FM - 9

Chapter 09: Heaven Protects Moselan

From the plane, the northern intercity highways stretched across the land in winding paths. Sections along the coastal defense had been completely destroyed. The snow on the ground mixed with black soil, appearing dirty. On the opposite shore of North Cheli Island, a large area of collapsed houses marked where the shells had struck. Thick smoke still billowed from the gas station. Across the vast expanse, almost no living beings could be seen. On the Moselan side of the coast, government trucks were transporting fishermen who needed to evacuate to temporary shelters. 

Suddenly, Moselan Air Force planes appeared in the distance, one after another, their roar slicing through the sky. 

In the far distance, a military runway extended to the horizon. The silhouette of soldiers flashed momentarily atop the towering radar tower. 

When the Ministry of Defense’s special aircraft slowly landed on the runway at the North Cheli military base, the first batch of reconnaissance planes from North Cheli Island had already returned ten minutes earlier. 

Du Boqin issued his first order aboard the plane: the Moselan Royal Air Force’s aerial reconnaissance team was to re-survey the combat terrain of Leon’s armed forces along the entire North Cheli coastal defense line. 

As Du Boqin stepped off the boarding stairs, the pilots who had just completed their reconnaissance missions and landed saw him. Their eyes lit up, and they immediately stood at attention on the runway, saluting crisply: “Commander!” 

Du Boqin paused for a moment in front of the cabin, nodding slightly to acknowledge his subordinates. He was known for his strictness in the military, but that did not diminish the admiration of the younger generation. He was the pride of the Moselan Air Force. Even though he had been promoted to Danguang Tower years ago, he still commanded great respect in the military. Surrounded by his security detail, he disembarked from the plane. Du Boqin walked forward to shake hands with the pilots. More pilots gathered around. Many of the Silver Wing cadets had studied at the Aerospace Technology Institute funded by the Du family, growing into pillars of the military, and held deep affection for Du Boqin. 

At this moment, the captain of the Silver Wing—General Fang Yu of the Moselan Air Force—stepped forward to relieve him of the crowd. The group of pilots dispersed to rest, and Du Boqin, accompanied by Rear Admiral Keith, proceeded directly to the combat command center. 

The communications soldier standing like a spear at the entrance of the general staff room instantly straightened his body upon seeing them. His boots clicked sharply as he delivered a standard salute. 

With the commander overseeing operations, morale soared. The head of the command center quickly reported the results of the reconnaissance mission. The Moselan reconnaissance planes had successfully monitored the island’s command communication equipment and basic infrastructure, including an oil refinery and a power plant. On their return, they discovered several unmarked military outposts. 

---

Day Three of the North Cheli Incident 

Moselan’s air force finally emerged with lightning speed. The elite Silver Wing unit of the Moselan Royal Air Force was ordered to carry out aerial missions. At 4:10 AM, ten fighter jets and bombers from the Zero-Seven Airborne Assault Division took off from the North Cheli military base and arrived over North Cheli Island four minutes and ten seconds later. Their target: Leon’s military bases on the island. 

Under the cover of fighter jets, three bomber squadrons and four assault aircraft squadrons attacked the main island of North Cheli. The enemy retaliated with rocket fire, hitting the wing of one fighter jet. Under the escort of its comrades, the damaged plane crossed the bay and made an emergency landing on the Moselan coast. 

The other bombers began returning one by one. Within five minutes, all aircraft had returned—except for one Y-15 unmanned reconnaissance drone, which was shot down during its return. The rest landed safely. 

By this time, the first faint glow of dawn was breaking in the eastern sky. 

The Moselan navy began blockading all sea routes leading to the North Cheli coast. Cruisers guarded offshore oil rigs, and fishermen’s boats remained docked. The entire North Cheli Island fell silent. 

At 9:40 AM the next morning, Moselan launched its second wave of airstrikes. 

This time, as the Silver Wing flew over, there were hardly any armed forces visible on the ground. Leon’s forces on the island had retreated underground, beginning a desperate last stand. 

That night, news came back that local civilians had been kidnapped by the enemy. Du Boqin swiftly summoned the negotiation experts who had come along and ordered a complete media blackout. 

At 4:00 AM, during a break in the meeting, everyone frantically smoked and drank coffee. 

Du Boqin sat in a temporary rest room, pressing his chest, which felt heavy. His lungs had absorbed too much polluted air, and he couldn’t suppress a bout of coughing. Reaching into his coat pocket for his medication bottle, he swallowed a few pills with warm water. After resting for less than fifteen minutes, he gathered his strength and returned to the conference table. 

On the wall opposite the oval table in the meeting room hung a large military map. On the table was a massive LCD screen connected to the central command office at Danguang Tower in the capital, Kangduo. The war was urgent, and the generals present had not slept for days. The elite officers who had followed the Chief of Defense Staff to the front lines had bloodshot eyes that gleamed like wolves. 

The rapid pace of the war had pushed everyone’s nerves to the breaking point. Every nerve ending was filled with tension and excitement. 

At dawn the next day, Moselan ground forces seized the first stretch of beach on the island. Du Boqin instructed the follow-up troops to move in immediately. The decisive land battle would begin today. The command center’s objective was clear: the Moselan Royal Air Force, in coordination with ground forces, launched Operation “Decapitation” at dawn. Under the cover of airstrikes, the Moselan Navy’s special operations forces would launch a dense barrage of cruise missiles and precision-guided high-explosive bombs from both sea and air, vowing to seize North Cheli Island within twenty-four hours. 

Intense artillery fire thundered throughout the morning. 

When daylight fully broke, a drizzle began, washing away the smell of gunpowder along the coast. 

In the temporary command office at the base across the coastline, intelligence reports from the frontlines streamed in densely. 

A duty officer rushed in. 

An urgent document from the Director of National Intelligence, James, was delivered directly into Du Boqin’s hands. 

Du Boqin opened it, glanced through it, and passed it to Brigadier General Keith of the Special Operations Command beside him. 

The man with a neatly trimmed black mustache took it, scanned it, flipped through a few pages, then suddenly slammed his hand on the table. His briarwood pipe clattered against the glass surface with a loud bang. Keith waved his hand and exclaimed: “Heaven protect Moselan!” 

The secretary of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and the National Security Advisor from the Prime Minister’s residence hurriedly leaned over to take a look. 

At 8:09 AM that morning, Moselan Intelligence intercepted a signal sent by enemy forces on the island to a fishing boat in nearby international waters. After decryption and analysis, intelligence revealed the location of the transmission: a hidden rock cave on the island at 37°N, 127°E, where Leon, the leader of the armed forces, was hiding. 

The command centers in North Cheli and the capital quickly adjusted their operational plans. 

At 8:35 AM, the Joint Chiefs of Staff ordered a delay in the ground offensive. After a fifteen-minute emergency meeting, all parties weighed the possible reactions of North Cheli’s mainland. 

At 9:00 AM, after consulting with the capital, Commander Du Weier issued the final order: eliminate the target directly. 

On the vast, endless sea, gray-blue waves surged violently. 

The roar of propellers gradually faded as three helicopters, escorted by cruisers, moved farther and farther from the mainland’s coastline, disappearing into the thick spring mist. 

Forty minutes earlier, a highly equipped special forces unit had rapidly assembled in the hangar. 

This mysterious unit, composed of twenty soldiers selected from the most elite combat forces, was about to depart. Even as they boarded the aircraft at the last moment, the soldiers still did not know the nature of their mission. 

Not far to the north, Moselan’s ocean-going warships were ferrying ground troops to the beaches on the opposite shore. According to the plan, the main force of the Moselan army would land on the rocky shores of the northern flank. 

Among his guards, Kong Wei’s naval special operations unit was dispatched as the second wave for island occupation missions. 

To the south, on the vast, gray-blue sea, Moselan’s white naval escort fleet was escorting local fishing boats away from the island. 

Du Boqin held a cigarette between his fingers, the other hand in his military coat pocket, taking a deep breath. 

The fresh sea breeze carried a salty chill, penetrating deep into his lungs. He couldn’t suppress a low cough. 

He tossed the half-smoked cigar in his hand, crushing the ember with his black military boot. 

It had been nearly two sleepless days. Bloodshot eyes betrayed his exhaustion, forcing him to rely on smoking to stay alert. 

Not far behind Du Boqin stood his guard unit, silent and straight as shadows. 

---

Temporary Military Base Command Center 

Keith, dressed in Marine Corps combat gear, bit on his pipe. His tall, imposing figure paced around the table like a moving wall. 

The secretary nervously checked his watch repeatedly. 

Several senior generals gathered by the window, smoking. 

Du Boqin sat at the desk, his handsome profile expressionless, as the secretary assisted him in handling official correspondence. 

An hour and twenty minutes passed. The satellite phone in the room suddenly rang loudly. 

The secretary, who had been attentively waiting, jumped like a startled rabbit, nearly knocking over his chair. 

He quickly answered, spoke briefly, and then respectfully handed the phone to Du Boqin. Du Boqin took it and said: “It’s me.” 

Everyone in the room held their breath, standing motionless. The smoke from cigars in the ashtray rose in thin, straight lines. 

Du Boqin furrowed his brow as he listened, responding firmly and briefly: “Mm, good work.” 

He then asked: “Any casualties on our side?” 

His expression remained stern and cold, showing no signs of relief. 

Du Boqin’s voice was as hard as iron: “Contact the ground forces. Pursue in different directions according to the plan. Rendezvous with U18 in ten minutes. The assault team will return immediately.” 

Du Boqin handed the phone to a nearby soldier and turned around. Dozens of pairs of eyes in the room were fixed on him. 

This youngest-ever Chief of Staff in Moselan history, the military genius who had elevated Moselan’s air defense to unprecedented heights, and the controversial figure whose iron-fisted management style repeatedly thrust him into the spotlight, this man who bore the burden of defending national dignity and royal honor for the otherwise lackadaisical royal family, finally looked up at his subordinates. His voice was hoarse, carrying his usual elegance and aloofness: “Gentlemen, we have succeeded!” 

A roar of cheers erupted in the room. Keith exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. 

The communications soldier took back Du Boqin’s phone and continued recording detailed battle reports. Du Boqin quietly instructed the secretary beside him: “Encrypt and transmit back to the capital.” Ten minutes later, Prime Minister Major called him on the satellite phone. 

News of Leon’s death spread rapidly across the island. The ground forces hired by North Cheli quickly surrendered, and Leon’s loyal armed forces began to collapse and flee. 

Moselan ground troops landed on the island, swiftly occupying a seaside vacation villa as the forward command post and establishing communication with the Cheli military base on the opposite shore. 

The cooks sang while banging pots in the kitchen. Sailors threw their hats on the deck. The rear area of the Cheli military base erupted in jubilation. 

The spokesperson for the Ministry of Defense at Danguang Tower issued a media statement, declaring the operation a great and satisfying victory for the forces of peace and democracy. 

---

Rest Room at the Cheli Military Base 

After temporarily transferring command to Rear Admiral Keith, Du Boqin returned to the rest room, suppressing his coughs behind his hand. 

Head of Security Yi She approached quietly: “Your Highness?” 

Du Boqin struggled to stand, his body swaying slightly. His hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, his knuckles turning white. 

Yi She signaled subtly to the nearby guard, who rose and quietly left the room. Another guard immediately closed the door. 

Du Boqin’s lips were pale, and despite resting for a while, the sharp pain in his chest showed no sign of abating. His breathing grew more rapid, and his face turned deathly pale. 

His personal physician was summoned in. After a glance, the doctor immediately said: “Your Highness, you need treatment.” 

Du Boqin took a deep breath and forced himself toward the door. 

Guards escorted him out of the side door of the rest room and onto the plane that had brought him. As soon as Du Boqin entered the rest cabin, the guards helped him lie down on the sofa. 

The doctor busied himself checking his pulse and heart rate, then adjusted the oxygen flow data. 

Lying on the sofa, Du Boqin’s vision blurred with black fog, and the bright fluorescent lights on the cabin ceiling gradually faded. 

The interior of the aircraft, spanning thousands of square meters, was equipped with advanced electronic countermeasure systems, highly secure anti-counterfeiting systems, pulse-frequency radio communication devices, directed-energy weapon radars, airborne refueling stations, ten senior pilots, and nineteen secure communication lines without range restrictions. This special aircraft of the Moselan Ministry of Defense, hailed as the “Danguang Tower in the sky,” featured ministerial-level accommodations that were nothing short of luxurious—leather seats, constant temperature control, and a fully equipped medical center. 

Yet none of this could alleviate the decline of his body or his discomfort. After more than forty hours of sleepless, high-intensity mental exertion, his physical limits had been pushed to the brink. 

The security detail stood grim-faced at the entrance of the main rest cabin. 

Du Boqin could only lie semi-reclined, coughing so violently he nearly lost his breath.

Du Boqin picked up the phone and dialed Feng Rong. The line was busy. 

To ensure Kong Wei’s safety, he had minimized the number of people aware of the operation, ensuring its success. Yet, something had gone wrong. 

Hearing the continued busy tone, Du Boqin straightened his body and summoned the guard outside the door. His voice was low but sharp: “Inform Sipuyue to hold his position until I arrive.” One guard went to make the call. 

The others remained standing by: “Notify the temporary command center on the island. Arrange a vehicle in twenty minutes. The mission is confidential.” 

Du Boqin’s breathing grew uneven again: “Notify the base to prepare a helicopter. Inform radar navigation—we are taking off immediately.” 

When the helicopter landed on an open field on North Cheli Island, a car dispatched from the temporary command center was already waiting. 

Four tall, black-clad men carrying metal briefcases escorted Du Boqin into the car. The driver quickly started the engine. 

Along the way, waves crashed against the shore, splashing seawater onto the gravel road. Amidst the chaos of war, the cries of seagulls had faded into the distance. From the western side of the island came the sounds of artillery fire and machine gun bursts. 

Some sporadic skirmishes were still ongoing. 

According to the original plan, Kong Wei, under Sipuyue’s cover, would leave amidst the chaos of the frontlines. Sipuyue replaced Kong Wei’s uniform with that of a fallen soldier, took his dog tags, and filed a casualty report. 

When Du Boqin first arrived on North Cheli Island, he personally met with Sipuyue. This loyal soldier, trained at Fanlu Estate, was a piece Du Boqin had placed within the military, serving as an ordinary Marine Corps soldier under Keith. To some extent, he was even Du Boqin’s counter-surveillance operative. Du Boqin had personally given him orders: spare no effort to ensure the target’s departure. 

Sipuyue’s methods were clean and efficient. He escorted Kong Wei toward the dock. Everything went smoothly until the final step—facing the vast ocean, their steps had to halt. 

The guards drove the military jeep along the coastal road. Gray-blue waves crashed against the rocks, sending large foam splashing onto the car windows. The road was in disrepair, filled with sand, stones, and mud. The car bounced violently, making it difficult for Du Boqin to sit upright. A handkerchief pressed to his lips, he coughed up specks of blood. 

His old lung injury flared up, causing intermittent coughing. The violent shaking of the car forced him to brace himself just to stay seated. 

The car gradually slowed. In the distance, Du Boqin scanned below and quickly spotted Kong Wei, dressed in a fisherman’s gray cloth shirt, walking alone around the dock, trying to remain inconspicuous while glancing around. 

Around the dock were patrolling Moselan soldiers. 

Kong Wei pressed the gun hidden in his chest and lowered his hat brim, surveying the surroundings. 

With no sign of the boat sent by the Feng family, Kong Wei had to think of another way. The dock was crowded with fleeing fishermen, chaotic and noisy. Fishermen were loading boxes onto boats, cramming them full. No one would willingly give up a spot for a stranger. Knowing the risks the Feng family had taken to arrange his retreat, Kong Wei understood he couldn’t act rashly unless absolutely necessary. 

The guards followed Kong Wei from a distance, parking the car as safely as possible near the sea dike. Du Boqin’s car was stocked with a large amount of cash. Regardless of why the Feng family hadn’t contacted Kong Wei, delaying too long could lead to complications, especially in the current chaotic situation. Extreme measures were needed—to secure a berth on a fisherman’s boat and get him out of Moselan waters as soon as possible. 

A guard, now in civilian clothes, got out of the car with the briefcase, slowly weaving through the crowd, cautiously looking around, and gradually approaching Kong Wei. 

It didn’t take long for Kong Wei to notice the man. He quickly recognized him as one of Head Guard Yi She’s subordinates. 

Du Boqin watched as the two men approached, exchanged a few words in the crowd, then moved closer to the fishing boats at the dock, avoiding patrolling soldiers, searching for someone to negotiate with. 

Both men had to be extra cautious. In this chaotic place, such a large amount of cash could spark a riot. 

Du Boqin stood by the car, looking down from the sea dike. 

At that moment, another group of fleeing fishermen surged onto the dock. Among them was a man wearing a straw raincoat, his skin dark, dressed like an ordinary fisherman. As he passed a fishing boat, he suddenly grabbed Kong Wei’s arm. 

The two guards by the shore instantly tensed, quickly gripping their guns. Du Boqin straightened his body. 

Fortunately, the next moment, the stranger lifted his hat to show Kong Wei something. After a glance, Kong Wei signaled to the guards. The three exchanged a few words, then the guard stepped aside to make a call. 

Yi She received the call. 

The guard reported to Yi She: “Sir, the contact has appeared but says he has urgent matters to discuss with His Highness in person.” 

“Who is it?” 

“Mr. Feng Ze.” 

Yi She looked at Du Boqin questioningly. Du Boqin nodded: “Let him come.” 

Feng Ze, wearing the fisherman’s black straw raincoat, followed the guard, walking calmly toward the sea dike. When he was less than ten meters away from Du Boqin, his hand moved upward. 

It was but a flash of an instant. 

Suddenly, Du Boqin shouted hoarsely: “Get down!” Two guards instantly leapt in front of him. Yi She rolled on the ground, quickly drawing his gun to return fire. 

Gunfire erupted all around. Blood from the wounded guards soaked the sand beneath them. 

Du Boqin roared: “Leave one alive!” 

Before his words faded, a bullet traced a perfect arc in the air, striking the attacker’s head. Brain matter and skull fragments splattered in the air as the man convulsed and collapsed. 

Sipuyue lay prone by the cannon, half-closing his eyes, blowing the dust off his sniper rifle. 

The patrol team on the coast was alerted, shouting to each other and rushing toward the shore. 

Du Boqin shifted his gaze, suddenly pushing the guard aside. He abruptly raised his gun, firing a burst at the base of the sea dike, sending mud flying. 

Kong Wei was climbing frantically toward the dike. 

He looked up, seeing the man standing proudly on the shore, his eyes fierce. Realizing the message, Kong Wei clenched his teeth so hard they nearly shattered, trembling as he slowly backed away, tears of blood filling his eyes. 

After retreating two steps, Kong Wei glanced at the still-twitching body on the dike, let out a wail, and lunged forward again. 

Du Boqin fired again, a row of bullets bursting forth, landing at Kong Wei’s feet, rapid and violent. 

Seeing Du Boqin’s cold, steely gaze, Kong Wei finally turned and staggered back toward the dock. 

Du Boqin pushed the guard aside, jumped into a flower bed, and brushed the mud off the assassin’s face. He examined the man’s features, pressing his hand against the bleeding wound on his head. Though still warm, the body was already lifeless. 

Feng Ze’s straw raincoat was torn to shreds. Du Boqin lifted his head from the muddy sea dike, barely managing to close his eyes. 

---

Kangduo Fierd Cornwall International Airport 

A massive airborne command aircraft, painted blue and white, bore a golden eagle emblem on its tail, gleaming in the sunlight. The Ministry of Defense’s special plane was parked on the tarmac. 

Today at noon, Lord Du Weier returned to the capital, Kangduo, from North Cheli Island. 

With the end of the North Cheli campaign, Moselan forces occupied the entire island, reviewed the troops, and held a simple flag-raising ceremony at the temporary military command center on the island. 

The next afternoon at 3 PM, Moselan’s escort team transported the remaining thirty-odd children from the fishermen’s community school that had been attacked to an ocean-going warship. They would return to their homeland to receive assistance and treatment. 

As the children left, the schoolyard flag was at half-mast. The campus, ravaged by war and artillery, was desolate. 

On one side were the iron-willed heroic soldiers; on the other, innocent, fragile children. The three branches of the military stood solemn, waves crashing against the shore, and the world fell silent. 

Tears welled up in the children’s clear eyes. 

This televised scene brought countless Moselans to tears. 

The North Cheli campaign ended successfully. Moselan reclaimed all oil wells on the island, restored port traffic, detained Leon’s terrorist prisoners at the Kiel naval base, and maintained post-war reconstruction order along the coastline. 

On April 4th, the Moselan National Broadcasting Company released a documentary via MBC’s Channel 1, Channel 4, Congressional Channel, News Channel, and Global Channel, detailing the history of this island, formerly known as “Kuilin,” which had been colonized and occupied for over forty years before being controlled by Leon’s armed forces. This isolated island, lost to the motherland, was finally returning home. 

On April 5th at noon, Prime Minister Major announced the lifting of the national emergency at No. 1 Municipal Avenue. 

Guards escorted Du Boqin onto the special plane back to Kangduo. 

Major sent an assistant to wait at the tarmac to urgently discuss negotiation matters. Knowing he lacked the energy to handle official duties, Du Boqin instructed Xie Zi, who had arrived early, to handle the reception. 

The driver took him back to Fanlu. 

As the car descended from the airport highway, the scenery grew increasingly familiar. He was inching closer to Fanlu Estate, once his warmest home, his most peaceful haven, and his final paradise. 

He had never felt more tormented in his life. Even when his father passed away and he returned in the middle of the night, feeling the vast emptiness of the world with his grieving mother and younger siblings beside him, despite the immense sorrow in his heart, his father’s final instructions still echoed in his ears. He knew the heavy responsibility on his shoulders, and his heart was filled with a sense of grandeur and inspiration. 

Now, over a decade later, his father’s last wish had been fulfilled, yet he felt no relief, knowing there might no longer be a place for him to rest. 

A raging fire of despair burned within him, reducing him to ashes. 

When he left, she had tidied his clothes, gently reminded him, held his hand, kissed him—her fingers warm and soft. Now, returning, he could only continue falling into a hopeless abyss. 

He had truly liked someone for the first time in his twenties—a pure, bright girl. After circling the world, he never expected to meet her again. 

He once thought himself lucky. Zhen Ning was pregnant with his twins. 

He had thought that after this busy period, he could focus on accompanying her as they awaited the birth of their children. But no matter how fiercely he fought fate, in the end, he was just an ordinary mortal with flesh and blood. 

The car stopped at the garden path in front of the mansion. Si San led the servants in a line, the maids curtsying with excitement evident on their faces. 

Upon arriving home, Du Boqin went straight to the study to lie down. 

Si San entered to inform him that Zhen Ning didn’t know he had returned early and was out today. She had already been notified. 

Du Boqin’s voice was calm but weak: “When Zhen Ning returns, let her in.” 

Du Boqin lay in the lounge of the study. After the army had taken over the island, he was merely holding on by sheer willpower, unable to close his eyes for days and nights on end. Even now, lying in the study’s lounge, sleep eluded him. His breathing was labored, and occasionally his heart palpitated violently. Waves of heat surged through his chest, accompanied by nausea and a pervasive discomfort that made every bone in his body ache. 

The doctor had been turned away—he refused to see anyone. His mind was in turmoil, and he felt weary of the elaborate treatments. 

Following his orders, the guards kept the door tightly secured, allowing him some solitude. 

Finally, Si San entered: “Your Highness?” 

Though physically weak and drained, Du Boqin’s mind remained unusually clear. Si San bowed and reported: “Miss Shu is preparing to return.” 

Du Boqin froze for a few seconds, leaning against the headboard with his eyes half-closed, absentmindedly buttoning up his shirt—a loose gray-blue plaid shirt that hung loosely on his emaciated frame. 

Si San gently urged: “Please rest, Your Highness. Miss Shu is not an outsider.” Du Boqin, still with his eyes closed, shook his head while gripping the edge of the bed. 

Si San then summoned Du Boqin’s personal attendant. Supporting himself on Si San’s arm, Du Boqin stood up. The attendant helped him dress, kneeling to carefully button up a thick cashmere sweater before bowing respectfully and leaving the room. 

After a few coughs, Du Boqin spoke in a faint but calm voice: “Help me to the sofa. When Zhen Ning returns, let her come in directly.” 

Si San slowly helped him walk out of the lounge, past the conference room, and toward the final steps. By then, Du Boqin had no strength left to support himself. He stumbled, nearly falling. 

Si San knelt before him, waiting patiently until his coughing subsided and his breathing steadied. Then, he quietly poured a glass of warm water and placed it beside him before slipping out of the room. 

Du Boqin leaned back on the sofa, his eyes closed. In his daze, he heard footsteps approach. Then, a soft hand touched his forehead. She carried the delicate scent of flowers. Opening his eyes, Du Boqin saw only a blurred, charming figure before him. 

Zhen Ning lowered her head to look at his face and couldn’t help but take a deep breath. In such a short time, he had grown so thin that his cheeks were pale and sunken. 

Worried, she asked: “Are you tired? You have a fever.” Du Boqin took her hand and kissed it. 

His lips were dry and peeling from the fever. Zhen Ning picked up the glass of warm water beside him, and Du Boqin drank a few sips from her hands before shaking his head. 

Zhen Ning couldn’t shake her unease: “Why won’t you let the doctor in?” 

Du Boqin’s voice was faint, tinged with a hint of pleading: “Not yet. Just sit with me for a while.” 

Zhen Ning glanced at him but complied, sitting on the sofa and letting him lean comfortably into her embrace. 

“Didn’t you rest well?” 

“It’s fine.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

“Fine.” 

Du Boqin then asked: “How are the babies?” 

A gentle smile softened Zhen Ning’s face: “I’ve been keeping up with my checkups. They’re all fine.” 

Du Boqin propped himself up slightly and carefully touched her belly. 

With one hand supporting himself on the back of the sofa and the other tenderly caressing her cheek, the depth of his feelings was unmistakable. 

Finally, a sense of unease began to creep into Zhen Ning’s heart: “Boqin… Did everything go smoothly?” 

Du Boqin hesitated for a few seconds, almost afraid to meet her gaze. He simply nodded without answering her question, then leaned down to kiss her deeply. 

Zhen Ning could barely breathe as Du Boqin held her tightly, with such intensity and fervor that it felt as though he wanted to embed her into his very being. 

Holding onto his shoulders, Zhen Ning felt a chilling sensation creep up her spine. Finally steadying herself, she gripped his shoulders firmly, looked directly into his face, and asked with a terrifying calmness: “What happened?”

Du Boqin kept his head down, avoiding her gaze. 

A foreboding sense of dread rose in Zhen Ning’s heart. She slowly regulated her breathing, adjusting her posture to remain calm. Her voice was steady: “What happened?” 

Finally, Du Boqin looked up at her: “There was an accident on North Cheli Island.” Zhen Ning pressed further: “What happened?” 

Du Boqin could no longer hide the truth: “Feng Ze had an accident.” Zhen Ning froze: “My third brother?” 

In that moment, all Du Boqin could focus on was carefully holding her shoulders, afraid she might hurt herself. 

Zhen Ning repeated almost unconsciously: “Feng Ze? My third brother? What happened?” 

Du Boqin’s face was pale, his expression eerily calm, bordering on numbness: “He entered the battlefield and was shot by the military.” 

Zhen Ning’s sharp instincts were terrifying: “The military? Whose military? Yours?” Du Boqin closed his eyes and replied: “My guards.” 

For a moment, Zhen Ning felt dizzy. Her fingers gripped his arm so tightly they nearly left a bloody mark: “So you were there?” 

Du Boqin nodded. 

Zhen Ning’s mind was already in chaos, her words tumbling out incoherently: “Why did your men kill him? Did you send him for medical treatment? Where is he? Is he in the hospital? Can he still be saved?” Du Boqin pressed her hands firmly: “He’s dead.” 

The room fell into an abrupt silence. 

Zhen Ning was completely stunned, murmuring: “Where is his body?” 

Du Boqin held her hand tightly: “I’ve arranged for his body to be sent back to the capital. Your eldest brother will come.” 

Zhen Ning struggled to process his words: “His body?” Du Boqin whispered softly: “I’m sorry.” 

Suddenly, Zhen Ning violently shoved his hand away, knocking over a set of coffee cups on the table, shattering them into pieces: “Why didn’t you stop them? You were there, and your guards killed him?” 

Du Boqin stammered: “It all happened too suddenly.” 

Regret filled his voice: “I gave the order—to ensure Kong Wei’s departure, no matter the circumstances—” 

He couldn’t suppress a fit of coughing. One of his own guards had died, and Yi She was still lying in the hospital. 

But the man was already dead. No words could change that now. He closed his mouth. 

Zhen Ning suddenly stood up and rushed toward the door, screaming: “I want to see him!” Suddenly, her throat spasmed, her body went limp, and she collapsed unconscious. 

Du Boqin’s heart leapt: “Zhen Ning!” 

In his haste, he caught her, but his arms were too weak to hold her weight. He knelt on the carpet with her in his arms, finally calling out: “Someone, come!” 

Si San, who had been standing guard outside the door, immediately burst in and hurried over to help. 

With Du Boqin weakened by illness, he couldn’t support Zhen Ning’s increasingly heavy body. The guards came in to lift her up. 

Si San helped Du Boqin sit up. His eyes closed as he endured the pain, pressing his chest while coughing lowly. His consciousness began to fade. In his last moments of clarity, he remembered only the scent of her—now gone from his arms. 

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Feng Rong’s car arrived at Fanlu Estate late at night. 

Zhen Ning was in her room, closely guarded by a doctor and three nurses. In truth, it wasn’t necessary; since the afternoon, she had sat motionless for nearly ten hours, except for making one phone call to her eldest brother. 

When she finally saw her eldest brother, she looked up, tears streaming down her face. 

Feng Rong embraced her and walked her downstairs. Before leaving, he said to Si San: “I won’t see Mr. Du. Zhen Ning will temporarily return with me. Please inform him.” 

Everyone at Fanlu Estate knew something grave had occurred. The staff moved about quietly, treading cautiously as if walking on thin ice. 

Si San’s eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion. Du Boqin was still unconscious in his room. After fainting in the study in the afternoon, he had briefly woken up once to ask about Zhen Ning’s condition. Despite the doctors’ protests, he had intended to go upstairs to see her, but Xie Zi and others had been waiting outside for hours. 

The negotiations regarding the peace talks with North Cheli were urgent. Xie Zi had spent the afternoon in meetings at the Prime Minister’s residence and returned to the Ministry of Defense with important documents requiring Du Boqin’s approval. With no choice, Du Boqin summoned his subordinates for a brief meeting despite his frail health. 

The doctor had added sedatives to his medication. By the time Feng Rong arrived, Du Boqin was asleep—this was the result of a discussion between Si San and the doctor. Allowing him to witness Zhen Ning being taken away in his current state would have been too cruel. 

Si San escorted Feng Rong out. 

At that moment, the housekeeper rushed out of the house, holding Zhen Ning’s coat: “Miss Shu, the fog is thick outside…” 

Feng Rong paused briefly. 

The housekeeper draped the coat over Zhen Ning, carefully tucking in the edges, but her eyes welled up with tears again. 

Zhen Ning remained quietly nestled in her eldest brother’s arms, her eyes vacant, as if seeing nothing. 

Feng Rong nodded in thanks and turned to walk down the steps. 

Feng Rong had brought only a driver. He placed Zhen Ning in the back seat, then got in himself. The car slowly drove out of Fanlu Estate. 

Si San stood on the veranda, watching until the car disappeared down the mountain road. 

The half-mountain was shrouded in dense fog, flashes of lightning illuminating the eastern horizon. The humid spring mist obscured the breathtaking scenery. 

Watching the car disappear into the distance, Si San finally lowered his eyes silently and returned to the house. 

The car sped through Kangduo’s streets. Spring thunder rumbled in the night sky. 

At the end of the road, fiery streaks of lightning illuminated the overcast sky. 

With the war just ending and the weather so terrible, there were few vehicles on the capital’s roads. 

The car exited the main urban area, and the scenery gradually changed. The towering skyscrapers were left behind as the car ascended a gentle slope. Along the way, fields of flowers and villas flashed by in the darkness. 

Still, silent bolts of lightning lit up the horizon. They were now in the outskirts of Kangduo. 

The car drove for another half hour before stopping in an open field halfway up the mountain. The area was desolate, with a reservoir at the end of the valley—an uninhabited place. Looking back from the valley, Kangduo’s city lights still shimmered brightly. 

In the city center, a towering Ferris wheel stood against the dark clouds, glowing with colorful lights in the night. 

On the open field, a white Iveco van was parked. 

From afar, the vehicle approached. Only after recognizing the passengers did the driver’s door open, and two burly men in black jumped out—guards from the Feng family. 

Inside the car, Feng Rong spoke to Zhen Ning: “Sister, I must leave first. It’s not safe for you to travel long distances in your condition. Secretary Fang will accompany you on a flight home. The tickets are ready, and the car will take you to the airport.” 

Zhen Ning remained motionless, sitting silently. 

Feng Rong stroked her cheek: “Brother is getting out now. From here, it’s only a twenty-minute drive to the airport.” 

He reassured her: “Take care of yourself. Your second brother is waiting for you at the airport. I promise you’ll see him the moment you land, alright?” 

Zhen Ning’s heart trembled, and she began to cry again. 

With time pressing, Feng Rong patted Secretary Fang in front of the car, then opened the door and stepped out. 

It was late spring, early summer, yet the night air was still cold. Zhen Ning, wrapped in a sweater, shivered uncontrollably. As Feng Rong opened the door, she glanced at the long business van in the open field and suddenly understood everything. 

She grabbed her brother’s arm: “Is Third Brother inside?” Feng Rong hesitated, holding her: “Sister—” 

Zhen Ning tried to follow him out of the car. 

Feng Rong refused: “Go back and sit.” 

Zhen Ning stubbornly pried his hand off, crying and pleading: “Let me see him!” 

Feng Rong couldn’t resist her. Stumbling, Zhen Ning ran over. The guards opened the rear compartment door for her. The interior was vast and icy cold. Almost immediately, Zhen Ning saw the man lying in the coffin. 

All movement stopped instantly. 

Feng Rong squeezed her hand and stepped back. 

A small light illuminated the rear compartment. Feng Ze lay on a clean blanket, covered with a thin sheet. 

Zhen Ning knelt beside him, pulling back the sheet to reveal a familiar face. 

Now, strangely, she felt unusually calm. Gently, she touched his hand. His skin was still smooth but cold and stiff. Zhen Ning held his hand and softly called: “Third Brother—” 

Her fingers carefully traced every inch of his face. They had cleaned his face meticulously. 

His handsome features, thick eyebrows, and perpetually smiling lips… now pale and lifeless. 

Zhen Ning noticed a hole on the right side of his head, a small patch of hair burned black. She touched his hair, feeling the dried blood beneath his scalp. 

For a long time, she caressed this cold body. 

This was the man who had played with her, grown up with her, and always protected her no matter what trouble she caused. Now, his body remained, but his soul had departed. 

She gazed at his youthful face for a long time until the outside world dissolved into silent stillness. 

Zhen Ning opened the compartment door. The valley was enveloped in endless darkness. A sudden chill ran through her as her keen sense of danger kicked in. 

Two bodyguards in front of her raised their guns, tense and alert. 

In the distance, two cars had silently parked, and a group of shadowy figures stood nearby. 

Lightning still flickered through the clouds. The driver bent down and opened the back door of the car. 

A faint yellow light spilled out, mingling with the lightning. A figure emerged from the darkness. 

Du Boqin wore an ochre shirt and a neatly tailored dark gray coat. 

As always, he was rugged, lean, and strikingly handsome. 

His usually pale and cold face bore the marks of deep exhaustion, but his expression remained calm, his eyes profound like an abyss. 

He exuded the same noble elegance, distant and aloof. A guard helped him out of the car. 

Du Boqin steadied himself with the guard’s assistance, his tall, slender frame even more pronounced in the night breeze. 

Releasing the guard’s hand, he took slow, deliberate steps toward Zhen Ning. She, too, walked toward him, her face expressionless. 

The world seemed frozen in this darkness. 

Finally, thunder rolled above the clouds, the air column glowing white-hot. A deafening roar echoed in the distant sky. 

The valley was filled with people, yet it was so silent that the fall of a single strand of hair could be heard. 

No one dared to breathe. 

Zhen Ning moved faster than him, soon standing directly in front of him. 

Du Boqin took a breath, swaying slightly, but quickly steadied himself with his eyes closed. Zhen Ning’s hand slid down her side, and in the next moment, it pressed against his chest. 

Almost simultaneously, a row of bodyguards behind Du Boqin raised their guns, aiming directly at them. Feng Rong shouted urgently: “Zhen Ning!” 

The cold barrel of a gun pressed against his chest. Du Boqin’s expression remained serene. 

Zhen Ning’s hand was steady, but tears streamed uncontrollably from the corners of her eyes: “Your Highness, we have no future.” 

Du Boqin raised his hand and hung a small oval-shaped piece of metal around her neck. 

Zhen Ning had seen countless times the small metal tag that hung on his chest—his Air Force identification tag, engraved with his initials, service number, blood type, and religion. If he were to die on the battlefield, his comrades would bring it back to his homeland. 

With a hoarse and slow tone, Du Boqin said: “The rest of my life belongs to you. No matter where you are in the world, no matter what kind of life you want to live, I belong to you, to you and our children.” 

Finally, he raised his hand and gently embraced her. 

Zhen Ning caught the faint scent of cigars—rough and sharp—on him. Because he hadn’t smoked during his illness, this familiar aroma had disappeared for a long time. Now, it suddenly returned, indistinguishable between memory and reality. The smell of tobacco mingled with the faint scent of disinfectant, a lingering warmth etched into her very bones. 

Because she was carrying twins, her five-month belly was larger than that of an average pregnant woman. Even in a loose black coat, the noticeable bulge was evident. 

Zhen Ning spoke softly, as if meeting him in a dream: “Why did you come?” The gun barrel remained firmly pressed against his heart. 

Du Boqin’s deep, magnetic voice replied: “Zhen Ning, pull the trigger.” Tears rolled down her cheeks: “Why did you come?” 

Du Boqin tightened his embrace, feeling the swell of her abdomen—their flesh and blood. Zhen Ning’s voice was faint, like a ghost’s whisper: “Why did you come?” 

Du Boqin’s voice was unusually weak: “Zhen Ning, pull the trigger. Otherwise, you won’t be able to leave.” 

A gunshot rang out in the darkness. 

In the thick night, a streak of lightning flashed across the sky. A shadow darted from the branches—it was an owl flapping its wings and flying away. 

The smell of gunpowder drifted in the wind, gradually replaced by the scent of blood. 

In the distance, the guards suddenly knelt, their voices filled with shock and despair: “Your Highness!” 

A blinding bolt of lightning tore across the sky, followed by a thunderous explosion. In the distance, Kangduo City flickered briefly before plunging into complete darkness. 

Not a single spark of light remained in the world. 

Behind them, an entire city had been destroyed in an instant. Feng Rong rushed forward and tightly embraced Zhen Ning. 

Zhen Ning collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. There was no turning back now. She had to leave with him. 

Feng Rong lifted her up, and the guards hurried over to assist. Her arms suddenly felt empty.

The moment Zhen Ning pulled away from Du Boqin’s embrace, the guards swiftly raised their guns, fingers already tightening on the triggers. 

Du Boqin knelt on the ground, his voice cold and commanding as he gritted his teeth: “Let them go!” A guard hurriedly knelt to support him. 

He leaned weakly against the guard’s arm, his dark gray coat stained with a vivid splash of red at the chest. Feng Rong clamped his hand over Zhen Ning’s mouth and quickly dragged her into the car. The bodyguards started the engine, and the hum of the air conditioning system filled the cabin, blending with Zhen Ning’s sobs. The two cars sped off toward the intercity highway on the outskirts of Kangduo, one after the other. 

Before Du Boqin’s eyes, the world began to blur, shadows overlapping in his vision. 

His fingertips felt wet—whether from raindrops or her tears, he could no longer tell. Her crying tore at his heart. 

Zhen Ning rarely cried. She was even stronger than most men. Yet it was him, time and again, who had caused her such pain. 

The pain in his chest slowly faded, replaced by an endless void, as if his heart had been hollowed out completely. 

He raised his head, but all he could see were blurred silhouettes. 

The white car disappeared like a ghost into the pitch-black night. It was a spring evening. 

Through her tears, Zhen Ning saw the city lights of Kangduo flickering in the distance. The streets of Kangduo were quiet, the trees swaying gently, petals of pale pink flowers scattered across the ground. Silent flashes of lightning illuminated the horizon. 

Somewhere in the world, a pair of lovers was parting ways. 

Yet nothing about this moment was unique. Every day, somewhere in the world, people who love each other—or don’t—are separated.