Boom——as if a comet had struck the earth, the entire planet seemed to erupt skyward, composed of countless clumps of soil, trees, and volcanic ash.

An incomparably vast, egg-shaped object burst from the ground and ascended into the air. Its silver, streamlined exterior was dazzlingly bright.

The Mercury, after being buried beneath the earth for millennia, finally tore through the crust to greet the sun once more. It left behind in the heart of the primeval forest a colossal, bottomless pit, seemingly extending straight to the planet's core.

Once it reached the surface, the Mercury halted mid-air.

The commanding officers, having retreated beyond the safety perimeter, watched the all-silver vessel via panoramic video feed, rendered speechless by shock.

That ship was simply too enormous; it was nearly twice the size of the Stardust, the largest and most advanced warship currently in service with the Mins Kingdom, commissioned just two years prior.

Just as everyone stood mute, a familiar voice cut through the silence. "I told you, you couldn't stop me."

The old man remained silent, still staring blankly at the colossal vessel. Having served his entire life in the military and having witnessed the technology of far more advanced civilizations, he understood the terrifying implications of this ship better than anyone present.

The dazzling silvery-white sheen on the hull was not natural. He knew there was only one reason a surface could achieve such a color: an energy shield.

An energy shield—that was the unmistakable hallmark of a "Planetary-class" battleship.

And "Planetary-class" warships were super-weapons that only high-tier civilizations could construct.

Even the Mins Kingdom's most advanced warship, the Stardust, was merely "Satellite-class." Even if the ship before them was only "Quasi-Planetary," it was still two full tiers higher.

A gap of two tiers meant a chasm in civilizational levels. In terms of time, that translated to a difference of thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of years.

Such a disparity in warfare meant a one-sided slaughter. Even a single tier difference allowed a high-level warship to sweep clean an entire fleet of the lower tier.

Two tiers? There was no point in fighting; surrender was the only option.

These thoughts flashed through the old man’s mind one by one, delivering a massive shock. So profound was the impact that he didn't even register the words spoken by Zhong Yun.

"However, I've changed my mind. Weiwei... she..." Zhong Yun paused briefly before continuing, "She should stay behind. I don't want her to be unhappy for her entire life."

"If I'm honest with myself, I couldn't give up everything to stay for her. Since that's the case, I have no right to demand such a sacrifice from her."

"She's a good girl. Tell her... tell her I was very happy when I was with her..."

As the last word faded, the immense silver ship ascended, quickly shrinking to a mere speck before vanishing. Remaining in its place was only a small shuttlecraft.

The old man was still lost in shock, but some of his subordinates had recovered their senses. They quickly dispatched mechs to carefully retrieve the shuttle. Upon opening it, they confirmed it: Weiwei lay peacefully inside, sleeping like an infant, tear tracks still faintly visible near her eyes.

Weiwei snapped awake from a nightmare, sitting bolt upright and looking around in confusion and alarm. The surroundings were so familiar; this was her room.

The familiarity brought a momentary easing of tension, and she lay back down, her gaze falling upon a cartoon mobile hanging from the ceiling. A smile touched her lips—it was something she had half-forced Zhong Yun to buy when they were pretending to be a couple, walking through the marketplace. It was the only thing Zhong Yun had ever bought her.

The smile froze on Weiwei's face as the memory of Zhong Yun rushed back, flooding her heart with sharp pain.

"Zhong Yun—" she shrieked, scrambling out of bed. Barefoot, she bolted out the door like a person driven mad.

Numerous servants worked in Weiwei's household. Seeing their young mistress suddenly rush out in such a frenzy startled them all. The Master had issued strict orders: the young lady must not step outside the door for any reason. They rushed forward to stop her.

But these servants possessed only rudimentary combat skills; attempting to restrain the nearly Level 20 Weiwei was laughable. One by one, they were left bruised and battered, and a few particularly unlucky ones sustained serious injuries.

Some of the quicker-witted among them, seeing this display, hurried off to report to the Master, realizing that perhaps only he could subdue the young lady now.

The first to arrive was the steward, Rich—the same old man who had led the mech squad to retrieve Weiwei. He was astonished to see the young mistress with her hair disheveled and her expression bordering on delirium. He hurried forward to intercept her. "Young Mistress, what is wrong?"

The moment Weiwei saw him, she seemed to see a true relative. She burst into tears. "They won't let me go to him, boo hoo..."

"What happened?" Rich asked, steadying her while subtly signaling to the others nearby. The servants understood the cue and quickly dispersed.

Rich had watched her grow up. Her father, though deeply fond of her, spent little time at home due to his work, limiting his time with little Weiwei.

It was Rich who was always by her side, guarding her. To Weiwei, Rich felt closer and more benevolent than her own father. When she was little and faced problems she couldn't solve, seeking out Rich always resulted in everything being neatly resolved.

Thus, her feelings for him were extraordinarily deep.

Hearing his question, Weiwei’s sobs intensified until she was gasping for breath. "He... he doesn't want... me anymore, he abandoned me..."

Rich’s face was etched with heartache. Though he hadn't been present for the day’s events, he had heard the reports and knew that the "him" Weiwei spoke of was the young man she had met briefly.

He sighed inwardly. He knew from the way Weiwei looked at that young man that trouble was brewing. If he hadn't been afraid of causing her distress, he would have secretly killed the boy then and there.

Who could have guessed it would culminate in this disaster today? Seeing Weiwei cry so heartbrokenly, he felt as though his own heart was being torn apart.

He had never married or had children; he had no other family. He had always treated Weiwei as his own daughter, and seeing her in such anguish now was unbearable.

"Our Weiwei is so beautiful; he wouldn't abandon you," he could only offer such comfort now.

Perhaps from sheer exhaustion, Weiwei’s crying gradually subsided, reduced to intermittent hiccups. She lifted her head, and a glimmer of light finally returned to her red, swollen eyes. "Really... really?"

"Of course, it's true," Rich soothed, stroking her hair. "In this world, there is no man who wouldn't adore our Weiwei. That Zhong Yun is no exception; he must love you almost to the point of madness. It's just that men ultimately have other duties; they can't stay beside a woman forever."

A thoughtful expression crossed Weiwei's face. "Like Father does."

Rich gazed at her with paternal love and affirmed with certainty, "Yes, just like the Master. Zhong Yun likely had an urgent matter that required his departure. He will certainly return to find you afterward."

Weiwei nodded. "That's right, it must be like that. He said he would take care of me for my whole life." At that moment, a question flickered in her mind: What if he doesn't come back?

"Then I will go find him!" she vowed to herself with absolute certainty.

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