“Your dad?” Rong Shi’s hand tightened, almost crushing the little paper boat.

Song Yu nodded and casually asked, “Who gave you this?”

Rong Shi recalled the medic’s expression and gait and felt certain it was Jiang Huai.

But if he could disguise himself as a banquet waiter and a legion medic, then was the identity “Jiang Huai” also fake?

Was it coincidence?

The kitten’s dad liked playing with crease-reassembly, and Jiang Huai just happened to use the same method for a code?

Could it actually be—the same person?

If he was the kitten’s dad, Shen Sinian, why wouldn’t he acknowledge his child?

Rong Shi shook his head, eyes dark. “I don’t know who he is.”

Before he had proof, he couldn’t tell the kitten this kind of guess.

Hope breeds anxiety and dread; it was too torturous.

Early the next morning, they reached the rally point and began the second day’s pioneering mission.

Before muster, Zheng Long saw them approach and barked coldly, “Why didn’t you follow orders?!”

The harsh rebuke drew everyone’s attention.

Seeing that Rong Shi and Song Yu didn’t speak, Zheng Long rapped his baton on the metal tabletop—bang, bang—echoing sharply.

“Didn’t I tell you to rendezvous with Team A3? And you hung up on my comms? Think you can swagger around here like at school, and ignore command here too?!”

Around them, people whispered—

“They didn’t move with A3?”

“I actually forgot the two of them existed.”

“Went to find a corner to flirt, I bet? Heh heh.”

“Definitely slacked off.”

“Taking the credit for nothing isn’t how this works. At least do something.”

“Doing no work but wanting the results.”

Old Lin and his teammates walked out from the equipment area, just in time to hear Zheng Long’s shout.

He strode over and, hearing the murmurs, snapped at the nearest alpha: “Did you see them slack off with your own eyes?!”

The alpha froze, then his face flushed at being called out, and he shot back, “What’s wrong with you? You’re the first to mock rookies, and today you’re defending them?”

“I was young and stupid,” Old Lin said righteously. “Rookies are so adorable—they should be protected.”

The few who heard him made exaggerated gagging faces.

Old Lin ignored them, jogged up to Zheng Long, saluted, and said loudly: “Reporting, sir: the two interns were on mission with Team A8 yesterday and performed excellently.”

Zheng Long had intended to use this as an excuse to punish Rong Shi; hearing that, his expression darkened further.

“With A8? They’re assigned to A3.”

Old Lin choked and quickly said, “They’re unfamiliar with the battlefield. They might have gotten lost.”

Zheng Long: “They can’t even keep formation—what ‘excellent performance’ could they have?”

A day ago, Old Lin would’ve agreed.

Dozens of cadets come to the Second Legion for internships every year. Very few are actually useful.

Rationally, Old Lin understood—just of age, first battle—staying dry was an achievement. His own first time wasn’t great either.

But emotionally, he was annoyed.

Life in the military was oppressive enough, and having a bunch of clueless newbies underfoot made him want to pin them down and beat the frustration out.

He tipped his head at the silent Rong Shi and Song Yu and suddenly found these two wronged kids heartbreakingly sympathetic.

“Sir, two of our teammates died yesterday. We didn’t have time to report in full,” Old Lin said, grave. “A8 was attacked by hundreds of venom-bees. If these two kids hadn’t come to the rescue, A8 might’ve been wiped out.”

Whoa!

Hundreds?!

The others were stunned.

Their forward recon unit mainly did scouting and rarely engaged large swarms of mutants head-on.

Before each op, the area was pre-cleared by mecha and other combat units.

Running into hundreds of venom-bees at once basically shouldn’t happen.

“For real?! That’s nuts!”

“No wonder A8 was hit so hard. If it was hundreds of venom-bees, it’s a miracle so many came back.”

“He said the interns rescued them? How?”

“They got there faster than the rescue unit?”

“Two interns against hundreds of venom-bees? Tell that to a ghost.”

“He’s drunk from last night, clearly.”

Zheng Long’s brows knotted. After a flicker of surprise, he snapped, “What nonsense! What ability do they have to rescue you?!”

Two green kids on their first battlefield rescuing a seasoned pioneering squad?

Impossible.

“It’s true.” Old Lin yanked off the recorder at his chest and held it out. “Check my comm logs and the battle video if you don’t believe me.”

This was too absurd. Zheng Long snatched the device and pulled up the video.

Maybe Rong Shi and Song Yu had some skill, but there was no way it was that great.

He’d see for himself what kind of “rescue” this was.

Outside the bay door, Jin Dazhao came with Qing Song for routine inspection, Qiu Tianhao in tow.

“Today our mecha vanguard will sweep zones Z70 and X90,” Qing Song reported respectfully. “Initial clearing, then tomorrow the forward marines can do detailed mopping up.”

“Prioritize venom-bees and toxic creepers for extermination.” After Qing Song acknowledged, Jin Dazhao looked to Qiu Tianhao. “Tianhao, how’s it been under Qing Song?”

“Master’s technique is superb. I’ve learned a lot,” Qiu replied respectfully.

Qing Song shook his head with a laugh. “Don’t call me ‘master.’ Soon enough, I’ll be saluting you as sir.”

Qiu laughed as well. “That’s not about rank.”

As they spoke, Jin Dazhao suddenly stopped, frowned, and stared in one direction.

His “disciples” followed his gaze.

In the recon unit’s assembly hall, a battle video was playing.

The screen was swarming with venom-bees—so dense it made your scalp crawl.

Every part of a venom-bee is toxic. If your skin is torn, it’s a nightmare.

The antidote can ease symptoms, but if the wound is big, it doesn’t do much.

A sharp venom stinger filled the center of the screen. The onlookers reflexively jerked back—half-afraid it would pierce through and jab them.

The quick-tempered ones were already cussing.

“Damn! Scared my heart right out of my chest.”

“This many, this wide an area—laser emplacements won’t handle it easily.”

“Scared me half to death!”

“Holy—he just chopped its head off?!”

On screen, a venom-bee’s head flew; its body thudded down to reveal behind it a lean youth in a fitted combat suit, clear-cut features.

Zheng Long scowled, looking uglier by the second.

Given how hard a venom-bee’s carapace is, even he wouldn’t be confident taking a head in one stroke. Where did Rong Shi get that kind of strength?!

Maybe it was a fluke.

As the video continued, gasps rippled through the hall; everyone was more and more shocked.

Good grief—this couple were both monsters!

“Seeing Rong Shi butcher venom-bees now, I believe he held back the other night.”

“Compared to this viciousness, Song Yu going at Old Wu the other night was just playing around.”

“Yeah—if he’d been serious, Old Wu wouldn’t have gotten away with just a jabbed hand.”

“Nothing flashy in the moves, but the precision is damn insane.”

“Look at them—not flushed, not panting. Easy.”

“No wonder Old Lin said they went to the rescue.”

“Sick!” Qing Song watched, blood surging. “I knew he was special.”

Qiu Tianhao’s eyes shone, his hands itching.

It had been a long time since someone his age appeared who he truly wanted to challenge.

Master and disciple leaned together, dissecting Rong Shi and Song Yu’s fighting movements—their timing and effect each strike achieved.

The more they analyzed, the wilder it got.

This was textbook-level combat.

When the video ended, Old Lin turned to Zheng Long. “Even for veterans, this performance is impeccable. Please, sir, in light of their merit, waive the punishment.”

With hundreds in the hall buzzing, Zheng Long’s eyes were glacial.

Young Master Zhao Wan had instructed him to ruin Rong Shi and Song Yu’s reputations and ensure they got no assessment points.

Now reputation-ruining was basically impossible.

In these soldiers’ eyes, strength earns respect.

Thinking of that, he barked, “But they did hang up my comms, and they did disobey orders! If everyone acted like them, what discipline would the legion have?!”

Even after seeing the footage, this wasn’t over? Old Lin was baffled.

But his rank was far below Zheng Long’s; if the man wouldn’t listen, there was nothing he could do.

Many in the hall were curious how much merit would be submitted for Rong Shi and Song Yu.

Saving a pioneering squad as freshmen would net extra on top of base merit.

“Merit?” Zheng Long’s cold gaze swept over Rong Shi. “That’s conditional on obeying orders. They ignored division of labor and command and wandered the battlefield. I can hardly tolerate it.”

Old Lin glanced between the two unfazed kids and Zheng Long, confused.

What the hell—no merit at all?

Zheng Long: “The night before last you assaulted legion soldiers without cause—I gave a warning. Yesterday you ignored my command—a second warning. Third strike and you’re out. Your assessment scores are cleared to zero.”

The whole room was baffled.

They earned merit but got no reward and, instead, got their scores wiped?

But Zheng Long was the direct superior; the two interns weren’t known to them. No one voiced their questions.

“Sir, that’s unreasonable, isn’t it?” Old Lin felt like he’d wandered into a fantasy. “They saved our lives.”

“Yeah, sir—they really are outstanding. Please observe longer.”

“They were downright dashing against the venom-bees.”

A8’s members spoke up one after another for Rong Shi and Song Yu.

“Enough!” Zheng Long’s face was dark. “The matter is decided. Now we begin today’s briefing—”

At the door, Qing Song was seething at Zheng Long’s clown show.

Poach people, then don’t even train them right!

Qiu Tianhao frowned and murmured to Jin Dazhao, “Sir, they’re truly exceptional. They shouldn’t be treated like this.”

Jin Dazhao’s expression was unreadable. He said nothing and turned to go.

“Hey—” Qing Song, anxious, was about to call him back when Rong Shi’s voice carried from the hall.

Jin Dazhao paused mid-step.

“As for your deductions—deduct however many you like. I have no objection,” Rong Shi said to Zheng Long, calm and unhurried. “However, placing interns on a battlefield and not supervising them, then ordering them to cross a level-4 danger zone alone to the rally point—your actions seriously violate the ‘Cadet Internship Agreement’ signed by the military academy and the military.”

The hall fell silent.

Rong Shi tugged off his recorder, composed. “If I submit this to the academy, you’ll likely face prison.”

Damn—ruthless!

Everyone held their breath as the situation escalated.

“You were the ones who didn’t cooperate!” Zheng Long’s face couldn’t get any darker.

He’d planned it out—they’d be crippled if not dead.

He hadn’t expected the two to return not only unharmed but also to have stirred up trouble—and ruined his plan entirely.

Song Yu snorted. “Who didn’t cooperate isn’t for you to say.”

The disrespect stung. Zheng Long’s voice jumped eight pitches: “In here it is for me to say—”

“Enough!”

A full-chested bark cut him off.

Heads turned. Seeing Jin Dazhao, the hall rose as one to salute.

Zheng Long started, then hurried forward.

“Sir, they are simply too defiant. I—”

“This is how you train rookies?” Jin Dazhao asked, hands behind his back. “Go collect one hundred strokes.”

Zheng Long clenched his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

He looked at Rong Shi. “Good work. Every bit of merit due will be submitted. As for what’s next—stay here or join Qing Song—it’s your choice.”

He left.

Qing Song didn’t even get the chance to be happy, scrambling to follow.

In the corridor, master and disciple were both confused. Didn’t the commander dislike genius fighters like Rong Shi and Song Yu? Why speak up for them now?

Thinking that, Qing Song probed as gently as he could—only to get barked at.

“Which eye saw me dislike them?!”

Qing Song: “…”

Both eyes, sir.

Jin Dazhao huffed, then chuckled to himself after a moment, muttering under his breath, “Rong Guang’s son wouldn’t be a washout.”

“So Jin Dazhao hasn’t gone completely senile.”

Touching down on V99, Song Yu held his arms out for Rong Shi to help him into his combat suit.

“If we were mixing personal with public, he wouldn’t be where he is,” Rong Shi said coolly. “He’s not an obstacle. Good news for us, really.”

Seeing him preoccupied, Song Yu asked softly, “Thinking about that boat?”

Rong Shi nodded.

Mentioning a boat meant thinking of rivers or the sea.

Was Jiang Huai hinting there was something on the riverbed or the seafloor here? But the scope was huge.

As they exited the ship, Song Yu mused, “What about an island? Maybe it’s related to an island?”

They were thinking when Old Lin’s shout came from behind.

“That method you mentioned for relieving stress really worked!” Old Lin grinned goofily. “Next time you should come too!”

Rong Shi: “…No need.”

He’d only get depressed if he went.

Old Lin frowned. “You’re not happy?”

Rong Shi deadpanned, “I have a wife. I’m happy every day. I never feel any pressure.”

Old Lin: “…” The hell!

Do you hear yourself?!

__

Author’s Note:
Bunny Rong: The joy of having a wife is beyond your imagination.
The bachelors: Such as?
Bunny Rong: If my wife says head east, I would never head west. [hands on hips]
Everyone: …