Chapter 61
Amidst a mixture of sorrow and joy, the Iron Throne base slowly regained its pulse. The harbor's maintenance tunnels flickered with welding sparks day and night, like a burning flame for the fallen. The names of the fallen were engraved on a newly constructed memorial wall. Han Zhong, leading all those able to stand, saluted the wall for a final time. The old general's straight back, at that moment, seemed to take on an indelible stoop.
Miao Weizhen awoke after two days in a coma. The moment he opened his eyes, before he could fully regain consciousness, his fingers subconsciously tightened, as if searching for something. It wasn't until he touched the scattered golden hair of Wen Ling, who was lightly sleeping beside him, that his tense nerves relaxed slightly.
Wen Ling woke up immediately and met his deep eyes. His tired face instantly lit up: "Are you awake?" He immediately stood up and wanted to call Dr. Keith, but Miao Weizhen gently pulled his wrist.
"Xinglan..." His voice was dry and hoarse.
Wen Ling immediately placed the consciousness storage unit in his hand and said in a calm tone, "Here it is. Dr. Anthony is trying his best to repair it, but it will take time."
He did not hide the severity of the injury.
Miao Weizhen stroked the cold storage unit, speechless for a long time. He had exhausted all his efforts, even transforming into a demon and entering hell, but all he brought back were the shattered fragments of his sister's soul. This "success" carried an unspeakable heaviness.
"How much did we... pay?" He closed his eyes and asked the second question.
Wen Ling was silent for a moment, then handed him a damage report that didn't conceal the heavy casualties suffered by Han Zhong's fleet. Miao Weizhen glanced at it quickly, his face expressionless, only his jawline tightened slightly. He put the report down and looked at Wen Ling again: "What's the situation at the base?"
"Everything is fine." Wen Ling held his hand. "Ayuan is coordinating logistics, Lao Lin and Lao Chen are leading repairs, Luo Yan has strengthened the internal security, and Dr. Anthony, Susie, and Ye Lan are fully researching consciousness restoration and subsequent optimization of the 'Guardian's Heart'. Everyone... is doing their part."
Miao Weizhen listened, his eyes fixed on Wen Ling's visibly thinner face and the dark circles under his eyes. He knew that during the two days he was unconscious, it was this young man who had shouldered all the responsibility, stabilized the situation, and calmed people's hearts.
He held Wen Ling's hand tightly with his backhand, and said a thousand words, but in the end, it turned into just one sentence: "Thank you for your hard work."
The federal capital planet, Beichen Prefecture.
Qu Beichen looked at the report on the failure of Operation "Forgotten Vortex" on the screen in front of him. His usual smile was gone, and his eyes were sinister. The trap he had carefully laid not only failed to capture Miao Weizhen, but also lost many elite troops and even the crucial "Xinglan Consciousness Core".
"A bunch of rubbish!" He cursed under his breath, but quickly regained his composure. He pulled up another encrypted file, which contained a speculative analysis of the coordinates of the Iron Throne base.
"Pass the word down! Operation 'Net' enters its second phase. Mobilize the Fourth and Sixth Fleets to move towards the K-77 star field. Simultaneously, activate all the traps we've planted within Sailiang. It's time to... add fuel to the fire for His Majesty Wen Xunyi." His fingertips drummed on the table, a new conspiracy brewing in his eyes. "Miao Weizhen, do you think rescuing your sister's soul is the end? The game has only just begun."
In the days that followed, the Iron Throne gradually recovered from its wounds. Miao Weizhen devoted himself to his recovery and work with astonishing perseverance. He needed to recover quickly to face the inevitable retaliation from the Federation. His tacit understanding with Wen Ling deepened. One was responsible for macro-strategy and ruthless decision-making, while the other was responsible for internal cohesion and human balance. Together, they supported this force struggling to survive in the cracks.
Dr. Anthony's laboratory has become a new focal point. He, Susie, and Ye Lan form the technical core, attempting to repair the fragments of Xinglan's consciousness while integrating the ancient technologies extracted from them into the Guardian's Heart and Luofeng Reverberations systems. Xinglan's legacy of knowledge is quietly transforming the technological foundation of the Iron Throne.
Ayuan no longer confined herself to the living quarters; she began participating in meetings regarding material allocation and personnel management, using her sensitivity and empathy to counteract the rigidity of purely military management. Lao Chen's ecological recycling system successfully cultivated several new types of high-energy, easily storable algae, preparing for a possible prolonged siege.
Luo Yan is still the silent shadow, but her "Scavenger" team has been replenished with fresh blood. She begins to train these newcomers in an almost harsh manner, instilling her survival skills and the concept of absolute loyalty into them.
One evening, Wen Ling pushed Miao Weizhen's wheelchair (a requirement imposed by Dr. Keith) along the observation corridor on the upper level of the base. The afterglow of the setting sun filtered through the huge porthole, lengthening their silhouettes.
"Qu Beichen will not give up." Miao Weizhen looked at the vast sea of stars outside the window with a calm voice.
"I know." Wen Ling stopped, stood behind him, and put her hands on his shoulders. "But we are no longer the same as before."
Miao Weizhen raised his hand, covering the one on his shoulder. Xinglan's shattered consciousness in the storage unit represented an unfulfilled responsibility; the warm palm of the young man behind him was the strength to move forward; every busy figure in the base represented the present that must be protected.
The road ahead is still fraught with thorns, and the shadow of the Federation is never far away. But this time, they are no longer alone.
Dr. Case's "forced rest" order had limited effect on Miao Weizhen.
Less than a week later, he returned to the command center. Although his face was still pale, his cold and hard aura of control had returned. However, this time, next to his desk, there was another smaller desk, belonging to Wen Ling.
One handled military affairs and intelligence, the other coordinated internal affairs and technical matters. Most of the time, they were busy with their own duties, occasionally looking up to exchange a glance or whispering a few words about a certain issue. Needless to say, an invisible tacit understanding flowed in the air, giving the once solemn command center an inexplicable sense of home.
After work that day, Wen Ling was mysteriously pulled away by A Yuan. When he returned to the rest cabin he and Miao Weizhen shared, he found a small, incubator inside. He opened it and saw several... abstractly artistic pastries, with a note from A Yuan next to it:
[Your Highness, try using the newly cultivated 'Moonlight Fruit'. It should taste good! (The Minister's portion of sugar was reduced by half.)]
Wen Ling laughed and took a bite. It was lightly sweet, not greasy, with a distinct fruity aroma. He carefully placed the portion with half the sugar on a plate, poured a glass of warm water, and brought both to Miao Weizhen, who was reclining on the sofa with his eyes closed.
"Try it? Ayuan's new work." Wen Ling sat down beside him.
Miao Weizhen opened his eyes, glanced at the suspicious-looking pastry, and didn't touch it.
"Why, are you afraid that Ayuan will poison you?" Wen Ling raised an eyebrow and deliberately took a bite of his piece. "Look, it's okay."
Miao Weizhen's gaze fell on the corner of his lips which was stained with some crumbs. His eyes darkened, and he suddenly reached out and grabbed the back of his neck. He leaned over and gently licked the crumbs off with the tip of his tongue.
Wen Ling's whole body stiffened, and his ears turned red instantly.
"Well, it's not poisonous." Miao Weizhen sat back, his tone as calm as if he was commenting on the weather. He picked up the cake with half the sugar and started to eat it slowly.
Wen Ling: “…”
He felt his cheeks burning.
At this moment, the communicator rang, and it was Susie's clamoring voice: "Your Highness! Minister! Come to Lao Lin quickly! There are some good things to see!"
When they arrived at the workshop, they found Han Zhong, Luo Yan, Anthony, and the others already there. In the center of the workshop sat a heavily modified light assault mech, its streamlined armor gleaming with a faint blue sheen.
"How's it?" Susie patted the mecha's shell excitedly. "Sister Ye Lan and I used some of the material technology we analyzed from Xinglan... uh, from that space station, combined with Lao Lin's craftsmanship to modify it! The energy utilization efficiency has increased by 20%! The defense strength..."
She spoke non-stop, while Ye Lan smiled and supplemented the technical details. Lao Lin crossed his arms, a rare look of satisfaction on his face. Han Zhong walked around the mech, marveling, "Nice stuff! If I could equip a small team with it, I could just rip through the Federation's formation in the next encounter!"
Dr. Anthony was more concerned about technological ethics: "The stability of this energy core still needs more testing, especially its performance in extreme environments..."
Luo Yan didn't say anything, but her mechanical prosthetic eyes had already scanned and recorded every detail of the mecha, obviously assessing its tactical value.
Wen Ling watched the scene before him—a technophile, a seasoned general, a rigorous scientist, a loyal guard... These very different individuals, gathered here because of a shared belief, passionately discussing the possibilities of the future. He felt a genuine warmth.
He quietly glanced at Miao Weizhen beside him and found that his gaze was also sweeping through the crowd, finally meeting his. Those always cold eyes seemed to reflect the warm light of the workshop, softening a little.
After a few days of peace, a small storm quietly arose.
The cause was an anonymous vote within the base (initiated by some daring young engineers) on "Who is more...", His Highness or the Minister.
Options included: Who's more powerful? (Military/technological), Who's better looking? (No surprise), Who's more terrifying? (A landslide victory for the minister), and... Who's on top? (This option was quickly deleted by Luo Yan, who claimed it "endangered the network security of the base," and the initiator was subsequently investigated.)
Somehow the news reached the ears of the two parties involved.
That night, Wen Ling mentioned this in the rest cabin and laughed so hard that he couldn't straighten his back. "They said they were more afraid of you, Chief Miao. They said that a single look from you could give them nightmares for three days."
Miao Weizhen was reading a book, and without even looking up, he simply replied, "Yeah."
Wen Ling leaned over, her green eyes flashing with cunning: "Then...what does Minister Miao think about the other deleted option?"
Miao Weizhen finally raised his eyes from the page and looked at the smiling face close at hand. He put the book down, reached out and pinched Wen Ling's chin, and said in a low and dangerous voice: "Do you want to practice it to verify the answer?"
Wen Ling's heart skipped a beat, and the heat that had just faded from his face surged back up. He said stubbornly, "...Who's afraid of who?"
No one knew about the final "verification" process, but the next day, Wen Ling almost missed breakfast, which was rare, and Miao Weizhen seemed to be in a visibly good mood. He even showed less of his usual coldness towards Han Zhong who came to report on his work.
After Han Zhong finished his report, he looked at the minister's face, which was slightly more relaxed than usual. He then caught a glimpse of Wen Ling, who was discussing technology with Anthony not far away, with a faint red mark on the back of his neck. The old general touched his chin, a knowing smile flashed in his eyes, and he shook his head and muttered, "Young man..." and walked away.
Life remains filled with pressure and challenges, with the threat of the Federation looming like a sword of Damocles. But in the small world of the Iron Throne, the warmth of everyday life gradually dispels the shadow of war, nourishing everyone and bringing two hearts, entwined in the darkness, ever closer.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
