Zhong Yun had made up his mind and immediately began discussing the details of the operation with Xiao Ling. It required little strenuous thought from Xiao Ling; Zhong Yun would grasp the overall direction, while Xiao Ling would devise the specific actions, ensuring a clear division of labor.

Xiao Ling, being the supreme intelligence, possessed unparalleled logical capabilities, allowing him to account for every variable and utilize all external conditions to formulate a plan that was utterly seamless and comprehensive. Even if a single element went awry, contingency measures were already in place. In short, it was foolproof.

The Ge Empire’s fleet comprised only a few dozen ships, making it impossible to completely blockade the entire planet. Their real reliance was on their immensely powerful detection arrays. With these, they could spot approaching enemies from a vast distance and then leisurely move in to intercept.

This provided an opportunity for Zhong Yun. Where there was powerful detection, there would inevitably arise stealth technology capable of countering it. Given the size of the Mercury, the chances of approaching undetected while in stealth mode were too slim. However, if it were merely a small, diminutive craft, the odds would be significantly better.

A small piece of debris floating in space, as it passed near the planet Vol, was suddenly drawn in by Vol’s gravity, breaking its orbit and beginning an arc toward the world.

Its speed increased relentlessly until it plunged into the atmosphere, igniting upon friction with the air, transforming into a dazzling meteor.

Such occurrences of celestial bodies being naturally drawn into a planet were common, attracting no attention from the Ge Empire fleet. A surveillance officer spotted the meteor, discerned nothing unusual, and paid it no further mind.

“Look, a shooting star.”

On the outskirts of Vol City, under the night sky, a couple gazed upwards at the stars in a park. The young woman’s eyes lit up, and she pointed excitedly toward the horizon.

“It really is a shooting star,” the boyfriend exclaimed. Like children, they shouted and jumped; the meteor vanished in an instant, but they continued to shriek, and as they did, tears streamed down both their faces simultaneously.

On such a beautiful night, how many more moments like this could they enjoy?

After entering the atmosphere, the meteor’s flames died down, revealing the true nature of the debris. It was somewhat larger than normal. As it skimmed over a stretch of forest, the object abruptly split apart. The smaller piece continued its descent, while the larger section halted in mid-air.

The dim moonlight silhouetted the shape of the “meteor.” It was clearly not debris at all, but unmistakably an aircraft.

The craft landed silently in a clearing within the woods. A hatch opened, and three figures emerged, clad in protective suits. The trio descended to the ground, and their helmets split open, revealing three young faces.

The leader, his expression stern, addressed the other two. “We don't have much time; we must hurry. I’ll take the lead. We’ll meet at the designated location.” With that, he leaped into the air.

The remaining two figures flashed onward, bursting out of the woods with incredible speed.

The Yang Residence. Yang Bingchang sat alone in his room, deep in contemplation.

The room exuded an antique atmosphere; an incense burner on the desk emitted tendrils of fragrant smoke from the burning aromatic wood meant to sharpen the mind.

“Uncle Yang, long time no see.”

A voice suddenly resonated in the room, causing Yang Bingchang’s face to pale in shock. The door was locked; how could someone appear soundlessly?

In an instant, his mind raced through several possibilities, and his right foot subconsciously shifted twenty centimeters to the right.

He looked up, and as he did, his pupils constricted, and he gasped, “It’s you.”

Standing before him was a person whose ordinary young face was identical to how it had been six years ago, only his eyes were now infinitely deeper.

“It is I,” the young man bowed slightly. “I come on behalf of Yunqi to send her regards.” This individual was Zhong Yun, who had secretly infiltrated Vol.

Hearing his daughter mentioned, a wave of surprised joy washed over Yang Bingchang’s face. “Yunqi—is she… is she well?” The words trembled slightly as they left his lips.

“She is very well,” Zhong Yun replied, looking at his future father-in-law and sighing inwardly; the man had aged.

Yang Bingchang was, after all, no ordinary person. After his momentary lapse, his expression regained its composure. “When did you return?”

“Just now. I rushed over as soon as I heard the news, but I fear I was a step too late,” Zhong Yun sighed.

Yang Bingchang’s eyes brightened, then complicated. “Why did you come back?”

Zhong Yun fell silent for a moment. “This is still my country. Within my capacity, I wish to do something for it.”

“You shouldn't have come. The Empire is not something you can deal with,” Yang Bingchang said with a wry smile. He remembered how Dawo had treated him six years ago; though under pressure from the Ge Empire, the matter of harming a meritorious official weighed heavily on their conscience.

In truth, Dawo owed Zhong Yun, not the other way around. To risk such danger to return at this critical juncture—this spirit inspired deep admiration in Yang Bingchang.

Faced with guilt and thinking of his daughter, he genuinely wanted what was best for Zhong Yun at that moment, which was why he urged him to leave. Such sincere concern was extremely rare for someone of Yang Bingchang’s temperament.

“They’ve been hunting me for six years, and still, they can’t catch me?” Zhong Yun chuckled, then paused, his tone growing heavy. “But my strength is limited; I cannot save Dawo. I can only try to ensure the seeds of Dawo continue, that they do not perish.”

Yang Bingchang froze at this, looking at Zhong Yun in disbelief. He urgently asked, “What do you mean?”

“Within three days, two million people. That is my limit; I can only take that many. No more. Please, make arrangements quickly.”

A tumultuous wave surged in Yang Bingchang’s heart, but he had no time for hesitation. He slammed the table. “Good! I will make arrangements immediately!” He stood up as if to leave right then.

As he neared the door, Zhong Yun’s voice stopped him. “I never hated you.” Yang Bingchang paused, then strode out the door.

Zhong Yun’s form flickered, vanishing from his spot. When he reappeared, he was already outside the Yang residence. This was not teleportation or any mentalist ability, merely movement so fast the naked eye could not track it.

This was the newly mastered ‘Flash’ Technique (Shan Zi Jue). Its greatest strength lay in its ability to move rapidly and silently. When an object accelerates to a certain speed, cutting through the air generates noise. But the ‘Flash’ Technique does not; even breaking the sound barrier multiple times, it remains utterly silent—truly marvelous.

It was the most supreme skill among the Garan martial arts.

After seeing Yang Bingchang, Zhong Yun did not linger but flew toward Vol City.

Mingzhu Villa. In one of the rooms of the most prime courtyard, Chen Wen lay restlessly on his bed, unable to sleep. He was deeply troubled by the current situation but felt utterly powerless. He had been plagued by insomnia for days.

Suddenly, his expression tightened, and he sprang off the bed, floating silently to the door. A ball of faint, blue-green flame ignited in his palm, poised to strike the entrance.

“Is this how you welcome an old friend?” A hearty voice called out from beyond the door.

Chen Wen’s spirit jolted. He instinctively tried to retract his hand, but the flame had already been launched and could not be recalled. He shouted, “Watch out—”

Just as his warning left his lips, the door flew open, and a figure stepped inside, walking straight into the ball of blue-green fire.

Chen Wen was aghast. He knew the destructive power of his flame, capable of melting a hole through the most heat-resistant hull of a spaceship. A single spark touching a person could mean death.

Zhong Yun’s face remained unchanged as he stepped through the doorway. The flame, about to engulf him, vanished without a trace in an instant.

Chen Wen’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. He watched the flame disappear without warning, not even seeing the other person make a gesture.

Faint moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating the face of the man standing there. Who else could it be but Zhong Yun, missing for six years?

“Zhong Yun—” Chen Wen had never imagined seeing him again at this moment. He raised his fist and hammered Zhong Yun’s shoulder forcefully. “You’re finally back!”

“Yes, I am finally back.” Zhong Yun grasped Chen Wen’s hand, an overwhelming sense of relief flooding him.

With their long-awaited reunion, the two had endless things to say.

Chen Wen had turned on the room lights. He studied Zhong Yun carefully. Six years had made him taller and more mature.

“If Xiao Hai knew you were back, I don’t know how happy he would be.” Reunited with his old friend, all of Chen Wen’s worries evaporated, and his face radiated a vitality not seen in days.

Chen Wen immediately dialed Tian Hai. Tian Hai had already gone to bed and sounded slightly surprised by the call. To give Tian Hai a surprise, Chen Wen only said he needed to see him urgently and asked him to come to his room immediately.

He then notified Zhang Xiao, asking him to come over as well.

Tian Hai and Zhang Xiao were also staying nearby, though not in the same courtyard, so it would take a little time for them to arrive.

Zhong Yun was keenly observing the furnishings when Chen Wen finished the call. “Your progress in strength has been remarkable in six years.”

“No matter how remarkable, it can’t compare to you,” Chen Wen said with a wry smile. He thought his own progress had been astonishing, but he realized he still lagged far behind Zhong Yun, perhaps for the rest of his life.

“How did you neutralize my flame just now?” Chen Wen asked the question that had been burning in his mind. To see his ultimate weapon dissolved so effortlessly left him utterly bewildered.

“It’s nothing special, just using energy to neutralize it,” Zhong Yun said dismissively.

Chen Wen’s surprise deepened. He knew exactly how much immense energy his flame contained; it could be called indestructible, capable of scorching even battle-class abilities. To neutralize it so casually seemed impossible.

“How did you detect me?” Zhong Yun found it strange. He had used a decoder to hack Vol’s central mainframe and located Chen Wen’s signature, but before he even reached this small courtyard, Chen Wen had already perceived him. Zhong Yun was fast and silent; even Yang Bingchang hadn’t noticed him. While Chen Wen’s progress was fast, his strength still fell short of Yang Bingchang’s.

Chen Wen smiled faintly. “When I broke through to Level Ten, I awakened a new ability: sensing the strength and circulation of energy within a living body. From far away, I sensed an energy as vast as a sun rapidly approaching.”

Zhong Yun clicked his tongue in wonder. Awakening a new ability during a breakthrough was a phenomenon occurring perhaps once in ten million cases, and Chen Wen had stumbled upon it.

As they spoke, the doorbell chimed. Tian Hai’s voice came through. “Xiao Wen, why call me so late? Can’t you say what’s urgent over the phone? Why make me rush over?”

Chen Wen smiled at Zhong Yun, opened the door, and a slightly overweight figure walked in. “I said, Xiao Wen…” The voice cut off abruptly. He stared fixedly at Zhong Yun standing in the room, his mouth opening wider and wider.

“Zhong Yun—” Tian Hai was followed by Zhang Xiao. They arrived almost simultaneously, and Zhang Xiao’s reaction was a mixture of shock and joy, mirroring Chen Wen’s.

“Good to see you.” With all three friends present, Zhong Yun’s heart soared, and the smile on his lips widened.

“Hmph—” Tian Hai suddenly exhaled, then lunged toward Zhong Yun, grabbing his collar and shoving him hard.

Bang!

Zhong Yun slammed against the wall behind him.

“What are you doing?” “Are you crazy?” Chen Wen and Zhang Xiao were startled by Tian Hai’s sudden violence and rushed to pull him off.

“Let me go! I’ll beat this heartless bastard to death!” Tian Hai struggled fiercely, his eyes bloodshot, roaring loudly.

Zhong Yun, caught off guard, hit the wall. Although not seriously injured, he felt a sharp pain. Tian Hai had put his full strength into the push.

He couldn't help but offer a bitter smile. Tian Hai’s temper was still fiery; perhaps leaving him behind back then was the root of this lingering resentment.

He walked to stand before Tian Hai. “If you want to hit me, hit me. I will not fight back. Chen Wen, Zhang Xiao, let him go.”

Chen Wen and Zhang Xiao exchanged a glance, hesitated, and then released Tian Hai. Tian Hai glared at Zhong Yun, his eyes red, for a moment, but he did not strike. He grumbled, “You tell me to hit you, so I won't. That’s that.”

Zhong Yun smiled; the issue seemed settled.

Seeing that they were no longer fighting, Zhang Xiao cheered, “Yun is back today! We must celebrate properly!”

“Celebrate what? It’s better that he didn’t come back, saves us the frustration of looking at him,” Tian Hai muttered resentfully.

Zhong Yun ignored the retort and addressed Chen Wen and the others. “We’ll celebrate later. The situation is urgent now. Let’s discuss how to get out of here.”

“Leave?” Chen Wen frowned. “The entire planet Vol is blockaded by the Ge Empire fleet. How can we leave?”

“If I could enter, I naturally have a way to leave,” Zhong Yun said. “Go home immediately and contact all your relatives, as many as you can reach. Three days from now, gather at the eastern suburbs of Mingzhou City or Vol City. We will leave Dawo together then.”

“Is there truly no hope for Dawo…” Zhang Xiao couldn't help but ask.

Zhong Yun shook his head gravely. “This is all I can possibly do.”

Zhang Xiao’s eyes dimmed. Chen Wen patted Zhang Xiao’s shoulder in comfort.

Time was limited. Under Zhong Yun’s urging, Tian Hai and the other two left quickly to notify their relatives.

Then Zhong Yun also departed; there was still time that could not be wasted. He went to notify a few more people, old acquaintances with whom he had maintained good relations.

Three days passed in a flash.

Zhong Yun checked the time; it was exactly when he and Xiao Ling had agreed upon. He donned his protective suit, took a deep breath, and his body shot upward, rocketing toward the sky.

The wind whistled past his ears, and Zhong Yun’s face stung from the friction. With a thought, a layer of purple light enveloped him, warding off contact with the air.

Zhong Yun flew higher and higher, quickly ascending into the stratosphere. The thin air and icy cold had no effect on him; he headed straight for the exosphere.

Zhong Yun suddenly felt his body slow, a tremendous resistance appearing. His heart jolted; he knew he had pierced the upper atmosphere. The purple light around him brightened, and his speed increased slightly. Like a purple needle, Zhong Yun’s body pierced the atmospheric layer. His body felt lighter, and all pressure vanished.

Simultaneously, the consumption of Yuan energy multiplied exponentially. Zhong Yun’s spirit sharpened. Although he could now move freely in space, if his Yuan energy ran out, only death awaited.

Zhong Yun dared not delay, flying rapidly toward the location of the Mercury.

A tiny human body in the vastness of space was no different from a speck of dust. Furthermore, the Ge Empire fleet did not believe that a nation only recently entering Intermediate Civilization would possess anyone above Yuan Level Four. Zhong Yun successfully slipped through the Ge Empire fleet’s blockade.

Even though he wore a protective suit, this was the first time Zhong Yun had been so exposed to outer space. He was riddled with anxiety, flying with sheer nerve the entire way—a truly terrifying experience.

He finally managed to fly back to the Mercury. As his feet touched the deck, Zhong Yun’s legs felt weak, but his heart settled with immense relief. He swore he would never fly in outer space again; that feeling of utter lack of purchase was simply too dreadful.

Back in the main control room, Zhong Yun composed himself and checked the time again; it matched the plan perfectly. After several deep breaths, he closed his eyes to adjust. A few seconds later, his gaze regained its cold focus.

“Execute,” Zhong Yun ordered the moment the time arrived.

The Ge Empire fleet’s alertness was not very high. This planet, to them, was no more threatening than an ant. They could casually send down a single warship to sweep the entire world. Against such an enemy, even the most vigilant would inevitably grow lax.

The sudden destruction of two ‘Super-Satellite’ class warships threw the Ge Empire fleet into utter chaos. No one was mentally prepared for an attack.

It was not entirely their fault. Vol was deep within Dawo territory, surrounded by several administrative planets. They had received no warning signals from other worlds.

They never imagined that someone as monstrously capable as Zhong Yun could infiltrate the heartland without alerting the perimeter, catching them completely off guard. This was, in fact, Zhong Yun’s specialty.

Zhong Yun had initially intended to destroy the enemy flagship in one blow, but the structure of a ‘Quasi-Planet’ class vessel was too unique; destroying it with a single strike was practically impossible. He had to settle for the next best option: taking out the minor threats first.

Zhong Yun’s first engagement with the Ge Empire had officially begun.

P: My pace has slowed significantly these last few days; I sincerely apologize. I won’t elaborate further, but I promise to write diligently. Everyone, please read on. First Release