Though Yun Zhong’s voice was soft, it struck Yang Bingchang and the other man like a thunderclap. Even Yang Bingchang, a man known for his iron control, was visibly moved. He stared intently at Yun Zhong, “You can build spatial sensors?”
As Davao’s influence expanded and its territory grew, the deficiency in communication technology became increasingly evident, severely hindering Davao’s progress.
With conventional means, a message sent from one end of Davao to the other would take five years to arrive—a timeline utterly inadequate for their needs.
Yet, there was a highly mature technology in the universe: the spatial sensor. Its ability to communicate instantly, regardless of spatial distance, made it standard equipment for any mid-level civilization nation.
Unfortunately, Davao lacked the means to manufacture spatial sensors. Furthermore, the manufacturing schematics for these devices were classified as top national secrets in every country, strictly forbidden from leaking.
Consequently, even with gifted diplomats like Yu Daoqing, Davao had failed to acquire this technology.
It could be said that the technology for manufacturing spatial sensors was precisely what Davao needed most urgently. One president had even publicly declared that whoever invented this technology would be awarded the title of A-Class Contributor.
Aside from the initial thousand spatial sensors sponsored by the G’an Empire, they could only purchase a few meager units annually on the Free Star.
To date, the entirety of Davao possessed fewer than three thousand spatial sensors. Even military regions, warships, government facilities on residential planets, and resource planets could not be fully equipped.
If they could manufacture these sensors themselves, it would propel Davao’s strength forward with a qualitative leap.
As the patriarch of the Yang family, the behind-the-scenes decision-maker for the military, and an elite within Davao’s ruling class, Yang Bingchang naturally understood the critical importance of spatial sensors to the nation.
This was why, upon hearing Yun Zhong utter that name, he displayed such intense excitement, forgetting his usual composure.
Yang Yunrong also fixed his gaze tightly on Yun Zhong. Though he headed the mecha division, he was also a core member of the corporation and intimately aware of the Research Department’s situation. Their research into spatial sensors had never ceased.
To this day, the Research Department—representing the pinnacle of Davao’s technological advancement—had dismantled over three hundred spatial sensors, yet they still could not decipher their working principles.
This exceeded Davao’s current scientific grasp. It was different from the "Zhong’s Stabilizer" or "Cloud Alloy." While those two were epoch-making inventions, they were fundamentally built within Davao’s existing scientific framework. Even if Yun Zhong hadn't invented them, someone else likely would have within a few years.
Therefore, though Yang Yunrong had been astonished by Yun Zhong’s luck at the time, he wasn’t surprised by the invention itself. Such precedents existed in the history of invention; one could only say he was fortunate.
The fabrication of "Zhong’s Stabilizer" and "Cloud Alloy" was not overly complex; a student specializing in electronic mechanics or metal synthesis could produce them after understanding the principles.
Inventing the spatial sensor, however, was an entirely different concept—it was as fantastical as creating an atomic bomb within the Newtonian system.
Seeing their expressions, Yun Zhong knew he had won; this was a condition they could not refuse. “The Zhong Group possesses the complete technology. If you have the intention to purchase, you can negotiate with them.”
Yang Bingchang’s eyes flickered a few times, and his expression gradually returned to normal. He had understood Yun Zhong’s terms: first, exemption from the front lines; second, the advancement of the Zhong Group.
This young man certainly possessed the substance to back his arrogance.
In the ensuing silence, they finally reached their destination, and the aircraft began its descent.
It was a small grove atop a mountain. The plane settled onto a clearing in the center of the woods. As Yun Zhong stepped out, he immediately felt a penetrating chill, and the air seemed significantly thinner.
It was a towering coniferous forest; the treetops were blanketed in white snow, and the ground was slick with ice, promising a slip with any misstep.
Glancing around, he saw no signs of habitation. He tugged Yang Yunrong’s sleeve, “Does the Old Marshal live here?”
“Yes,” Yang Yunrong replied distractedly, seemingly preoccupied with his own thoughts.
Yang Bingchang, clearly familiar with the route, walked ahead. Yun Zhong quickly followed, then noticed something amiss. Turning back, he saw that everyone except Yang Yunrong had remained near the aircraft.
Yang Bingchang’s voice drifted back from ahead, “My father dislikes being disturbed by outsiders.”
Yun Zhong grew even more curious. This Old Marshal—why live on this desolate mountaintop instead of in a comfortable, modern dwelling? And he disliked meeting people. Could the legendary hero who saved the nation truly be a supreme recluse?
Lost in thought, Yun Zhong realized the path was narrowing, eventually dissolving entirely into the primeval forest. There was no trail, not even a manageable patch of ground.
Were the father and son planning to murder him for his wealth? The thought surfaced in Yun Zhong’s mind.
After walking a short distance further, they finally spotted a rather rudimentary dwelling.
Yang Bingchang and his son stopped and told Yun Zhong, “Go in by yourself. Father is waiting inside.”
Yun Zhong looked at the wooden cabin, then back at Yang Bingchang, finally confirming the man was serious. The legendary Old Marshal, who had single-handedly turned the tide and rescued the nation from crisis, resided in this simple shack.
It was the kind of structure one would only expect to find as a set piece in a movie or a museum exhibit.
Yun Zhong slowly approached the door. When he looked back, the Yang father and son remained rooted to the spot. He reached out, pushed the door, and it swung open—it had been ajar.
“Is anyone home?” Yun Zhong called out before stepping inside. The interior of the cabin was dim; he could only see that it appeared empty of everything.
“Come in,” a voice, old and oddly modulated, reached his ears.
Yun Zhong swallowed, stepping cautiously inside. For some reason, the atmosphere felt bizarre, like being in a horror film, which made him tense up.
As he entered, the aged voice spoke again. “Open the door on your left.”
Yun Zhong glanced left. There stood a black door. He walked over and pushed it open. The room beyond was even darker, and he made out a shadowy figure seated within.
“Are you… Old Marshal Yang?” Yun Zhong asked cautiously, one foot still outside the threshold.
“You’re the brat who has my granddaughter worried sick, unable to eat or rest,” the voice boomed, full of vigor that made Yun Zhong’s eardrums ache slightly.
“If you’re coming in, then come in. Stop dithering,” the voice commanded again.
He seemed harmless, so Yun Zhong finally stepped fully inside. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he finally saw the appearance of this legendary figure.
His hair was streaked with white, and his unkempt, scraggly beard made him look somewhat slovenly. Most striking were his eyes—peculiar orbs that emitted a faint, milky-white glow.
Yun Zhong had never seen anyone with white irises; it was unsettlingly strange.
“The boy is quite good,” as Yun Zhong assessed the old man, the elder was appraising him in turn. “When I was your age, I didn't have a third of your strength.”
The old man made no effort to hide his admiration for Yun Zhong. “However, that doesn’t mean your strength will reach my level in the future. You will understand later: talent does not equate to—”
Yun Zhong fought the urge to roll his eyes. He already knew that. Speaking of talent, he was just an ordinary person with none whatsoever. Had it not been for Xiao Ling, he would never have cultivated his core essence and would still be a mundane person without any special abilities.
Of course, he couldn't disclose these matters to the old man before him.
“Qi’er has good taste. With your qualities, you are worthy of her,” Yang Tianlie was clearly pleased with his prospective grandson-in-law.
This was the first time Yun Zhong had ever heard someone say he was worthy of Liu Yunqi. He was inwardly delighted, thinking the elder had excellent judgment.
“But if you want to marry her, you still have to get past me.”
“Ahem,” Yun Zhong coughed lightly, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Isn’t it a bit early to discuss this? We are only seventeen this year.”
“Seventeen is the prime age of vigor,” Yang Tianlie seemed to have been craving conversation after a long silence, becoming quite talkative with Yun Zhong. “However, you absolutely cannot touch Qi’er before the age of twenty-five.”
Yun Zhong was utterly stunned by this statement. Having an old man tell him, “Do not touch my granddaughter,” felt incredibly bizarre.
“This…” He genuinely didn't know what to say.
“Don't think I’m joking,” Yang Tianlie was clearly not so bored. “Qi’er is very special… In short, remember this: absolutely no physical contact with her before she turns twenty-five. Otherwise, the consequences will be severe.”
Yun Zhong looked at the legendary elder; the man’s expression confirmed he was deadly serious. He then recalled how Yun Qi had repeatedly rebuffed his affections—it seemed there was a hidden reason.
Still, Yun Zhong doubted he had the resolve to endure until twenty-five.
“Don’t worry, I’m not telling you to be celibate,” Yang Tianlie saw through Yun Zhong’s thoughts instantly. “A man understands. You can keep women outside. Just don't ever bring them home.”
Yun Zhong felt numb. After a long moment, he managed to ask in a raspy voice, “Old Marshal, did you summon me just to discuss this matter?”
“We’ve finished family affairs. Now, let’s discuss state matters.” The Old Marshal’s mass of white hair trembled slightly. “The Hongxian Federation and we have an intertwined history of enmity. Due to our geographical position, unless one is strong and the other weak, conflict is inevitable.”
Yun Zhong listened quietly, eager to hear how this legendary elder analyzed the coming war.
“In terms of raw power, the Hongxian Federation holds an overwhelming advantage. The only reason this conflict has been delayed is public opinion. The Federation is extremely democratic; its president cannot achieve much without popular support. This time, by exploiting the Silver Star Mine incident, they inflamed public hatred, allowing them to smoothly pass the declaration of war.”
Having said this, Yang Tianlie suddenly asked Yun Zhong, “In this war, who do you think will claim the ultimate victory?”
P: A new week has begun; please cast your recommendation votes. I highly recommend another book, Seize the Day (Book ID: 1293264), an urban supernatural novel about a college junior racing against time from campus into society!!!! Don’t miss it, you’ll regret it if you skip it!!!!