With the hostage held firmly in Meng Jian’s hands—and with Jin Heng himself claiming he was merely having tea with a friend—Li Xiao had no valid pretext to bring the man back by force.

Watching Li Xiao return to the vehicle, Song Jin’s gaze swept past the nearby military-plated car, his tone laced with heavy displeasure. “We’re just letting it go like this?”

For someone to pull strings under his very nose—had this been back in the Shengya Empire, both these low-level goons and that old man named Meng would have paid dearly for it.

Li Xiao said, “We’ll see how things develop tomorrow.”

Jin Heng held a delicate position. Furthermore, Li Xiao wanted to observe what Meng Jian intended to achieve through him.

Past three in the afternoon, both Li Xiao and Song Jin received a group notification simultaneously.

They had been added to an alumni messaging group for the farewell banquet. The instructor leading the team dropped a landing notice: around four o’clock, everyone could check into the annex set aside for exchange students.

Li Xiao clicked on the team information for the accompanying faculty and caught sight of Yan Qing’s name on the roster. Feeling a flicker of doubt, he casually initiated a video call with him.

The popped-up screen displayed Yan Qing clad in the formal military uniform of the teaching faculty. Holding a roster, he was walking along the transport’s corridor, checking on each student one by one.

“Second Highness?”

Having logged a entry, Yan Qing looked up at the screen. “Is something the matter?”

“No need for formal titles in private,” Li Xiao asked directly. “Who assigned you this task?”

“Do you think it’s unreasonable as well?”

Yan Qing walked toward the next lounge cabin. “The farewell banquet is geared toward the Shengya exchange students, involving diplomatic relations between our two nations. Such a formal occasion should have been led by the general affairs division. I didn’t expect it to fall on me again.”

Li Xiao asked, “A last-minute notification from the principal?”

Yan Qing replied, “Spot on.”

Li Xiao pondered for a moment, making an arrangement to meet him at the annex early that evening.

The annex stood less than ten kilometers from the Royal Palace, typically reserved for hosting foreign dignitaries.

By the time Li Xiao and Song Jin arrived, the students had already checked in.

Having received word from Song Jin earlier, Qian Can and his two companions had been waiting by the main entrance downstairs. Before long, a flashy, silver-white luxury hovercar descended. Li Xiao and Song Jin stepped out from the gull-wing doors on either side.

“Brother! Boss Li!”

Munching on a steamed bun, Qian Can ran over in excitement, scanning them up and down with suspicion. “Did you guys grow taller again?”

Song Jin glanced at the bun in his hand and asked in disdain, “Where did you pick up that bun?”

“From the annex cafeteria—it’s insanely delicious! We won’t get to eat this once we’re back home.”

As he spoke, Qian Can fished another bun out of his trousers pocket and offered it over. “Wanna try one?”

Song Jin declined, “Take it away. You think I’m as gluttonous as you?”

Qian Can: “…”

While they were talking, Jiang Hao and Qin Yue, who had followed close behind, greeted Li Xiao.

Mindful of the tasks assigned to them, Li Xiao headed inside. “Let’s talk inside.”

In the third-floor living room, Li Xiao had 09 hijack the smart security system ahead of time, before asking Jiang Hao, “How is progress on Lin Shuo’s side?”

Lin Shuo was, after all, just an ordinary student. His family background was negligible within power circles, making it inherently risky for him to secretly probe for intel on the modified humans.

Li Xiao had instructed Jiang Hao to keep a constant eye on Lin Shuo’s movements and offer assistance whenever necessary.

Jiang Hao reported, “He has gathered profiles on eighty-two students who were invited to undergo modification. Twelve of them are already modified humans. However, judging from Lin Shuo’s subtle probing, none of them have received any special missions so far.”

With that, Jiang Hao transmitted a freshly compiled dossier to Li Xiao.

Li Xiao skimmed through it swiftly.

Information on every modified human in the Military Academy had already been cataloged by 07 and 09. This file contained details regarding through whom or what channels they had been modified, their reasons for undergoing the procedure, and the “modified-exclusive” missions they had been assigned up to now.

These twelve individuals spanned across both first- and second-year cohorts. Their abilities weren’t top-tier in their respective years, ranking only at the upper-middle tier among the modified humans.

The earliest among them had undergone modification over a year ago, yet according to their statements, none had been handed an actual mission to date.

The so-called “doing missions to accumulate points for blood exchanges” was likely valid only under specific conditions.

Meng Jian held the lifeline of these modified humans, manipulating them as he saw fit. He kept the entire roster on standby when unneeded, but could mobilize every single one of them at a moment’s notice when necessary—stopping their blood supply if they dared to disobey.

High-caliber fighters like Qi Ge, Lin Zhou, and Liu Jie were far more likely to be assigned missions, whereas the mediocre ones could lay low and survive longer.

Beside them, Song Jin had already started eating a bun. Leaning over the back of the sofa, he drew close to Li Xiao’s screen. “The performance gap after modification is quite substantial. It just proves that feeding divine medicine to a pheasant won’t turn it into a phoenix.”

Li Xiao: “…”

Crude as the phrasing was, the logic held up.

Song Jin added, “Still, having collected profiles on dozens of people, he hasn’t been discovered at all?”

It wasn’t that he doubted Lin Shuo’s competence. As the chief of the second-year Mecha Department, Lin Shuo carried weight and possessed sufficient influence; he was seen as an authority among ordinary students, making it relatively easier to earn their trust and conduct inquiries.

However, the Meng family’s tentacles reached into every corner of the Danse Empire, with First Military Academy being a prime stronghold. Any subtle shift could spark their vigilance.

Catching the scent of the steamed bun, Li Xiao waited until Song Jin wasn’t looking, subtly tilted his head, and stole a massive bite, chewing with a deadpan expression. “Things are different now.”

Back when they were at the Military Academy, the Meng family’s focus was glued to Li Xiao. Trying to conduct covert investigations while evading their sight would have been extraordinarily difficult. But now, both he and his brother were stationed in the Imperial Capital. Furthermore, the pressure exerted by the Shengya Empire along the border had yet to abate, and the tremors caused by the downfall of the Qi family continued to ripple through the realm. The stances of many within the Meng faction were wavering, which naturally affected the younger generation back at the Military Academy.

Meanwhile, the Meng family had lost their most loyal henchmen, their border blood-agent supply bases had been heavily sabotaged, and various online rumors continued to ferment…

The convergence of these factors had pushed the Meng family into an increasingly passive corner, leaving them with no bandwidth to monitor a minor affair at First Military Academy.

A moment’s inattention, and they might even lose the territory currently in their hands.

Qin Yue took over the conversation: “The school has been in chaos while you were away. Qi Ge being gunned down on the spot caused quite a stir, and then the illegal blood supply chain along the border was exposed. The lesser nobles tied to the Meng family are growing exceedingly restless.”

Jiang Hao nodded in agreement. “There’s been a disruption in the blood agent supply for the modified humans. In this week alone, we’ve heard of no fewer than twenty students flying into rages and being rushed to the medical bay. Lin Shuo didn’t even need to probe deliberately; just a bit of sympathy was enough to draw out everything they knew.”

“The data gathered is quite thorough. When do you plan to pull in the net?”

Song Jin was just about to take another bite of his bun, only to realize only a tiny piece of the crust remained. Looking over, he saw Li Xiao’s cheeks puffed out, with the lingering evidence of his crime still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

Li Xiao swallowed and said, “It’s still not enough.”

Jin Heng had made appearances at several critical locations and junctures.

Intuition told him that this line of inquiry was vital.

Turning his head to sneak another bite, Li Xiao found Song Jin staring at him darkly. He put on an innocent look and asked, “What is it?”

Song Jin offered a sweet smile. “Does it taste good?”

Li Xiao gave it a serious thought. “Not as good as you.”

The moment the words left his mouth, a fist flew straight toward him.

Song Jin vaulted his long legs over the sofa, chasing Li Xiao to land a beating.

Bringing up what shouldn’t be brought up—he was practically begging for a thrashing.

Having grown accustomed to such scenes, Jiang Hao and the other two sat around the low table, munching on snacks.

Qian Can remarked, “I wonder if there’ll be handsome guys and pretty girls at the banquet tomorrow, hehehe…”

Qin Yue deadpanned, “Wipe off your drool.”

Jiang Hao noted, “I heard quite a few descendants of the Danse nobility will be attending.”

Qin Yue added, “How could they miss out on such a prime networking opportunity?”

Hearing them discuss tomorrow’s banquet, Li Xiao instructed, “None of you should stray too far from Instructor Yan tomorrow. Ensure at least one of you remains by his side at all times.”

Having finished his bun, Qian Can moved on to spicy sauce wontons. Hearing this, he asked in confusion, “Is tomorrow a middle-aged matchmaking session?”

The nobility and royalty were packed with people bored out of their minds, hosting banquets under any excuse. They looked grand on the surface, but were essentially either gossip hubs or speed-dating events.

That rule applied regardless of the empire.

“No.” Li Xiao couldn’t be certain whether trouble would brew, but having someone stand guard near Yan Qing was a necessary precaution.

Qin Yue opened a meal box to eat grilled meatballs. “Instructor Yan is forty already, isn’t he? It’s about time he found a partner.”

Jiang Hao adopted a serious expression, his tone tinged with a faint sorrow. “If only Instructor Yan could become my sister-in-law. It’s a pity my brother isn’t worthy of him.”

“Pfft—cough, cough, cough!”

A wonton nearly shot out of Qian Can’s nostril. “Old Jiang, that thought of yours is dangerously wild!”

Qin Yue let out a sound of disgust, shoving his meal box far away before handing him a tissue. “Don’t talk while eating, that’s filthy!”

Jiang Hao chewed on a soft, sweet potato fry. “Instructor Yan is patient and knows how to take care of people. But my brother isn’t like me—he can’t take so many spouses. Besides, Instructor Yan deserves better.”

Hearing this, both Li Xiao and Song Jin paused simultaneously, stunned twice over by Jiang Hao’s single statement.

Song Jin asked out of curiosity, “Your brother has a spouse? How come we’ve never heard you mention it?”

“They’ve been separated for nearly ten years.”

Jiang Hao explained offhandedly, “When my brother first joined the organization, if Brother Ya hadn’t been backing him from behind, someone with his temperament would have been beaten to death by a coalition of enemies long ago.”

“Organization?”

Qin Yue asked curiously, “What organization?”

Qian Can wiped his mouth, leaning in with a face full of gossip.

“…” Jiang Hao scratched his cheek, biting the bullet as he said, “A charitable organization.”

Qin Yue: “…”

Qian Can: “…”

Did they look that easy to fool?

Song Jin leaned against the side of the sofa. “Why the separation?”

Jiang Hao replied, “Brother Ya’s family wanted to relocate to another planet, but my brother refused to go. After a massive fight, Brother Ya stormed off in anger. Later, my brother took over the organization and kept running it, but I haven’t seen Brother Ya since.”

Connecting this with what Jiang Chi had mentioned before, Song Jin quickly pieced together the cause and effect.

This “Brother Ya” was likely the son of the Snow Leopard faction’s former leader. Back when the group went legit, the family had relocated to a fourth-rank planet. However, because Jiang Chi had been subjected to mental suggestion, he was physically unable to leave the border, leaving them with no choice but to break up.

“Brother Ya?”

Li Xiao mused thoughtfully, “Wu Ya?”

“Yes.” Jiang Hao turned to look at Li Xiao, his tone turning urgent. “Boss, you know him?”

Li Xiao thought to himself that it was indeed him.

This Beta, whose name was the only refined thing about him, was a ruthless character with an extraordinary capacity for investment and management. Every venture he touched turned a profit; hardly anyone in business circles didn’t know his name.

When the civil war erupted in his previous life, the Yi family had faced a joint siege by the Meng, Zheng, and Qi families. Li Xiao had sought Wu Ya’s assistance, successfully transporting a substantial amount of energy right under Meng Jian’s nose.

Song Jin chimed in, “You know him too?”

Li Xiao: “…”

Why did that sound so laced with jealousy?

Li Xiao turned to Jiang Hao. “When I was fifteen, I met a Beta named Wu Ya at a mecha exhibition. I’m not sure if it’s the same person you’re referring to.”

Saying this, something suddenly clicked in Li Xiao’s mind. He had 09 retrieve Wu Ya’s dossier from the military database; the timing of his emigration aligned roughly with what Jiang Chi and Jiang Hao had described.

Li Xiao then searched for Wu Ya’s name online.

Within the investment landscape, he quickly located a company named “Xingya,” which controlled one of the two largest social networking platforms in the Danse Empire.

No wonder when Meng Jian launched a media war in his past life—completely suppressing any news favorable to him—Xingya was the sole entity stubborn enough to hold the line, consistently taking his side.

For a shrewd merchant to risk everything like that, Jiang Chi and Jiang Hao were likely a major reason behind it.

With this connection, however, certain matters would be far easier to handle.

Song Jin asked, “Who are you plotting against now?”

Li Xiao: “…I never plot against people.”

Just as Song Jin was about to speak, Li Xiao added as a matter of course, “I merely make reasonable use of resources.”

Song Jin: “…”

Always full of your twisted logic.

Jiang Hao pressed further, “Boss, do you know where he is?”

Li Xiao shook his head. “He’s certainly not farming vegetables in the countryside.”

Jiang Hao: “…”

The farewell banquet was set to begin at three o’clock the following afternoon, with numerous high-ranking officials from the Danse Empire and diplomats from the Shengya Empire in attendance.

Prior to the evening banquet, the leadership of First Military Academy had organized an exhibition mecha match, set in a primeval forest located behind the annex.

Though called a primeval forest, every single scenic detail had been meticulously designed, allowing the audience to witness thrilling mecha duels while taking in the wild scenery.

For an occasion involving foreign dignitaries, the military academy students selected to compete had undergone rigorous screening, representing the face of the Danse Empire.

The spectating area was a massive, mushroom-shaped tower. The cap section was transparent on all sides, intelligently shifting to optimal viewing angles as the battle progressed.

Li Xiao led Song Jin toward the King’s viewing section.

Old Liu had made preparations well in advance. The moment he guided them to their seats, he promptly served tea and refreshments, displaying an attentive demeanor that stopped just short of hand-feeding them.

Other officials were already seated beforehand. Seeing Li Xiao and Song Jin taking seats directly beside Li Ji, they exchanged knowing looks.

Over the past six months, Li Xiao’s status had shot up like a rocket; the once-ignored, minor prince was entirely a thing of the past.

The more valuable Li Xiao proved to be, the more Li Ji would prioritize him, causing various resources to follow in rapid succession.

Though no one voiced it explicitly, subtle shifts were rippling through political circles, with many beginning to align themselves with Li Xiao.

Compared to Li Ji, who was trapped in the palace, the Second Prince was far more likely to lead them to unprecedented heights amidst these turbulent times.

The moment Li Xiao sat down, numerous officials could no longer hold back, lining up to step forward and offer their greetings.

“They’ve all gone over. Come on, let’s go too.”

“Squeezing in with that massive crowd—doesn’t that make us look too bootlicking?”

“You think you can strike up a conversation with the Second Highness on your own?”

“Going over to greet him might not guarantee benefits, but failing to go will definitely bring bad luck. If you’re not going, I am.”

“Hey, you old rascal, wait for me!”

Seated on the left side of the second row, Meng Jian slowly twirled his walnut fidgets as he overheard the hushed chatter of the high-ranking officials behind him.

Pull any one of these individuals out, and they were figures of immense weight in the political arena.

These high-ranking officials, held in high esteem by the outside world, lowered themselves before Li Xiao, their ingratiating smiles resembling greenhorns who had just entered society.

Suppressing his surging anger, Meng Jian tightened his grip. Right before crushing the walnuts, he resumed casually chatting with the Foreign Minister beside him as if nothing had happened.

As the two were discussing tea pets, the Foreign Minister glanced in Li Xiao’s direction and suddenly remarked, “It’s truly a rare sight. How many years has it been since they were this united?”

Meng Jian let out a cool, indifferent hmph. “When people get old, they like to join in on the excitement.”

“That’s very true.”

The Foreign Minister smiled. “In that case, I’ll go over and offer my greetings to the Second Highness in a bit as well.”

Meng Jian choked on his words, so enraged he nearly shattered the walnuts in his palm.

In the front row, Li Xiao was busy dealing with the officials. Inadvertently, he noticed Song Jin sitting beside him, holding a dessert while discussing tweaks to the recipe with Li Ji.

The two engaged in a lively back-and-forth, conversing with great enthusiasm and leaving him completely ignored on the side.

Noticing the intense gaze behind him, Song Jin turned his head in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

Li Xiao asked in a flat, cold tone, “Is it really that delicious?”

Song Jin looked at him with a grin. “Why does that sound so sour?”

The exhibition mecha match consisted of five rounds. The first round featured Liu Jie pitted against Zhang Ke, one of the top five fighters among the third-year students.

Though both were students, their strength had likely surpassed certain active-duty military mecha pilots. The match remained high-octane throughout, stringing combo after combo together with escalating difficulty. It masterfully combined competitive intensity with performance value, leaving the entire audience cheering in thrill.

The second match proved slightly inferior by comparison, while the third was even more lukewarm, with neither side able to fully unleash their capabilities.

Many in the viewing area discussed the match as they watched.

“Both competitors in this match are nobles, so they carry heavier baggage—afraid that a blunder might bring embarrassment to their families.”

“This is already considered decent. The youngster in my family didn’t even qualify to compete.”

“By comparison, that Liu Jie’s strength stands out extraordinarily.”

“You guys don’t know? The Second Princess Consort can actually suppress Liu Jie completely—sliced his mecha into pieces!”

“I saw it from the video my youngest sent me. The Second Princess Consort is truly formidable.”

“The Second Highness and the Princess Consort are comparable in strength. From the looks of it, the Second Highness is terrifically strong as well!”

Meng Jian was already stewing with suppressed rage. Hearing this, he suddenly spoke up: “The strength of these two students pales in comparison to the Second Highness. Rather than dragging out the fight like this, it would be better to have the Second Highness step onto the field directly.”

He used a normal volume, yet it sounded exceptionally jarring in the quiet space.

Catching Li Ji’s cold glare out of the corner of his eye, Meng Jian remained entirely unfazed. “Little Song will be returning home tomorrow. Who knows when there will be another opportunity to visit the Danse Empire? Why not arrange a match between him and the Second Highness? A showdown between masters—it would surely be far more captivating than what we’re seeing now.”

The atmosphere in the spectating area shifted abruptly.

The officials gradually stopped their conversations.

On the surface, Meng Jian was flattering the Second Prince and his consort, but who didn’t know the hidden agenda tucked inside his mind?

Wrapping his words in such pretty packaging—how was this any different from demanding that juniors sitting at the same dining table stand up to perform for their elders?

Young as Li Xiao was, he was still royalty. The Meng family treated him entirely like a junior to be ordered around, which was, plain and simple, an overt and covert attempt to suppress the Royal Family.

The insidious part was how subtly such a trap was laid; one misstep, and a person would fall right into it.

Yi Yongning thought to himself that Meng Jian was playing his old tricks again. Just as he prepared to step in and bail Li Xiao out, he heard Li Xiao—seated in the front row—speak up without even turning his head: “What’s the fun in a match between Xiao Jin and me? Why not arrange for you—someone who has been away from the frontlines for over thirty years—to step into the ring? I imagine that would be far more captivating than watching me play with mechas.”

The moment Li Xiao finished speaking, an official among the crowd chimed in with a laugh: “I’d actually really love to see Elder Meng pilot a mecha.”

Another official agreed, “Me too! And pair him up against a military general from his era—now that would be a sight to behold!”

With their lead, other officials joined in one after another.

“I’ve never seen Elder Meng pilot a mecha before. I’m truly looking forward to it.”

“It’d be a perfect opportunity to set an example for these young folks.”

“We need to find a suitable opponent for Elder Meng. General Zheng Kang’an seems like a great choice.”

“Hahaha, they were rivals back in their youth! The sense of destiny would instantly rush right back!”

Watching them grin and banter, Meng Jian’s face finally turned dark, unable to maintain his composure.

He glanced at the time: 3:30 PM. Returning to the Royal Palace at 4:00 PM.

There were still thirty minutes left.

In just thirty more minutes, every bit of praise Li Xiao had gathered to this day, along with everything he had meticulously built, would crumble into absolute nothingness.