Amidst the galaxy-spanning empire’s unprecedented celebration of victory, the military convened for its post-war review.

The atmosphere in the hall was taut, stretched like a high-strung wire threatening to snap at any moment.

Those seated below remained silent as the grave, not daring to draw a breath. The directors of the various legions seated in the front row were dripping with cold sweat, their faces masks of deep shame.

All the pressure stemmed from their supreme Emperor, the highest commander of the military, Zhong Yun.

Zhong Yun sat high on the dais, his gaze sharp, his face grave as still water.

Yet, everyone present sensed the palpable aura of an impending storm, the pressure so immense it induced trembling.

Anyone could feel the thunderous rage simmering beneath their Emperor’s calm façade. It was only now they truly understood the meaning of, “When the Son of Heaven is angered, a million corpses pile up.”

“You have truly disappointed me,” Zhong Yun finally spoke, unleashing the torrent of anger surging within his chest. “During the war, you forced me, the sovereign ruler of this nation, to personally enter the fray just to deal with the enemy. What good are you people to me? Huh?”

It was understandable that Zhong Yun was furious; throughout the entire war, had it not been for him, the best possible outcome would have been mutual destruction.

After Yi Yunhai annihilated the enemy's main force, they still required him to personally suit up for the assault on the enemy base. He had to sneak aboard and destroy an enemy ‘Planet-class’ warship, then take out the command center to prevent the enemy from forming effective coordination, only then achieving a complete annihilation of the foe at minimal cost.

For commanders of an army to be reduced to personally fighting on the ground—the officers present could just as well commit suicide.

“If I have to fight in every war, what use are the lot of you?” Zhong Yun’s fury grew. He slammed his hand down hard on the table.

No one dared utter a sound below. Under the shadow of Zhong Yun’s explosive wrath, no one dared provoke him. Even Tian Hai, Chen Wen, and Zhang Xiao hung their heads in shame, let alone the others.

“Reflect deeply on your conduct. In one day’s time, I want a written self-criticism from each of you.” With that, Zhong Yun rose and strode out the door.

He left behind a gathering of high-ranking officers too disgraced to show their faces.

“Are you perhaps too harsh on them with that scolding?” In the adjacent room, Yu Daoqing sat opposite Zhong Yun and asked with concern.

At this moment, Zhong Yun was leisurely savoring his tea, a complete contrast to the furious, ashen-faced monarch from moments before. “This bunch has never suffered a significant setback; their tails were practically up to the sky lately. It’s high time they were brought down a peg or two. If they can’t even handle this level of pressure, they should step aside quickly and let me find a new group of officers.”

Yu Daoqing offered a slight smile and let the matter drop. She knew Zhong Yun’s strategy: for the populace, this victory would boost their sense of belonging and honor, so it needed to be heavily publicized. As for the military, having been given too much leeway, they had grown somewhat complacent, and this was the perfect opportunity for him to establish his authority.

Her gaze shifted suddenly. “There is something I haven’t had a chance to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Actually, Xiao Ruo… she is my daughter.” Yu Daoqing looked directly into Zhong Yun’s eyes.

Crack. Zhong Yun’s hand loosened, and the teacup fell to the floor, yet he didn’t seem to notice. He froze completely, and only after a long moment did he stiffly turn his head, his voice raspy, “What you say… is that true?”

Yu Daoqing’s eyes drifted vaguely as she nodded. “I didn’t know either until you showed me that family portrait of yours. That’s when I realized…”

Zhong Yun’s expression cycled through several changes before he finally sighed, “So that’s how it is…”

He recalled her mentioning once that she had a daughter, but he had assumed she was joking. Because she had never brought it up, not even after the incident with Dawo.

And Xiao Ruo had always been intensely private about her origins; whenever the topic arose, she would fall silent. When he had fled after offending the Galian Empire, she had only said her parents were both gone.

Therefore, he had never considered that connection. Even if he were a hundred times smarter, he would never have linked the two women.

Yu Daoqing, Yu Ruo—they were mother and daughter.

“Why wait until now to tell me?” Zhong Yun, after all, was no ordinary man, and he quickly regained his composure. He looked at her intently, “You don’t wish to acknowledge her?”

Yu Daoqing paused for a moment before countering with a question, “Do you care very much?”

“I do care very much,” Zhong Yun did not deny it. “However, this will not affect the relationship between the three of us.”

A spark lit in Yu Daoqing’s eyes. Seeing the unshakable resolve in his gaze, she gave a sudden, brief smile before concealing it again. “Whether I acknowledge her or not, what difference does it make? It might be better for her if she thinks I’m still gone.”

“I can tell your mother-daughter relationship is strained,” Zhong Yun stroked his chin. He suddenly recalled that she had been stranded on the original planet, which he later renamed New Jupiter, for many years. After returning to Dawo, she hadn't stayed long before disappearing again at a base.

Thinking of it that way, Xiao Ruo probably hadn't seen much of her mother. It was understandable if she held some resentment.

Yu Daoqing seemed to read his thoughts and smiled lightly. “Xiao Ruo… she never knew that she wasn't actually my biological daughter?”

Zhong Yun, who had been pondering who Xiao Ruo’s father might be, was stunned by the sudden declaration. “What did you say?”

“Xiao Ruo is not my biological child,” Yu Daoqing’s brow furrowed slightly, as if recalling a distant memory. “More than twenty years ago, an important member of the Jialan Alliance entrusted his daughter to me for safekeeping due to certain reasons. I brought the infant back to Dawo. Not long after, I heard that the member had been killed. So, I adopted her. A few days later, I set sail again and encountered an accident, leaving me stranded on New Jupiter.”

She glanced at Zhong Yun as she spoke, seemingly recalling their meeting there. “After returning to Dawo, I never saw her in person, only her photographs. Seeing that she was living well and that I had not failed her father’s trust, she now believes I am dead, and there is no need for us to meet.”

“I see.” Having heard the entire sequence of events, Zhong Yun understood perfectly. No wonder Yu Daoqing had seemed so detached toward Xiao Ruo; she wasn’t her birth mother and had barely spent any time with her. Naturally, there wasn't much affection built up. Otherwise, unless one was inherently cold-hearted, who wouldn't rush to reunite with their biological daughter standing right before them?

Yu Daoqing had merely been entrusted with her care, and now that task was completely fulfilled.

He thought he would find an opportunity later to slowly resolve Xiao Ruo’s emotional knots. She was right; Xiao Ruo knowing of her existence wouldn't benefit her at all.

Yu Daoqing suddenly flashed a cunning smile. “What if she was my biological daughter? What would you do then?”

Zhong Yun smiled, offering no answer.

P: Readers, think about what plot threads remain untied. If you recall any, please leave a message in the review section.