Chapter 56: You lost my brother?

The silence that followed was heavier than the rubble they were digging through. All eyes turned to the wasteland of twisted metal and charred debris. The ruins loomed like a graveyard, mocking their futile hope.

Three days and three nights. That’s how long the rescue team clawed through the wreckage, slogging through mountains of death and carnage, DNA-scanning every corpse they found. Three hellish days, and not a trace of Shao Ye.

Yu Mo, his composure a thin veneer over his rising panic, tried to force some optimism into the suffocating air. "No body means he’s still alive. He has to be. That’s... that’s something, right?" But his voice cracked, betraying the doubt eating him alive.

The rest of the squad glanced at Lu Zhanxing, who stood motionless, staring into the wreckage as if willing it to give him the one person he couldn’t lose. They wanted to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t over yet, but every word they thought of turned to ash in their throats.

And then came the brutal truth none of them dared to say aloud: You lost him.

For three relentless days and nights, Lu Zhanxing didn’t so much as close his eyes. He clawed his way through the ruins, bare-handed, ripping apart piles of shattered bones and rotting flesh, one after another, refusing to stop for even a second.

His hands were torn to ribbons, blood dripping freely, but his eyes—wild and burning with obsession—never wavered.

And then, finally, in that chaotic wasteland, he found it. A single silver ring, faintly glowing, buried beneath the carnage.

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, the crimson light of dusk bled across the wreckage, painting the ruins like a battlefield slaughter. That ring, glinting weakly in the dying sunlight, was like a blade slicing through his chest, sharp and merciless.

Lu Zhanxing’s voice, hoarse and cold, finally broke the silence. “How’s the fourth-gen mecha production going at the factory?”

Lai Xueluan pulled up her virtual display with a flick of her wrist, her tone clipped. “Barely started. Thirty units assembled, but the weapons systems are incomplete. Right now, those mechs are nothing more than oversized paperweights.”

Lu Zhanxing didn’t even blink. His gaze remained locked on the ring in his palm, flames of rage and purpose flaring in his bloodshot eyes. His tone was ice.

“As long as they can jump through space, they’ll do. Tell the factory to ship every assembled unit immediately. Pick thirty from the First Strike Team to stand by.”

The room froze. Everyone’s breath hitched, a suffocating sense of dread creeping in like a stormcloud ready to burst.

Yu Han stepped forward, his face set like stone. “Boss, what’s the plan?”

Lu Zhanxing finally lifted his head. The red webbing of veins across his eyes was stark, his expression a mask of sheer brutality. He grit his teeth, voice low and venomous.

“We’re storming the rebels’ lair.”

*

Two days later.

Inside the rebel army’s camp, chaos reigned.

“Where the hell is Lu Xinglan? Why hasn’t he reported in yet?” Shao Lan barked, storming out of the chemical lab, peeling off her protective gear as she went. She shot the question over her shoulder to her assistant, her sharp voice cutting through the din.

“That bastard decided to act on his own, took out a regular military transport ship, and trashed twelve of our mechs in the process! If he’s gone AWOL to avoid the fallout, I want to know exactly where that traitor thinks he can hide.”

The assistant was trembling like a leaf in a storm, his hands fumbling as he projected surveillance footage onto the virtual screen. His voice quivered. “Commander, before Lu Xinglan left the base, he had a private meeting with Boss Bai. It lasted half an hour, and they were out of surveillance range the entire time. Even the guards didn’t catch what they discussed.”

Shao Lan’s elegant brows knit tightly, her phoenix-like eyes narrowing as suspicion flickered across her face. “Boss Bai? Him? I almost forgot about that old fox. Where is he now? Take me to him.”

The assistant led Shao Lan to Boss Bai’s quarters, stopping just outside the door.

“You all wait here. I’ll handle this myself,” she snapped, stepping inside with a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

The bodyguards and assistants, all professionally trained, snapped into action, stationing themselves just outside the door, ready for anything.

Shao Lan didn’t hesitate, striding straight into the room. Inside, it was chaos—shattered remnants of a tantrum littered the floor. Yet, there sat Boss Bai, still in his wheelchair, turned away from her. He seemed transfixed, staring silently through the barred window at the sky like some contemplative sage.

She stopped a few paces away, her voice cool but sharp as a blade. “You summoned Lu Xinglan. Then, poof, he vanishes. Boss Bai, I’ve clearly underestimated you. Even in this sorry state, you still find ways to stir up trouble for me. Color me impressed.”

Boss Bai twitched—barely—but didn’t respond.

Shao Lan inhaled deeply, forcing down the simmering rage threatening to boil over. “Tell me, am I too soft on you? Is that it? Because you’ve got some nerve, screwing with my plans over and over. Here’s the deal: start talking—truthfully—while you still have a chance to avoid some very creative consequences. Or don’t. You already know what happens when my patience runs out.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, storming forward and yanking his wheelchair around with a ferocious grip.

But her confidence shattered in an instant.

Boss Bai’s hands were tied tightly to the armrests, his mouth sealed shut with thick tape.

Her instincts screamed at her—danger was closing in fast, suffocating her senses like a riptide.

And then, cold steel pressed against the back of her head.

“Don’t move,” a low, threatening voice growled behind her.

Her jaw clenched as recognition hit like a sucker punch. “Lu Zhanxing,” she spat, venom lacing every syllable. “You’ve got the audacity to show your face here?”

The man who’d stolen her brother and ruined everything. Fury ignited inside her, white-hot and unrelenting. Gun or no gun, she wasn’t about to let him walk away unscathed. Her mind raced, calculating the moves it would take to disarm him and snap his neck.

But before she could act, a sudden flash of red light caught her eye—laser sights, dozens of them, dancing across her body.

Lu Zhanxing pulled his gun away and stepped into view, his gaze a mix of ice and something darker. “I promised Ah Ye I’d try not to hurt you.”

At the mention of her brother, Shao Lan’s fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms. Her glare sharpened, dripping with lethal intent. “Don’t you dare bring up my brother here. Your fake sympathy makes me sick.”

Unfazed, he cut straight to the point. “Where is Ah Ye?”

The question blindsided her. She stared, then scoffed, her eyes blazing with contempt. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? It’s been three months, seventeen days, and twelve hours since I last saw him. Isn’t he off in Imperial Star playing house with you, popping out babies? Now you’re here asking me what’s going on?”

His eyes narrowed, hawk-like and unrelenting, searching hers for any sign of deceit. “So you’re saying Ah Ye isn’t with you?”

Her fury flared, but something in his tone stopped her cold.

Her breath hitched. “What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded, her voice rising. “Don’t tell me—you lost him?!”

Lu Zhànxīng felt like every ounce of energy had been ripped out of him in an instant. His voice barely above a whisper, he shot back with a question that cut deep, “Five days ago, the transport warship heading from the Seventh Star System to the Imperial Capital, wasn’t it shot down by the rebel forces? Ah Ye was on it.”

Shaò Lán froze, a terror unlike anything she had ever known surging through her veins. Her tone shifted involuntarily, a tremor of panic lacing her words, “Five days ago? That wasn’t me… I didn’t give that order… Lu Xīnglán acted on his own.”

The mention of Lu Xīnglán made Lu Zhànxīng stiffen. He paused, eyes narrowing as he continued, voice low and controlled, “We never found Shaò Yé’s body among the wreckage of the ship. He’s gone. If Lu Xīnglán was the one behind this, and he’s now under your command, you tell me—where would he go? Don’t you know?”

At that, Shaò Lán’s gaze shifted, her eyes landing on the pale man in the wheelchair, the Boss Bai. Instantly, her expression turned icy, as if the very air around her had dropped ten degrees. Her voice was a lethal whisper, “I’ll find out where he’s hiding.”

Without hesitation, she stalked toward the Bai Bai, ripped the tape off his mouth with ruthless efficiency.

He let out a long, relieved breath and slowly lifted his eyes, locking gazes with both Lu Zhànxīng and Shaò Lán. His expression was a mockery, a taunting smile stretching across his face before his laughter broke out—sharp and hollow, echoing painfully in the room.

Shaò Lán’s fury boiled over at the sound. She grabbed the Boss Bai by the chin, the force of her grip threatening to snap his jaw in half. Her words dripped with venom, “The moment anything happens to my brother, you’ll beg for death, and I’ll make sure you never get the mercy of it.”

The Boss Bai was the kind of man who had already felt the full weight of life’s cruelty—he wasn’t about to be intimidated by empty threats. In fact, seeing both Lu Zhànxīng and Shaò Lán so enraged, so vulnerable in their panic, filled him with a twisted satisfaction.

A smirk danced on his lips, but it was short-lived. The corner of his mouth began to bleed, and with a grimace, he licked the blood away, his face twisting into an expression of bitter amusement.

“Yeah, Ah Ye was taken by Lu Xīnglán,” he rasped weakly. “I only told him Ah Ye was on that ship. As for what happened after that... where he went... I have no idea.”

“You—!” Lu Zhànxīng’s fist clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.

He had been about to demand how the Boss Bai knew of Shaò Yé’s whereabouts, but then he remembered: the Boss Bai had eyes and ears everywhere. For years, since Shaò Yé’s disappearance, they had planted spies at every major port across the eight stars, all reporting back on any movement, any clue to where Shaò Yé might be. Even now, though the Boss Bai was almost crippled, shackled in this prison, he still had loyal informants working for him in the shadows.

And what could happen to Shaò Yé now that he was in Lu Xīnglán’s hands? The possibilities were too chilling to contemplate.

Lu Zhànxīng knew better than anyone that he had personally killed Lu Xīnglán’s lover, and his alliance with Shaò Lán was born out of necessity, not choice. The suffocating pressure of being manipulated and controlled by those with more power, the feeling of being chained, was something Lu Xīnglán—who thrived on a life of luxury and freedom—could never tolerate.

He also understood that Shaò Yé was the weakest point for both him and Shaò Lán. The one place their defenses could be shattered.

Shaò Lán’s fingers curled around the Boss Bai's neck, squeezing just enough to cut off his breath. Her movements were slow, deliberate, and though her touch seemed almost tender, there was no mistaking the lethal intent behind it. “You will regret this,” she murmured, her voice like ice.