Chapter 52
The Iron Throne base, far from falling silent due to the permanent solidification of the Guardian's Heart, instead began to operate at a new rhythm. The loss of mobility meant it was no longer a temporary lair, but a base requiring long-term management. A more everyday pulse, different from the tense wartime rhythm, began to beat within this steel jungle.
In the early morning, the simulated daylight system just casts soft light into the living area corridor.
Wen Ling walked through the somewhat noisy public lounge area. Several young engineers on their shift were gathered around an old entertainment terminal, loudly playing a retro interstellar fighter simulator. Seeing Wen Ling passing by, they stopped slightly to greet her. Wen Ling simply nodded gently, motioning them to continue.
His purpose for this trip was the base's newly built Eco-Circulation Module Maintenance Center. Unlike Ayuan's vibrant private hydroponic garden, this was a larger, more industrialized facility responsible for processing the base's air, water, and some organic waste. Deep green algae churned slowly within the giant transparent pipes, emitting a subtle bubbling sound.
A familiar figure is busy at the control console——
It was Lao Chen, the gray-haired, outspoken engineer on board the Mo Ren.
"Engineer Chen?" Wen Ling was a little surprised. "Why are you here at the base?"
Seeing Wen Ling, Old Chen put down the data tablet in his hand and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Your Highness! This is a transfer order from the Minister. He said the 'Ink Blade' is temporarily unavailable. My old bones are idle on the ship anyway, so why not come here and take care of this business? Alas, this new system has a lot of problems. The algae activity in area B7 has dropped by 0.3%. I suspect it's a shift in the light spectrum, but the precision parts for calibrating the instrument are out of stock in the warehouse."
Wen Ling stepped forward and checked the data stream on the console. "I remember seeing a similar used calibrator at the flea market on Crossroads Station. Perhaps we could try to contact them..."
"Second-hand?" Old Chen's brows knitted together, his expression mirroring the one he'd had when he was maintaining the engine on the Ink Blade. "The circulatory system is the lungs of the base. How can we use second-hand parts with unknown origins?"
"These are extraordinary times, Engineer Chen," Wen Ling explained patiently, her fingertips dialing up several parameters on the console. "We can first compensate for some of the deviations through software algorithms. Meanwhile, we can have Susie see if she can reverse engineer the component's structure so we can replicate it ourselves. In the meantime, if we can find a usable second-hand part for temporary calibration, it's better than a continued decline in system performance."
Old Chen stared at the data for a long while, finally humming reluctantly: "...Your Highness, you will handle the algorithm compensation plan. I'll go find that girl Susie for the reverse engineering. As for the second-hand parts..." He paused and lowered his voice, "...Don't let the minister know that they are second-hand."
Wen Ling smiled slightly: "I understand."
Leaving the maintenance center, Wen Ling went to Lao Lin's workshop. The workshop was perpetually filled with the distinct smell of engine oil, welding, and the lingering heat of metal. Lao Lin was frowning over a complex energy distributor, his hands greasy.
"Master Lin," Wen Ling placed a package of synthetic meat pie wrapped in thermal film, which she had just brought from the kitchen, on a relatively clean workbench. "The head chef said you missed dinner again."
Without even looking up, Lao Lin tapped a nondescript connector on the distributor housing with a wrench. "The third coupling valve has the wrong resonant frequency, and there's a noise. If you have good ears, take a listen."
Wen Ling immediately collected his thoughts, leaned closer, and listened carefully to the almost inaudible vibration sound.
After a moment, he straightened up. "It's harmonic interference caused by the backflow of secondary energy. We can add a damper in the feedback loop."
Old Lin glanced at him with his cloudy eyes. He said nothing, simply picking a suitable component from the pile and handing it to him. Wen Ling deftly took the tools and began disassembling the casing. He performed these tasks with a focus and skill that seemed unbecoming of a royal, his fingers steady and precise.
Old Lin watched his movements and suddenly spoke vaguely, "The disassembly technique has a bit of the 'Dark Fire' style. It doesn't look like the academic style."
Wen Ling paused imperceptibly, his screwdriver steadying itself in his fingertips without making any unnecessary noise. "Dark Fire" was the codename for a special operations unit secretly formed during his father's reign. Specializing in infiltration, sabotage, and asymmetric warfare, its members mastered a unique system of combat and weapon techniques, ruthless and efficient, a stark contrast to the regimented and methodical military orthodoxy. The unit was disbanded after his father's death, and any records of it were deliberately erased.
He continued working, his tone calm and composed, "Master Lin has a good eye. Some skills need to be inherited." He didn't say it explicitly, but the acknowledgment was enough. Old Lin seemed to understand something and stopped asking questions, silently handing over the necessary tools. An unspoken trust, based on a shared secret, was established between the oil and the metal shavings.
When Wen Ling finished dealing with the energy distributor, washed her hands, and came to the medical area, she met Dr. Case who was scolding someone with a stern face.
"I'll say this one last time, Minister Miao Weizhen! Your nerve bundles need rest and regular energy flow, not willpower! If I detect another abnormal peak, I'll force you into sedation. I mean what I say!"
Keith put his hands on his hips and yelled at Miao Weizhen who was sitting on the examination bed.
Miao Weizhen was dressed in dark gray casual clothes. His complexion looked better than a few days ago, but still pale. He listened expressionlessly, his fingers unconsciously twirling his sleeves, a perfunctory gesture of "I know, but I'll dare to do it again next time." When he saw Wen Ling enter, he didn't even glance away.
Wen Ling walked to the bedside and naturally picked up the soothing ointment prepared beside him. Miao Weizhen then tilted his head slightly and glanced at him. Without saying a word, he silently unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and pulled down the collar slightly, revealing the back of his neck and part of his shoulder line.
That is the key area where the neural interface connects to the organism, and it is also one of the places where the pain is most concentrated when he has a headache.
This action itself is a kind of silent trust and acquiescence.
Wen Ling scooped up some ointment, warming it with his fingertips as he gently pressed it against the cold skin. He could feel Miao Weizhen's body tense momentarily, then slowly relax under his steady pressure. The ointment, with its cool herbal scent, melted under Wen Ling's fingertips, delicately seeping into the skin.
The medical area was very quiet, with only the regular ticking of instruments and the occasional sound of "Big Light" Case flipping papers.
"There's more news coming from Saigong," Miao Weizhen suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. He closed his eyes, feeling the perfect pressure on the back of his neck, his voice carrying a subtle hint of relief. "They're willing to provide the coordinates of three hidden resource stars, as well as temporary command of a small escort fleet."
"What are the conditions?" Wen Ling asked, slowly pressing his fingertips along the taut muscle texture.
"Openly support His Highness Wen Ling's right to inherit and ensure Saigong's autonomous status in the future new order." Miao Weizhen paused and added, "They are smart. They know that betting on you is more promising and more popular than betting on a 'traitorous minister' like me."
Wen Ling didn't stop moving, her voice calm: "Without you, I wouldn't be here. We are one."
Miao Weizhen opened his eyes and tilted his head to look at him. From this angle, he could see Wen Ling's drooping, trembling eyelashes, his straight nose, and the pair of eyes that were focused on the skin at the back of his neck. The young man's breath was close, carrying a unique, reassuring sense of cleanliness.
"This kind of defenseless trust is a fatal weakness." Miao Weizhen turned back, closed his eyes again, and said in a cold tone, "Next time when I say something like this, your hand should be on the weapon, not on my neck."
Wen Ling chuckled softly, and deliberately pressed a certain acupoint with her fingertips. "Really? So, how do you feel now, Minister?"
Miao Weizhen groaned, but did not dodge. Instead, he relaxed his neck and gave it to her. The sound escaped from his throat, with a vague hoarseness:
“…My technique has improved.”
That night, the only and smallest observation deck at the base.
The two moons of the abandoned planet hung high, their clear light radiating down. Influenced by the energy field of the Guardian's Heart, the free energy particles in the star debris belt surrounding the base were stimulated, forming dreamlike, slowly flowing multicolored bands of light, like the tranquil yet brilliant aurora of the universe.
When Wen Ling arrived, Miao Weizhen was already there. He stood with his hands behind his back, his posture erect, staring out the window. He didn't know how long he had been there. He didn't turn around when he heard footsteps.
Wen Ling walked up to him, standing a fist's distance away, and looked at the magnificent star stream side by side with him.
"Sometimes I think it's not bad to just watch it like this." Wen Ling said softly, his eyes following a winding purple light band.
"A short-lived illusion." Miao Weizhen's voice was low and without any ups and downs.
"Even if it's an illusion, it's good." Wen Ling turned her head and looked at his stern profile. "Miao Weizhen, we don't need to live on the battlefield forever."
Miao Weizhen finally turned his head and met his gaze. Amidst the halo of starry sky, Wen Ling's eyes, like two tranquil emerald lakes, reflected his figure clearly. He didn't respond to Wen Ling's words. Instead, he reached out, not to touch, but to grasp Wen Ling's lower back, drawing her unquestionably toward him, closing the distance to his punch.
The two of them were instantly close, and Wen Ling could even feel the warmth and firm muscle lines coming from under his uniform. Miao Weizhen lowered his head, his forehead almost touching his, their breaths blending.
"Remember this feeling," Miao Weizhen said in a low voice, with an unquestionable strength and a hint of hidden possessiveness. "The illusion that allows you to relax is often the most dangerous. And the only one who can stand here and share this illusion with you is me."
Wen Ling didn't struggle. Instead, she placed her hand on his arm and looked up at him. Her green eyes shone with a hint of provocation, yet also with complete trust. "I couldn't ask for more."
They stopped talking, maintaining this almost intimate, almost ambiguous posture, gazing out the window at the fleeting yet real tranquility of the starry sky that existed because of them. The shadow of war had not yet faded, but at this moment, the night and the stars of this star port belonged only to them.
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