"My condolences, Sister-in-law."
"My condolences, Sister-in-law."
Young men were rarely good at comforting others, and in truth, there was no real comfort for something like this. Some pain cannot truly be shared; it is hard to tell someone not to grieve.
Beside the casket, Wen Jifei and Wu Xu each spoke softly.
Holding her son's hand, He Yunqing turned her head and nodded to them. She knew who these two young men were and where they came from. As an ordinary person, she knew of Stream Vanguard; and as Zhang Chiyuan's wife, she had heard her husband speak of them many times.
*It's a pity Major Qing seems to have had something come up and couldn't make it. Chiyuan always loved bragging about him most.* The thought crossed He Yunqing's mind unbidden, and in her memory surfaced her husband's proud grin whenever he boasted over a few drinks.
*You were someone who loved a lively crowd so much, loved seeing friends so much... Why won't you say anything now?* Looking toward the casket, the tears that had dried on He Yunqing's cheeks began to flow once more.
At that moment, the appointed hour arrived. The military funeral ceremony began, commands reverberating across the whole expanse accompanied by the surge of source energy.
"Lift the caskets—"
The caskets were lifted from the vehicles. In truth, they were not heavy, containing nothing more than a box of ashes inside. Yet on both sides of each truck, the eight pallbearers moved in unison—bracing their hands, lowering their hips, and sliding a shoulder underneath.
Suddenly, a quiet voice sounded: "Wu Xu."
Because the trucks had stopped beyond the distant crowd, Han Qingyu and the warriors of the Fourth Army had skirted around the flank, walking into the site on foot. Now standing at Wu Xu's side, he said:
"Let me take it."
Beside them, Wen Jifei looked over, his eyes hinting that he was pondering something. At the same time, Wu Xu recognized Qingzi's voice; without hesitation, he stepped aside.
Han Qingyu moved in and pushed his left shoulder forward just as the casket settled, the bottom pressing firmly against his shoulder.
It wasn't heavy, yet it was so very heavy.
The battle flag of the Sole Witness Legion draped over the casket hung down, brushing against his cheek. At one end of the long casket was the emblem of the Legion Commander's saber—unique to Huaxia—while at the other was an enlarged depiction of the Azure Gold Guardian Medal, standing like a golden shield.
*A pleasure to meet you, General Zhang! If your spirit lives on in heaven, you must know my situation.*
*I do not know whether this 'me' counts as your old friend. Even if not, as an ordinary person today able to see the general off in his place, Han Qingyu is still deeply honored.*
Han Qingyu spoke the words he had prepared on the way in his heart. Perhaps because too much was hidden inside him now, his emotions resembled the grief of an ordinary person mourning a fallen hero—not overly intense.
At that moment, Chen Buer at the front glanced back and caught sight of him. He said nothing and made no gesture, quickly turning back around.
Amid the ritual commands, the pallbearers' footsteps moved forward toward the mountain.
The eleven caskets—one in front, ten behind—halted, facing the peak.
"Major Qing."
"It's him! Major Qing came after all—he took Wu Xu's place."
"He came to carry General Zhang's casket."
People near and far finally saw Han Qingyu's figure appear. Even from just a profile, his iconic weapons and gear made him recognizable at a single glance.
In an instant, many heads turned.
Those nearby remained solemn and silent.
In the distance, low murmurs broke out, but whether out of surprise or excitement, everyone carefully suppressed their voices, fearing they might desecrate the ceremony itself or dishonor the spirits of the fallen warriors.
...
"He's here... Yes, at the ceremony." Several seemingly ordinary onlookers quietly slipped out of the crowd. Striding away, they reported the situation into their communicators in coded phrases.
There was a brief hesitation on the other end, as though the operator did not know what instructions to give and was consulting a superior.
About two seconds later, a voice sounded from slightly further off: "It doesn't matter. He cannot cleave the mountain. The world will still be shaken, and in the short term, things will proceed according to our plan."
It was a woman's voice—rational, calm, without a trace of emotion.
If Wen Jifei and the others had heard it, it would have been intimately familiar.
After finishing, Zhe Qiuhong massaged her temples. Perhaps in the deepest recesses of her heart, she still felt a sliver of guilt toward Qingzi. Of course, it was only a sliver...
Pawns were still pawns.
At present, Zhe Qiuhong's plan was being implemented step by step. The first phase, the public opinion offensive, was an immense success.
On this point, even within the upper echelons of Voyage, no one had anticipated that she could reverse the mood of the entire world so simply—especially the mood of those in the Azure Council.
It was likely because she held enough knowledge, understanding Major The Qing's condition deeply enough. And as fate would have it, Major Qing was currently the most watched, most critical figure in this world.
"Looking at it this way, the Navigator's three years with Stream Vanguard really weren't spent in vain."
In fact, behind closed doors, Voyage's lobbying among Azure's leadership had never stopped. Early on, they had faced tremendous resistance, but in recent days, the tide had begun to turn.
More Azure council members, including some at the very top, had begun to reconsider and back Project Fireseed.
The logic behind it was simple: if even Major Qing could do no more than perish together with Daie... then humanity stood no chance against the higher-tier Great Spikes to follow, nor against their even vaster invasion force.
Matters were accelerating. Barring any accidents, by the next plenary session of the Council, a coalition of council members would submit a proposal to restart the Fireseed exploration project while reallocating resources.
Among them, some councilors wanted to leave an escape route for themselves, convinced they would surely secure a spot aboard the ships.
Others, despite knowing full well they could not leave, or genuinely possessing the resolve to live and die with their homeworld, still chose to support it.
As for their reasons, some had people they cared about deeply and wished for them to escape; others had genuinely come to agree with Voyage's perspective, believing this to be the sole hope of preserving the sparks of human civilization.
In short, things were rapidly developing along the intended course.
Motherships: at least two. Deployable small source energy vessels: at least one hundred. And then resources: enough to sustain the fleet for sixty years of space voyage at the minimum. These were what Zhe Qiuhong demanded.
The Great Spikes in Antarctica were building a super traction station; they had to leave before its completion.
Head into space.
And afterward, whether they truly found a new home or not, this fleet would never return.
For Voyage's projections were abundantly clear: before the Great Spikes utterly annihilated their mother planet, Project Fireseed could not possibly produce the strength to send reinforcements or provide relief.
"There are also many spontaneous voices among the public calling for the execution of Project Fireseed. Some are quite fierce, filled with grief and indignation," a subordinate said, walking over with a smile on his lips after hanging up the call.
"Unsurprising. The public is ever foolish, yet convinces itself it is embracing truth. Of course, you could also view them as genuinely selfless and noble." Her tone sounded somewhat languid. Zhe Qiuhong frowned as she spoke. "It's a pity they will never understand that the survival of the vast majority of people in this world is entirely meaningless, and not worth defending."
The people who would never understand, whom she referred to, naturally meant Han Qingyu and the others.
Zhe Qiuhong knew that when the day truly came to depart, even if she extended an invitation, Han Qingyu, Wen Jifei, Rusty Sister, and the rest would never board the ships.
There were far too many people they cared about.
Failing to notice the shift in her mood, the subordinate continued smiling with a hint of gloating. "One day, amid annihilation, they will discover that the vanguard humanity spent such colossal resources to send away has nothing more to do with them. May they, at that time..."
The "they" the subordinate spoke of referred to the six billion human beings.
"May they, at that time, feel they have died a worthy death." The "they" Zhe Qiuhong spoke of still referred to Han Qingyu, Wen Jifei, Shen Yixiu, Wu Xu, He Tangtang, Zhu Jiaming...
"Haha, the only real pity is that I won't get to see them struggling in their death throes."
A third voice came from behind Zhe Qiuhong. With the words, a man stepped out. His eyes were smiling, yet still brimming with malice.
His name was Zhe Shouzhao, Zhe Qiuhong's younger brother.
Four years ago, he had led people to hunt down Han Qingyu's entire core team, taking advantage of all their main combatants being severely wounded to nearly wipe out what would become "one of humanity's pillar squads."
It was also that time that allowed Zhe Qiuhong to be captured by Han Qingyu.
Later, when Han Qingyu advanced to super combat power and returned from the City of Sin accompanied by ten thousand thugs, Zhe Shouzhao had fled in terror of reckoning, skulking in hiding until only recently daring to show his face again.
Zhe Shouzhao had found his way back on his own, locating Zhe Qiuhong through Voyage's network and coming with her to this secret stronghold belonging to Voyage.
"I thought there would come a day when I'd personally send them on their way..." Zhe Shouzhao continued in the tone of someone having his vengeance fulfilled.
"Shut up."
His words were cut short.
A flicker of disgust showed in Zhe Qiuhong's eyes, her voice cold and stern: "Their life and death is not something you are fit to discuss."
Zhe Shouzhao: "..."
He felt he had merely been following the thread of their conversation, never expecting his own sister to show no leniency whatsoever. His neck stiffened, veins bulging, eyes full of savagery, yet after hesitating a few times, he still did not dare talk back.
"And another thing: who told you to come out?! Get the hell back to the basement." As she spoke, Zhe Qiuhong didn't even cast another glance at him.
She did not know why her brother had grown up to become like this.
Yet even so, Zhe Shouzhao was still her brother, her only remaining blood relative in this world, and virtually the only piece left of her childhood memories.
Zhe Shouzhao stood there, staring at her back for a few seconds. Saying nothing, he turned with a dark face and retreated into the darkness.
Meanwhile, outside this ordinary-looking old building, a figure skirted half the perimeter along the wall, then looked up and pondered for two seconds. *This should be the place.*
Per Wen Jifei's arrangement, Little Prince had not attended the funeral.
He had been blending in with the crowd, sharply tailing someone.
That person had just disappeared nearby.
To be precise, Little Prince had lost him—the fellow had no weak skills.
However, that didn't affect his final judgment. Coming from a background of "the ancients" and a "thief," Little Prince was versed in things ordinary people were not. When looking at old buildings, a single glance was all he needed to tell which one was suited for hiding people and plotting shady deeds.
"Haven't seen you in quite a while, Fat Zhe. Wonder if you've gotten even fatter."
Chapter 744