, worried about her, often visited. Each time, she urged him to leave quickly.

On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, she returned home for dinner. Her mother said to her: “Daughter, if you truly have feelings for Ze, I won’t oppose it.”

Zhen Ning shook her head gently but firmly: “Mother, I will always see him only as a brother.”

Feng Ze walked in just then, his expression tinged with disappointment. He glanced at the dining table but said nothing. After lunch, Feng Ze followed her upstairs.

Zhen Ning stopped in her tracks: “Why are you following me?”

Feng Ze’s tone was calm: “If you don’t marry, I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”

Zhen Ning turned around and looked at the handsome young man standing behind her. His eyes held unwavering determination. Having grown up close in age, she had always shared a special bond with her third brother. Their first tennis lesson, their first time handling a gun at the shooting range, their first trip to a bar, their first dance in formal attire—the boy by her side had always been Feng Ze.

They had grown up together, through childhood and adolescence, into adulthood.

After she left for England to study, she rarely returned home, unaware of when Feng Ze had begun to harbor feelings for her.

Zhen Ning shook her head again, her expression resolute yet tinged with reluctance: “Third Brother, this isn’t right.” She looked out the window at the lush shade of the trees in the courtyard.

---

Another peak tourist season had arrived.

May in Condor City.

The weather was warm, and the streets were in full bloom—it was the most beautiful month of the year.

The scent of flowers wafted through the air at night, enveloping the city in a mesmerizing and gentle ambiance. In the top-tier private room of the hotel restaurant, the gauzy curtains were drawn back. There were no tall buildings in sight, only an endless expanse of night sky.

Du Boqin wore a pale moon-white shirt, sitting upright as always, though his expression was somewhat somber as he absentmindedly pushed food around his plate.

Jiang Miaoya gazed tenderly at the man across from her: “The formalwear has been altered. Shall I have the designer send it over for you to try on?”

Du Boqin stared out the window, distracted. Jiang Miaoya called softly: “Boqin?”

He turned his head slightly and nodded: “Alright.”

“What’s got you so lost in thought?” The beautiful companion wasn’t upset, teasing him lightly. “The guest list has been drafted. Do you want to review it beforehand?” Du Boqin replied: “No, leave it to the secretarial department.”

Jiang Miaoya took an elegant sip of wine, tilting her head as she looked at him: “Hmm, about the engagement ceremony… what do you think of the suggestions from the King’s Office?”

Du Boqin frowned: “It’s too ostentatious.”

Jiang Miaoya’s voice dripped with sweetness: “You’re the eldest son of the Duval family, Boqin. This isn’t just about the two of us.”

Du Boqin didn’t respond further, slowly turning the glass of water in his hand as he sank into thought. In truth, the king had already discussed this matter with him at the Carla Palace. According to the King’s Office, after last year’s hostage crisis, Moselan’s tourism economy had fallen into a slump. As a member of the royal family, his marriage to a woman from a prestigious military family—a couple both talented and attractive—would serve as an opportunity to host a grand and heartwarming engagement ceremony to boost Moselan’s flagging tourism industry. It was framed as their duty.

Du Boqin’s brow tightened. He had no desire for such extravagance.

But the PR department at the Carla Palace was relentless. The date chosen for the engagement ceremony coincided with Mo Country’s most famous festival—the Lantern Flower Festival. After a round of exaggerated and laughable publicity, this supposedly “most elegant and luxurious royal engagement ceremony in recent years” from the mysterious Eastern nation drew widespread attention from media around the world.

In the past month, visa applications to Moselan had increased by 10%, surpassing last year’s numbers during the same period.

Jiang Miaoya sat beside him, wrapping her arm around his, coquettishly saying: “A grand affair isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Du Boqin gently patted her hand. The driver pulled into the Jiang family estate.

Jiang Miaoya kissed the man beside her, then took a beautifully wrapped box from her handbag and handed it to him: “For you.”

Du Boqin looked puzzled: “What is it?” Jiang Miaoya smiled: “A gift for your new position.”

After returning from Tuum injured, he had rested for a while. Although the wound in his lung had healed, his physical condition was no longer suitable for flying, forcing him to ground himself. Shortly after, before he could adjust to this change, he received an urgent appointment from Prime Minister Major. The cabinet was undergoing restructuring, and the hostage situation in the south had left the upper house in turmoil. Du Boqin had to leave the hospital early to attend the inauguration ceremony at the parliamentary building, subsequently taking over the duties of General Guo Peitang, who had resigned due to scandal. Today, he had just returned to the capital.

Du Boqin opened the black luxury-brand box. Inside was a silk tie with a dark grid pattern and a fine stripe of pale pink. His eyelashes lowered, concealing a faint glimmer in his shadowed eyes. A slight smile formed at the corner of his mouth as he turned to kiss her cheek: “Thank you.”

Jiang Miaoya stepped out of the car, then turned back to remind him: “Boqin, you’ve only just recovered. Don’t overexert yourself.”

Du Boqin nodded.

Sitting in the car, he watched as the bodyguards escorted her into the mansion.

Soon, the head of the guards returned, signaling for the others to follow. Bowing respectfully, he asked: “Your Highness, where to?”

Du Boqin murmured softly: “Let’s go home.”

The convoy departed from the Jiang residence. Du Boqin raised his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. During his hospital stay, his busy schedule sometimes forced him to temporarily halt treatment to handle official duties. He grew weary of people constantly nagging him about his health—but when it came from Miaoya, he couldn’t refuse.

The first person he saw upon waking from surgery was Miaoya.

After he was injured, his mother returned from Paris to Condor. Seeing Miaoya visiting him daily at the hospital, she smiled and said to General Jiang Wei: “Did Boqin ask me for the ring early and give it to Miaoya?”

Du Boqin lay silently on the hospital bed.

He stayed in the hospital for a month, during which Miaoya visited him every day. More than a year later, he finally gave her a ring—not the one his mother had given him. Miaoya wept with joy.

She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly, her chin resting on his shoulder. Du Boqin closed his eyes briefly, a faint pang of pain in his heart. He knew he had done the right thing. This was the only path left for his marriage.

When the car stopped under the building, Si San was already waiting in the corridor. A servant took his coat, and he went upstairs to shower. Though his body was tired, his mind was clear, so he sat in the study to review some official documents.

As he read, his thoughts drifted. Leaning forward, he pulled open a hidden compartment in the desk and retrieved a thick file—the final report James had given him.

Earlier this year, he had temporarily suspended James’s investigation into his father’s case. James had since returned to the military intelligence bureau to carry out other missions.

Since receiving this document, Du Boqin had read it countless times during his recovery at home after leaving the hospital. Eventually, he locked it away in the drawer, where it had remained untouched for nearly half a year.

Tonight, bathed in the gentle moonlight, he had just finished a hectic day of work. His fiancée was beautiful and considerate, and everything seemed fine. Yet, inexplicably, thoughts long submerged in the depths of his mind began to churn.

Du Boqin flipped through the dossier in his hands, scanning ten lines at a time. Starting from the first item of investigation, from every detail and person involved in that fateful afternoon, to the transcripts and testimonies in the national classified archives, to the reappearance of the senior Marine officer who had gone missing after the incident, to the battle in the dense forest where the target individual appeared—he turned page after page.

His hand paused on the third-to-last page.

That day, when government forces pursued Cai Lai, they had surrounded a mysterious and heavily armed guerrilla unit in the forest. A middle-aged man died in the explosion, the target individual was shot, and three others escaped—one of whom was a woman driving the getaway vehicle.

Aside from Cai Lai, whose identity they had been seeking, the DNA of another male corpse was matched by military intelligence.

On the profile of the man, Du Boqin found an old photograph. The middle-aged man was pictured with his children: three tall boys smiling with bright white teeth, and a little girl with two braids sitting on his lap.

Her true identity was the youngest daughter of the in-laws of Emperor Tuomo IV.  

With this revelation, everything began to make sense—her sudden appearance, her silent disappearance. He recalled the night Ping Ce went missing; Zhen Ning had been in Condor City, and it was highly possible that the princess’s disappearance was closely tied to the Feng family.  

James was deeply troubled by Cai Lai’s death: “Boqin, we’ve lost a key witness.” A lawyer nearby offered advice: “It doesn’t matter. The evidence is substantial. Since we’ve identified his accomplices, we can continue pursuing the investigation. There’s still a chance to bring the case to a military tribunal for retrial.” After the meeting ended that day, Du Boqin sat alone in his office for a long time.  

He remembered how she would proudly boast about having three older brothers who all vied to protect her. That wasn’t even the most remarkable part. As the only girl in the family, her adoptive father doted on her endlessly. Despite losing her biological parents at a young age, her adoptive parents treated her exceptionally well, and her teenage years were filled with happiness. Perhaps this upbringing contributed to her rare kindness and generosity. When he first met her at Ford University, she was bold, outgoing, and seemingly carefree.  

But her emotions felt so genuine—so real that he couldn’t detect a single flaw. Even his trusted chief of staff, Xie Zi, had warned him that falling in love could cloud his judgment, a common tactic used by spies.  

Should he continue the investigation? He hesitated, something he rarely did. In the darkness of the night, he stood on the balcony of his apartment, feeling as though there was a wind tunnel deep within his heart. His heart drifted endlessly amidst turbulent storms and chaotic air currents, never able to land.  

---

May 19th  

At Condor Airport, planes took off and landed continuously. In recent days, the airport was bustling with crowds, far busier than usual. Mo Country truly lived up to its reputation for offering the finest tourism services. No matter how hectic things got, the flight attendants always wore comforting smiles.  

Taxi drivers on the streets were busy soliciting tourists: “Heading to the Archbishop’s Palace of St. Paul? Today, our most handsome eldest prince is getting engaged to the most beautiful girl in Moselan. Goodness, what a perfect match!”  

The square in front of the Carla Palace was packed with visitors. The changing of the Royal Guard garnered even more cheers than usual. From the Carla Palace to the Archbishop’s Palace, and along the parkway surrounding the Christ River, the roads were flooded with people.  

The towering spires of St. Paul’s Archbishop Palace shimmered with golden brilliance in the morning light. This royal palace, over a hundred years old, had always been the venue for hosting distinguished guests and announcing major official news. Today, it would once again bear witness to a joyous national event—the engagement ceremony of Boqin Duval, the eldest son of the Duval family of Moselan, and Miss Jiang Miaoya, the youngest daughter of the most renowned general from Moselan’s War of Independence.  

For a long time, the public of Mo Country had been curious about which noble lady could be worthy of Prince Boqin. Like father, like daughter—Miaoya had also served in the military. Tabloids had extensively covered their love story. It was said that last year, when Prince Boqin was injured while pursuing drug traffickers in the Tuum Forest, it was Miaoya who personally piloted a plane to rescue him. Their wartime romance quickly blossomed into a passionate relationship, making them seem like a match made in heaven.  

Although it was only an engagement ceremony, and the proceedings were not open to the public, the noble lineage and outstanding talents of the couple made this royal engagement a media sensation.  

From nine o’clock onward, guests from both families began arriving. The arrival of each royal member elicited enthusiastic screams from the crowd. Reporters from around the world, alerted to the event, set up cameras outside the church. Photographers were so excited their eyebrows twitched as they captured every glittering shot.  

Everyone was waiting for the ten o’clock engagement ceremony.  

Reporters and tourists outside the security perimeter used social media to rapidly broadcast live images of the palace online. Although Du Boqin had maintained a low profile throughout his years of service, after news of the engagement broke, tabloid reporters in Condor City managed to snap a photo of Prince Boqin. The image had since gone viral online. Though not very clear, the photo showed a young man in a crisp military uniform, his handsome face sharply defined, his deep-set eyes resolute but devoid of any smile.  

Indeed, he was a rare beauty among men.  

Young people idolized icons, especially a real one—an exceptional Royal Air Force pilot, a senior leader in the Ministry of Defense, a man of great military achievements who had just returned from a bloody campaign.  

Their engagement coincided with Moselan’s Lantern Festival, drawing thousands of tourists and journalists from around the world. The overwhelming coverage delighted the Mo Country Tourism Board to no end.  

According to the official schedule, the couple would first hold a small private engagement ceremony inside the church, attended only by relatives. This part of the ceremony was closed to the public and media, with photos released exclusively by the royal court photographer. Afterward, Lord Boqin Duval, now more commonly referred to by the media as the newly titled Duke of Condor, would ride with his future duchess in a horse-drawn carriage. The grand procession would parade through the park and along the Christ River before returning to the Carla Palace for the king’s luncheon.  

During this route, the public would have the opportunity to catch a glimpse of Lord Duval and his future queen.  

The tree-lined boulevard was newly decorated, with national flags fluttering in the wind. The streets were packed with tourists and locals alike. Children waved small flags and flowers, while men popped champagne bottles, spraying sweet foam. They were already immersed in a festive atmosphere.  

By noon, the King’s Guard and ceremonial band began their march, followed by soldiers in red uniforms riding tall horses. Behind them, a golden carriage drawn by four purebred white horses, led by a royal groom, slowly made its way toward the church.  

The grand doors of St. Paul’s Archbishop Palace opened slowly.  

The sound of camera shutters erupted into chaos as the radiant couple stepped out hand in hand. Jiang Miaoya wore a white suit, her shy face tinged with a blush, her beauty as fragrant as a rose.  

In an instant, all the media lenses focused on the sparkling diamond engagement ring on her ring finger.  

The crowd erupted in cheers.  

The Duke of Condor gently helped his beloved into the carriage before seating himself.  

The procession began to move slowly.  

Du Boqin’s expression remained calm. He wore a navy-blue Air Force ceremonial uniform, its exquisite platinum double-breasted buttons fastened meticulously to the top. Gold braids adorned with several gold medals hung from his shoulders. His slender figure stood tall and straight, his dark eyes occasionally glinting with the sharpness of a blade. His stern face betrayed no joy, but Miaoya played the role of the approachable royal perfectly, waving enthusiastically to the crowd and dutifully fulfilling her role in uniting the people.  

The fresh red uniforms of the guards, the majestic purebred horses, the large contingent of police escorts, and the sea of admiring spectators created a backdrop akin to a magnificent film, showcasing the unparalleled splendor of the couple.  

The crowd surged alongside the carriage.  

Royal guards in black military caps and armed police maintained strict vigilance. The Xiang family residence was located along the tree-lined avenue. As the carriage slowly circled the park, a young man leaned against the balcony of the second floor of the Xiang residence, holding a glass of wine and watching the throngs below with a sneer.  

This was the second son of the Xiang family, dressed in a white silk shirt and brown suspenders, his slicked-back hair gleaming. His handsome face bore a flirtatious smirk. Leaning casually against the railing, he sipped his drink and watched the glittering procession pass by, laughing uproariously. His face was full of malicious glee. How could Du Boqin endure such a circus-like engagement? That girl from the Xiang family was arrogant—she’d give him plenty of trouble in the future.  

The second son of the Xiang family loved spectacle, especially the kind of mindless gawking that came with events like these. He had been standing there, drink in hand, watching intently for quite some time.  

His gaze swept across the crowd, then suddenly he set down his glass, returned indoors to fetch his coat, and headed downstairs.  

After dismissing his driver, Xiang Jia Shang hurried outside.  

Pushing through the crowd, he made his way deeper into the park. Sure enough, he hadn’t been mistaken.  

A girl sat alone on a rickety wooden fence, wearing a loose white shirt. While the crowd around her chased after the carriage, she remained seated, isolated, swaying precariously as the tide of people surged past her.  

Her body was like a small boat adrift in a vast ocean, teetering and on the verge of being swallowed whole. Yet she paid no heed, her entire being focused on the departing procession. Though the crowd had obscured her view, she strained to catch glimpses of the dim golden glow through the gaps. Tears glistened in her eyes, as if she were watching her dreams and hopes drift away.  

Xiang Jia Shang had never seen such an expression on any woman’s face—despair, heartbreak, and love intertwined, forming a torrent of tears.  

The second son of the Xiang family stood transfixed, watching as the girl sobbed silently amidst the jubilant crowd in the municipal square. His heart raced inexplicably.  

Hesitating for a moment, he pushed through the crowd and approached the park fence—but the spot where the girl in white had sat was now empty. She had vanished.  

Xiang Jia Shang shook his head, lingering for a moment in a daze before leaving, feeling strangely bereft.  

That night, nearly every street in Condor City was alive with parties and revelry. Xiang Jia Shang spent some time drinking at a club, but his spirits were low, and he left early.  

Before he reached the door, he spotted a woman staggering drunkenly out of a bar across the street.  

The streets were filled with drunks, and no one paid her any attention.  

Zhen Ning stood on the street, letting the cold wind sober her slightly. She glanced at the chaotic scene before her.  

She walked toward the nearest car, rummaged in her bag, and crouched down, using her large bag to conceal her movements. In just a second or two, the car door opened silently.  

She cracked a faint, silent smile. Apparently, she hadn’t drunk much—her reflexes were still sharp. She climbed into the driver’s seat.  

On the roadside nearby, a man stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her with interest as she unlocked a silver Porsche in just two seconds.  

Xiang Jia Shang looked closer and was thrilled—it was her again, the mysterious woman in white.  

Xiang Jia Shang immediately raised his hand to stop his driver from calling the police, whispering instructions: “Leave her be. Bring another car around.”  

Zhen Ning gripped the steering wheel and drove westward.

She remembered the vast grassland where she could see the low-hanging stars, and behind the viewing platform on the hillside in the western suburbs, there was a mountain path.  

The roads had been congested all the way, but she remained patient.  

Her heart had already turned to ashes. The night was long, and she wasn’t in any hurry. The car turned onto the tree-lined hillside, and finally, the noise around her began to fade.  

The clamor, cheers, screams, and applause that had surrounded her all day gradually disappeared.  

Zhen Ning slowly parked the car on the grass at the edge of the cliff. Her mind felt hazy, but her reflexes still remembered to press the brake pedal.  

She recalled how Du Boqin had driven them here once before. That night, he had been filled with guilt over their past separation.  

In the end, he gently kissed her cheek and held her tightly in his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder and gazed up at the dazzling stars in the night sky above Condor City.  

That broad chest, with its faint scent of cigars mingled with grassy cologne, was the safest and warmest embrace she had ever known in her life.  

Afterward, she always felt cold.  

That bone-deep chill often made her shiver uncontrollably, even under the bright midday sun today, she still trembled with cold.  

Suddenly, the car let out a soft “beep.”  

Zhen Ning turned her head and saw a young man with a charming, flirtatious smile: “Hey, beautiful, how about a drink?”  

The car door was pulled open from the outside.  

Zhen Ning frowned as she looked him over—dressed like a Moselan nobleman, with an air of arrogance.  

Zhen Ning said coldly: “Go away.”  

The second son of the Xiang family smiled innocently: “Miss, this is my car.” Zhen Ning paused, understanding his words: “I’ll return it to you right away.”  

The second son of the Xiang family smiled warmly: “No worries, no worries. I wouldn’t mind giving this car to a beauty like you. On such a fine night, why sit alone in the car? Let’s have a drink.”  

Zhen Ning furrowed her brows.  

Xiang Jiashang carefully observed her face, maintaining a relaxed and cheerful smile: “Beautiful lady…”  

After a moment of thought, Zhen Ning released her grip on the steering wheel.  

Xiang Jiashang steadied the car door for her, and Zhen Ning stumbled out of the car, nearly tripping over her own feet.  

Xiang Jiashang quickly reached out to steady her, his lips brushing lightly against her cheek. Zhen Ning felt a fleeting warmth graze her face as the man steadied her and then let go.  

She looked around. The wilderness stretched far and wide, the evening breeze blew gently, and aside from this inexplicable man beside her, everything else returned to the peaceful tranquility of the world.  

Zhen Ning walked to the edge of the grass and sat down, with Xiang Jiashang sitting beside her.  

After a while, the person next to her suddenly asked: “Are you Du Boqin’s lover?” Zhen Ning abruptly turned to look at him, her eyes as cold as stars.  

Xiang Jiashang teased with a playful laugh: “I saw you on the tree-lined avenue today. The way you looked at him—it was as if you wanted to die for love right then and there.”  

Zhen Ning replied coldly: “You’re mistaken.”  

Xiang Jiashang shrugged and turned back to retrieve a bottle of wine and two glasses from the car: “Don’t be sad. Sleep it off, and tomorrow there will still be tens of thousands of unmarried men waiting for you.”  

Zhen Ning took the glass, and the two drank together. The two bottles of fine wine stored in Xiang Jiashang’s car were quickly emptied, and he had the driver bring more.  

By the end, both were drunk and collapsed onto the grass.  

With blurred, drunken eyes, Xiang Jiashang smiled provocatively: “Don’t you think we should do something else?”  

Zhen Ning glared at him: “Like what?”  

Xiang Jiashang lifted a strand of her hair, his warm breath brushing against her neck. Zhen Ning swiftly countered with a sharp strike.  

Xiang Jiashang didn’t hold back either, deflecting her elbow with his hand. The two tumbled and wrestled on the ground. He didn’t dare use full force, but Zhen Ning, drunk and unable to distinguish right from wrong, delivered real blows. Xiang Jiashang dodged repeatedly, eventually crying out in pain as he was beaten. Exhausted, Zhen Ning finally stopped.  

The first light of dawn appeared on the horizon. Zhen Ning got up unsteadily, intending to leave. Xiang Jiashang, worried, pulled her into the car.  

The driver of the Xiang family drove in front, and Zhen Ning, her face expressionless, said: “Take me to the airport.” As they parted, Xiang Jiashang asked: “Will I see you again?”  

Zhen Ning’s voice was hoarse but resolute: “No, I will never come back to this place.”  

Xiang Jiashang showed a regretful expression: “Alright.”  

He watched her slender figure disappear into the international departure gate.  

Xiang Jiashang hiccupped, walked out of the airport hall, his steps slightly unsteady. A bodyguard approached: “Second Young Master—”  

The second son of the Xiang family grimaced and groaned: “Bring the car over, I can’t walk anymore.”  

His pride in his drinking capacity had reached its limit tonight. That Chinese girl had matched him drink for drink. What kind of sorrows must a young woman bury deep within her heart to be able to drink so much sadness?