Chapter 61 You Must Be Careful of Jiang Huaiyan

The pencil lead snapped against the paper.

The person who wrote this intelligence dispatch was Gu Zhen.

Gu Zhen knew he could crack this encryption.

Zhu Shinian's mind went blank for an instant. The broken pencil slipped off the desk, and he fumbled for another pencil to keep decoding, but his hands were shaking too much.

Gu Zhen knew he could crack it...

If Gu Zhen knew he could crack it, then the report he decoded five days ago—wasn't that deliberately planted false intelligence?

...Finish decoding it first. He needed to finish this report first.

No, he should, he should call Major General Qian and the others back first.

They can't go—can't go to the new front line. If the intelligence was a deliberate false lead from Gu Zhen, then the place where Major General Qian and the others were trying to open a new front line would be anything but weak—it'd be a fortress.

His hands were shaking badly. He misdialed the internal extension. The communicator connected fast; he hung up right away, then redialed.

"The intel is false. Turn back now. It's very dangerous there, the defenses are not weak at all..."

"Major General Zhu, this is the Southern Front radio liaison center. We can't turn back now. We've already engaged in open battle with the Empire. Mutual misinformation is common on the battlefield. Don't blame the intel staff for the decode."

"Faulty intelligence, with enemy forces larger than expected—that's an outcome we can accept. In any case, our estimate of total enemy numbers won't be off."

"The purpose of the Southern Front campaign is to relieve pressure on the Eastern Front. We're achieving our objective. Thank you for the timely reminder. We'll adjust our strategy and not push too deep into enemy territory, to avoid extending the front and increasing casualties. Communications are limited on the front. If there's nothing else, I'll end the call here. Take care."

With that, the operator hung up quickly. Zhu Shinian froze for a moment, then picked up the pencil again to finish decoding the rest.

His hand shook slightly. The first few characters came out crooked and messy. It wasn't until the next line that they straightened out.

"I know you're angry with me. I know I did you wrong."

"But you must watch out for Jiang Huaiyan. He's a venomous snake, more cunning than anyone. You must never let your guard down with him or trust him. Never get involved with him."

Zhu Shinian coldly checked the decoding table and moved the pencil to the next line.

Just a few lines left. He didn't know what Gu Zhen was really trying to say.

Was he just warning him to watch out for Jiang Huaiyan?

Gu Zhen must be insane, going to this much trouble now to tell him this.

No matter how deep Jiang Huaiyan's schemes, how calculating he was—did the current Zhu Shinian really need Gu Zhen, who was on the other side, to remind him of that?

It was... too absurd.

"His identity is fake. Everything about him is fake. He's someone you absolutely cannot trust."

"He is not the real Jiang Huaiyan. The real Jiang Huaiyan was killed by him long ago. He is just a slave bought by the Jiang family. He stole someone's identity to get where he is today."

What was he saying?

What did Gu Zhen mean by "he's not the real Jiang Huaiyan"?

He is not Jiang Huaiyan. Then who is he?

He...

At that moment, the communicator on the desk rang. Zhu Shinian, almost mechanically, without thinking, picked it up.

From the earpiece came a voice—warm, clear.

In the silent room, Zhu Shinian could hear the faint static, the other person's steady breathing, and his own heartbeat pounding.

"Shinian... Major General Zhu, were you looking for me just now? I picked up, but you hung up. I tried calling back but it was busy."

Jiang Huaiyan's voice sounded a bit distorted through the receiver. Zhu Shinian was stunned, forgetting for a second to answer.

It must have been when he was calling Major General Qian—he misdialed, and someone picked up quickly, then he hung up.

This timbre, this tone—nothing matched the person in his memory.

His pheromones, his light chestnut eyes like his own, his silhouette, his calloused hands...

Nothing seemed to match.

Why hadn't he recognized him? Why hadn't he told him?

He should have told him long ago. Then Zhu Shinian wouldn't have come to the Resistance for ideals, for justice, for fairness, to fight fate.

Then his illness could have been treated.

Zhu Shinian would have been obedient. He would have stayed in the capital. It wouldn't have mattered if he was the nobility's lapdog, if he was trampled underfoot.

That's how generations of commoners lived. Zhu Shinian was never anything special, never a brave hero willing to fight.

He was just an ordinary person.

As long as he, his brother, and grandma could be a family.

As long as they could be together, as long as he and his grandmother were well, he could take anything.

Low wages were fine. Hard work was fine. Being looked down on was fine. Anything was fine.

Why didn't you tell me? Are you blaming me? For not recognizing you? For becoming the lover and lackey of a noble?

...Blame me for not finding you sooner. It's all my fault—I forgot you had no memories. You couldn't find us.

You've had a hard time all these years, haven't you?

All these years, why have you... had it so hard?

Besides Ning Ye, Gu Zhen, and the Jiang family, who else has bullied you?

Aside from overthrowing the Empire, what other wishes do you have? What else do you want to do? What do you want to eat? Where do you want to go?

What do you like? What don't you like?

In your diary, you said foie gras was delicious. Was it seared foie gras? Did you really like it?

And those salted egg yolk cookies you liked—what brand?

Why did your pheromone level change? Why did your face change at all?

Your pheromone level changed because of secondary differentiation. What else did they do to you that isn't in your diary?

Your face changed—was it deliberately scarred in the fire?

If you hadn't killed the real Jiang Huaiyan, would you have been the one who died?

We didn't abandon you. No, Mom was still saying your name before she died.

Brother.

I've finally... found you again.

"Major General Zhu?" When Zhu Shinian remained silent for a long time after the call connected, the person on the other end prompted.

I've finally found you again.

I will never...

let you die again.

"... Sorry, Director Jiang, I... dialed the wrong number."

"I pressed 6 instead of 9 on the internal line. I meant to call the southern line operator."

"It's fine. It's easy to misdial. I was just worried something happened to you since when I called back, your line was busy. Glad you're fine. Your voice sounds a bit off," the other person said. "Did you catch a cold?"

"... No."

Even though the other couldn't see his expression or movements, Zhu Shinian shook his head needlessly like a child.

When did "Jiang Huaiyan" start caring about him like this—so tender, so cautious, almost ingratiating?

It seemed to be after he asked whether the dead civilian Alpha was his brother.

"No cold... maybe a little, but it's nothing serious."

"You sound congested—that's not nothing. I happen to be at the basement clinic. I'll bring you some cold medicine. What if you get a fever in this weather?"

"Okay..."

Zhu Shinian agreed instinctively. Now, more than ever, he wanted to see Jiang Huaiyan.

To see him, to look at him.

To hear his voice a little longer, to...

"No, don't bother." Zhu Shinian took a few deep breaths, calming his heartbeat and breathing.

"Cold medicine makes me sleepy," he said, shaking his head again where no one could see. "I'll pick some up myself when I get back to my dorm."

"... Okay," Thinking Zhu Shinian didn't want to see him as usual, Jiang Huaiyan tactfully agreed and softly reminded him, "Don't forget, okay?"

"I..."

Zhu Shinian had a lot more to say, but the communicator had already been disconnected.

He paused for a second, then quickly set down the communicator and looked at the map on the wall.

The map was densely marked with various colors and symbols indicating resources, military bases, and troop movements.

The first red line marked the eastern front, the second red line the newly opened southern front.

He picked up a pencil and circled a location he knew by heart.

That area was under Imperial control, not far from the eastern front, and fifty kilometers from the southern front, where the Resistance had fewer troops and faced heavier combat pressure.

If the Imperial army conducted a forced march, they could move troops there within a day.

If they attacked that location, the Imperial army would most likely pull troops from the southern front to defend, which would relieve pressure from Major General Qian's southern front.

The Thirteenth District Fortress, adjacent to the Imperial Medical R&D Center—the very research base Xiao Jin admitted was developing the specific drug for premature gland aging.

Lin Wenyuan was a purely civilian staff member. In Major General Qian's absence, Zhu Shinian had independent decision-making authority for military operations involving fewer than five hundred men and could choose not to inform Deputy Governor Lin Wenyuan and Joint Committee Director Jiang Huaiyan.

Under five hundred men—that was enough.

Zhu Shinian only needed three hundred men.

"Hello, Major General Zhu. This is the 7th XX Division, I'm Li Qianxu, the person in charge. Please give your instructions."

"I'm issuing a temporary mission now," Zhu Shinian commanded calmly. "You take primary command, I'll handle secondary command. We'll use glider paratroop drops. You've seen the mission plan; I'll send you another copy in a moment."

"Understood," Li Qianxu replied crisply, as if he had known all along. "I'll follow your orders."

In the dead of night, the camp was silent. The distant mountains loomed darkly against the horizon. Occasionally, a night breeze swept through, making the flag flutter with a soft sound.

Then a crisp whistle pierced the night over the 7th XX Division dormitory, and the camp instantly buzzed to life.

Well-trained soldiers instantly woke from their sleep and surged like a tide to the drill ground.

They assembled, formed ranks, and stood at attention. Ready to set out.

Author's note: