Zhong Yun was not a man who failed to grasp the larger picture. He could steel his heart and take a gamble against the Hongxian Federation because he knew its strength was only marginally superior to Davo's, posing no fatal threat to him.

The Ge'an Empire, however, was a completely different matter. Forget Davo; even the Moxi Empire and the Dayun Federation dared not easily offend it.

The Ge'an Empire was unquestionably the supreme power of Aomi, boasting the largest territory, the greatest population, the strongest military might, and the most advanced technology. Any nation facing it could only back off three paces.

Zhong Yun had not only offended this nation but had done so directly against its supreme ruler. Furthermore, it was an offense delivered with absolutely no room for negotiation.

Yet, no matter how much he pondered, Zhong Yun could not fathom why a member of the Ge'an Empire's royal family would travel to the desolate Hongxian Federation, bringing only fifty guards with her.

And why, when surrounded by the army of a mid-level civilization nation, did she not reveal her identity? Had she done so then, the entire Forty-Fifth Fleet would not have dared to lay a single finger on her.

Now, high above and only to be looked up to, she lay near death aboard the Mars. Was this her misfortune, or Zhong Yun's?

When Zhong Yun walked into the main control room with a tight expression, everyone sensed the dense, suffocating anxiety emanating from him.

Zhong Yun’s face was so grim it could frost over; his steps were heavier than usual, mirroring his current state of mind.

Chen Wen was leaning back, eyes closed, rubbing his aching temples. Staring at the panoramic screen for over a dozen hours a day, while not straining his eyes, absorbing the massive flow of information was indeed exhausting to the spirit.

They shouldn't have to be doing this. Xiao Ling managed the enormous Mars and the ten thousand soldiers aboard—their food, drink, and daily necessities—with perfect order; not a single issue had ever arisen.

Zhong Yun was nominally the Captain, but in reality, he just sat there for show, never having to worry about a thing. He sat there daily, looking utterly placid. To outsiders, he appeared to be daydreaming, but he had actually entered the virtual world.

This was a function exclusive to the Mars's main control room, capable of transporting a person into cyberspace without any physical connection.

Although Chen Wen and Zhang Xiao were both meticulously trained direct heirs from prominent families, exposed to numerous fields of knowledge—it wasn't required that they master all, but they needed exposure to various domains. Whether later guiding their family or taking sole command of a venture, these were merely basic competencies.

However, neither of them had ever delved into aerospace control. There was no need. Did an important family member need to know how to pilot an interstellar vessel?

It wasn't genuine interest in aerospace control that drew them, but rather fascination with this ship. This control room was spartan, completely unlike what they had seen before.

The spacecraft they had previously traveled on were about half again the size of a "Wushan-class" warship. They were considerably smaller than the Mars, yet their operations staff—from Captain to interns—totaled over a hundred people, usually rotating in three shifts.

The Mars's main control room was ridiculously simple; even the cockpit of their family's private jet was more complex than this.

It featured only twelve operating stations. Some might mistake it for the cockpit of a large fighter jet. Yet, these twelve stations controlled this colossal vessel capable of housing over a hundred thousand people. To them, this was utterly incredible.

They urgently desired to understand how this uniquely classified vessel operated, which led them to request clearance from Zhong Yun and spend immense mental energy monitoring the Mars's functions daily at the consoles.

Except for Tian Hai, who was purely driven by hobby, the other two harbored subtle personal agendas.

The Mars's automation level was ridiculously high—this was their most immediate realization over these past few days. Most significantly, the optical computer controlling the Mars was far too advanced, possessing a level of intelligence unheard of.

Chen Wen rubbed his temples, easing his strained mind. Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes to the sight of Zhong Yun's face, so dark it seemed ready to drip water.

Chen Wen frowned, instinctively sensing something major had occurred.

At this moment of universal celebration of victory—leading the charge into the capital of their sworn enemy, forcing a treaty at swordpoint, achieving an unprecedented triumph—Zhong Yun should not be wearing such an expression.

The current Zhong Yun looked less like a victorious general and more like one who had been ambushed, losing all his military command.

This situation was clearly highly unusual. Liu Yunqi had mostly emerged from the shadows; at least externally, she had regained her former spirit and poise—that cold, stunning woman who made others feel inadequate was back.

Was he worried about his standing upon returning?

That shouldn't be it. Zhong Yun was no rootless commoner. Not only did his father control a significant energy corporation, but he was also protected by the Yang family. The Yang family, having lost their primary heir, would likely place even greater value on this prospective son-in-law who had achieved immense military glory.

With the Yang family backing him, coupled with the colossal merits he earned in this war, not to mention the savior-like popularity he had garnered among the general populace due to this victory—this war’s success was single-handedly forged by Zhong Yun. Calling him a savior would not be an overstatement.

With these three pillars of support, no one could possibly shake Zhong Yun's position upon his return home.

So, what was he worrying about?

Chen Wen quickly thought of the mysteriously captured woman. Was it because of her? He heard she was ill, and seemingly quite seriously so.

He looked again at Zhong Yun, sitting at the command console with an ever-shifting expression, wondering whether to ask. But Zhong Yun spoke first.

“I think… I might have to run.”

Zhong Yun’s abrupt, context-less statement left Zhang Xiao and Tian Hai bewildered, only Chen Wen’s expression shifted slightly.

Tian Hai frowned. “What nonsense are you talking about? Why would you suddenly need to flee?”

Zhang Xiao glanced thoughtfully at Chen Wen, whose face was grave.

Taking a long breath, Zhong Yun had made up his mind internally, and his demeanor immediately relaxed. No matter how mighty the Ge'an Empire was, he wasn't pushover material. If he couldn't fight them, couldn't he just run?

“That woman—she’s a member of the Ge'an Empire’s royal family.”

This short sentence delivered a psychological shockwave akin to a tsunami to the three present, stunning them into silence. They couldn't utter a word for a long moment.

What the Ge'an Empire represented was something Chen Wen and Zhang Xiao, as scions of prominent families, understood more deeply than the average person.

Every jump point on every administrative planet in Davo, the seven now-destroyed national treasures of Davo’s fleet, the hundreds of spatial sensors Zhong Yun hadn't yet contributed the spatial warp technology for, the ships' spatial jump technology…

In almost every cutting-edge field, the ubiquitous influence of the Ge'an Empire could be seen. Only to maintain face among the common populace was this never publicized in the media. Among the aristocratic families, it was no secret.

Davo's rapid technological advancement, which the Hongxian Federation viewed as its greatest future threat, was inseparable from the relatively lenient attitude of the Ge'an Empire.

If the Ge'an Empire let slip even a little information, it would save Davo decades of arduous development.

For such a nation, even an ordinary Ge'an Imperial Honorary Citizen was someone the entirety of Davo could not afford to offend.

Capturing a royal family member of the Ge'an Empire? The mere thought was enough to induce a feeling of utter madness.

“M-maybe there’s been a mistake?” Tian Hai was the first to react, stammering out, “How could a member of the Ge'an royal family possibly come to the Hongxian Federation? And how could we have captured her so easily?”

“Yes. That’s right,” Tian Hai grew more certain of his guess. “Xiao Yun, you must have mistaken something. She absolutely cannot be a member of the Ge'an royal family.”

After speaking, he looked at Zhong Yun with desperate hope, wishing to hear him say, "I might have truly misjudged this."

Theoretically, Tian Hai was correct. To the advanced civilization that was the Ge'an Empire, a mid-level civilization like Hongxian was an extremely primitive place.

No one would believe that a Ge'an princess would venture to the Hongxian Federation and be captured by a mid-level civilization. It sounded like a cosmic joke.

However, there were always exceptions. If a person like Zhong Yun, a native of Earth, could be reincarnated in the Republic of Davo, billions of light-years from Earth, what couldn't happen?

He desperately wished this wasn't true too, but it was only a wish. To this day, Xiao Ling had never made an error. This time would be no different.

Zhong Yun felt utter bitterness, unable to meet Tian Hai’s increasingly desperate gaze.

“But don't worry. No matter how powerful the Ge'an Empire is, I’m not made of clay. It won’t be so easy for them to catch me.”

Chen Wen and Zhang Xiao remained silent. Although they recognized Zhong Yun’s strength as mysterious and unfathomable, it was incomparable to an advanced civilization.

To deal with a nation like the Hongxian Federation, the Ge'an Empire could wipe it out with a flick of its finger. It was far different from Zhong Yun, who nearly lost his life in the process—how uncertain and precarious that was.

Seeing their solemn faces etched with sorrow, Zhong Yun smiled instead. “Don’t disbelieve me. If I intended to escape, no one in the entire universe could catch me.”

Zhong Yun spoke with a casual air, yet everyone could detect the arrogance blazing in his words. This wasn't the reckless arrogance of ignorance, but confidence rooted in his inherent power.

But Tian Hai and the others couldn't comprehend where this confidence originated. He always seemed to possess it, whether facing Liu Yunqi, a woman capable of making most men feel inadequate, or when initiating the daring surprise attack plan on the Hongxian Federation capital during their darkest hour. Though he always stressed the success rate was only one in ten, they never detected even a sliver of fear in him.

In truth, the three of them always saw Zhong Yun as if through a thick fog. Just when they thought they had grasped the limits of his abilities, not long after, he would deliver another surprise.

Seeing their faces hovering between belief and doubt, Zhong Yun didn't know how to convince them. Such matters were inherently unbelievable. It was as absurd as if one of his close buddies back on Earth told him he had taken down the daughter of the US President and wasn't worried about being hunted by the CIA.

Suddenly, Zhong Yun abruptly turned his head and saw the pale-faced Liu Yunqi standing by the doorway at some point. Her slightly thinner face showed no hint of weakness from her ordeal; her gentle yet distant eyes appeared even clearer.

She spoke just six words, clear and resonant as striking metal: “Where you go, I go.”

Zhong Yun’s brow furrowed, and he flatly refused, “Absolutely not.”

Liu Yunqi looked at him with bright eyes, her pale lips pursed stubbornly. She said nothing, but her unyielding determination was palpable enough to stop nine oxen.

They stared at each other for about five minutes. Finally, Zhong Yun conceded with a silent sigh, intending to say something, but restrained himself.

Liu Yunqi seemed to guess his intention, shook her head, and murmured in a barely audible voice, “Because you need me more than they do.” Then she turned and walked into the room.

Her voice was thin as a mosquito's hum, but Zhong Yun heard it clearly, and he understood that the "they" she referred to were her family. Looking at her retreating figure, a complex, inexpressible emotion stirred in his heart.

“I’m coming too.”

Turning back, he saw Tian Hai’s resolute gaze.

P: Everyone has their lows. The 45th Fleet is currently in one. Staring at the computer every day, the words I manage to churn out are dry and lifeless. I can't help the reduction in word count, so I ask everyone for a little patience. Once this trough passes, I will return every word I owe.