Nankong wasn’t so fond of dancing on his own grave that he needed to repeatedly tempt fate on the brink of death.

Major General Xie’er expressed a bit of concern for Ji Changqing and He Qingzhi, and after a few pointed looks, he took the hint and stopped his subtle probing.

Besides, he pretty much knew what was going on. There was no need to dig any deeper.

Having reined in Nankong, Major General Xie’er began to put him to work. Not only did she require him to take Jixin, this large tagalong, with him, but she also made him choose a place to live for the next six months to a year and arrange his own covert travel there.

She even smiled with complete trust and said, “I’m sure a small matter like this won’t be difficult for you at all. Wouldn’t you agree, Colonel Nankong?”

She put special emphasis on the words “Colonel Nankong,” her tone dripping with menace.

What else could Nankong say? He had no choice but to grit his teeth and accept it, though he secretly gloated about it for a long time afterward.

Along the way, Major General Xie’er cleaned up several tails, secretly sending people off one by one to be picked up by others.

The first to leave were Nankong and Jixin. There was no melancholy in their parting, only joy. They were heroes who had performed a great service; all that was left was to wait for their merits to be officially recognized. It wasn’t like they were going to their deaths, so why cry instead of celebrating?

The second to leave was Saiweiyala. Once a little kid, now a young girl, Saiweiyala cried her eyes out. After all, Ji Changqing and He Qingzhi had protected her for two years, personally guiding her and setting a seedling that had started to grow crooked back on the right path.

As she sobbed her heart out, Ji Changqing heartlessly told her, “Don’t forget us when you’re rich and famous.” She was already looking forward to the day Saiweiyala would be riding her Uncle Sith’s coattails, so she could then ride Saiweiyala’s.

“How can you be like that?!” He Qingzhi righteously condemned Ji Changqing, then turned to Saiweiyala with a serious expression to bid her farewell. “Don’t listen to her. It’s fine if you forget. Just give us a hand if you get the chance in the future.”

This only made Saiweiyala angrier, and she cried even louder.

In the end, the two goofballs had to put on smiling faces and coax her, signing a series of “unequal treaties” and promising to make time to visit her before Saiweiyala finally relented.

The second to last was He Qingzhi. His departure was also clean and decisive.

His young face looked vibrant in the sunlight, but his eyes held a world-weariness. “Let’s just say we’re graduating a year late. We’ll definitely have a chance to meet again.”

They shared a simple hug, a graduation farewell to a classmate with whom she’d endured abuse in prison and stirred up trouble in the Empire. They could be called comrades who had faced life and death together, but in reality, they didn’t know each other all that well.

None of the four were taken directly to their final destinations. Instead, they were quietly transferred on various planets, where other personnel took over, responsible for secretly escorting them the rest of the way.

Only Ji Changqing, who was already slated to join the Sixth Fleet, was personally escorted by Major General Xie’er to Iris Star. Xie’er handled her admission procedures for recuperation and even stayed for a few days to wait for the examination results and treatment plan.

The doctor couldn’t give a definitive answer, only stating circuitously, “Generally speaking, even after a spinal injury heals, it can never fully recover to its pre-injury state.”

This meant the impact on her strength would be quite significant.

“Will it affect her future advancement in Physique cultivation?”

“There will be some impact,” the doctor said, weighing his words as he looked over the report. “Given her current condition and this treatment plan, she will need at least six months of recuperation. No less.”

“If the recuperation period is longer, can she recover better?” Major General Xie’er swirled the small, exquisite teacup in her hand. The rising steam blurred her expression.

“Eight months of recuperation would certainly be a little better,” the doctor said frankly. “But the improvement would be limited.”

Major General Xie’er gently placed the cup on the small table. “Eight months it is, then. Will that be enough time to get her body back to its optimal state?”

The doctor understood the impact a physical injury could have on a soldier’s career. He hesitated for a moment, and Major General Xie’er’s eyelid twitched. “What is it?” she asked lightly. “Is there a problem?”

The doctor snapped back to attention, his brow furrowed. “She has some old, hidden injuries. It looks like she used drugs to stimulate a breakthrough. However…”

He paused briefly before continuing in a peculiar tone, “This drug was likely for body tempering, refining the body through a constant cycle of destruction and reconstruction. Most importantly, some of its potency may still remain. Look at her data—her cellular activity is 1.27 times that of an average person.”

Major General Xie’er raised an eyebrow. “So you’re saying that while a spinal injury normally can’t be fully restored, her special circumstances make it highly likely she could recover even better than before. It’s just that you can’t be certain of the exact outcome?”

The doctor affirmed her speculation without the slightest embarrassment.

Major General Xie’er chuckled, her mood brightening. “I see. I’ll talk to her.” She turned to leave, but with her hand on the doorknob, she looked back and asked, “A happy mood is conducive to a better recovery, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” the doctor replied, bewildered. Why else would they always stress the importance of keeping the patient in good spirits?!

Major General Xie’er seemed lost in thought. This time, she truly opened the door and left.

Iris Star was a planet so beautiful it made one want to linger forever. She believed Ji Changqing would be no exception—perhaps even more so than the average person.

After arranging everything, Major General Xie’er thought this as she departed Iris Star. Whistling, she sent Yu Zhiyao a travel guide titled “The Star Alliance’s Most Worthwhile Planets to Visit.” She highlighted in red her strong personal recommendation for must-see planets, with Iris Star at the very top of the list.

She put on a show of sighing, looking wistfully at the receding Iris Star as she lamented internally, Ji Changqing, this is all I can do to help you!

Then she succeeded in making herself laugh.

After nearly three months, the Alliance’s supervisory agency finally rounded up and detained all relevant personnel. The investigation even unearthed more than they’d bargained for, implicating a new batch of people who weren’t on the original list but had their own share of problems.

Those with lighter offenses were sent to the military courts of their respective military regions and dealt with swiftly. Some were dismissed, others imprisoned.

Those with serious crimes were escorted from all over to the Capital Star for unified trials and sentencing.

Tens of thousands throughout the military, from top to bottom, were implicated, from generals down to non-commissioned officers. Common soldiers, who had little opportunity to share in the profits, were at most charged with dereliction of duty and thus suffered minimal losses.

This led to numerous vacancies among high-ranking generals, field-grade officers, and mid-to-low-level company-grade and non-commissioned officers in the eight affected starfields.

Because Major General Xie’er’s command had, by a stroke of luck, already cleaned house once before, they didn’t lose as many people as the other seven starfields. Still, she was swamped with frequent personnel transfers and the assessments and promotions of batch after batch of people.

But no matter how busy she was, she remembered to save a captain’s position for Ji Changqing.

As the high-ranking military officials from the various starfields involved in the affair were escorted to the Capital Star in batches, tried, and sentenced, the factions they represented also crumbled. Some who were implicated but for whom there was insufficient evidence were still under investigation.

With all the data she had handled now used, Yu Zhiyao was finally able to extricate herself from that damned “confidential project.” Feeling a twinge of guilt, Sith generously approved a month-and-a-half-long vacation for her. Yes, Yu Zhiyao had requested at least three months, but he had cut it in half with a wave of his hand and still thought himself an exceptionally considerate mentor!

As a researcher, the best reward was obviously having countless projects to work on! Shouldn’t his student be throwing herself wholeheartedly into the myriad research projects awaiting her favor? What use was a vacation? It was far better to return to the embrace of scientific research and enjoy its pleasures as soon as possible!

Having secured her vacation, Yu Zhiyao carefully read the interstellar travel guide Xie’er had provided. Based on travel distance, she decided to arrange a trip to two planets this time.

Iris Star was prominently on the list.

Her plan was to first go to another planet to meet up with a close friend she hadn’t seen in a long time, staying for about a week. After her friend left, she would head to Iris Star to while away a month on the recuperation planet, which was famous for its flowers and also chronicled the entire history of the Star Alliance’s development.

Having planned her trip in advance, Yu Zhiyao had a wonderful time along the way. After arriving on Iris Star, she visited a few places before settling contentedly into the lakeside town at the history museum. She looked forward to spending the next month or so browsing through and experiencing the millennia of the Star Alliance’s development and changes.

Unaware that a captain’s position was guaranteed for her, Ji Changqing, after three months of painful recuperation, finally received permission from her attending physician to go out.

And then, completely unexpectedly, she ran right into Yu Zhiyao.

After their separation and before their reunion, Ji Changqing, who was often single and only intermittently in relationships, had always felt a profound sense of loneliness.

Her parents, who would be together until their hair turned white, had gradually grown distant during the years she lived away from home after becoming an adult; they no longer talked about everything. Her sisters each had their own families, their focus shifting from parents and siblings to their own small households, their interactions becoming more polite and formal. And her friends, once kindred spirits who walked alongside her, had also found their own passions—be it a lover or a career—making it difficult to talk all night until dawn as they once had.

Her once-close family and her friends, both new and old, seemed to have gradually drifted apart due to time and distance, each forming new bonds with different people. Only she remained adrift, without an anchor, lacking the ties to integrate into the world, separated from everyone by a thin veil.

She did not belong to this world, and this world did not belong to her.

Often, as she walked down the street, the sky in her eyes was blue, the trees were green, the crowds surged, and the city bustled, but none of it had anything to do with her, whose heart was as still as stagnant water.

The liveliness belonged to them; she had nothing.

The lights at night were bright and warm, yet not a single one was hers alone, lit just for her.

But after they met again, especially when she received that gentle, indulgent response, she held Yu Zhiyao tightly. That familiar yet strange warmth melted away the thin barrier separating her from the world, like ice turning to water.

It was as if a faded black-and-white scroll was gradually being colored in; the entire world came alive in her eyes once more.

The sky was blue, so clear it lifted one’s spirits. The trees were green, their myriad shades deep and light, brimming with life. The crowds surged, filled with joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness. The city’s clamor was its charm and vitality…

Though they had once been separated, with twenty years lying between them, they could still feel the intense love for each other. It was as if they had returned to twenty years ago, after they had understood their feelings and officially started their relationship, spending their days and nights together, intimately entwined.

For three whole months, they watched every sunrise and sunset together. Hand in hand, they traveled to every place on the planet they could and wanted to go, embracing and kissing passionately, soaking in each other’s warmth.

As the day of departure drew near, Ji Changqing finished her final course of treatment. Her steps were light as she walked toward the lakeside town. Bathed in the setting sun, she carried a bouquet of flowers she had picked and pieced together along the way, walking right into the view of Yu Zhiyao, who was sitting by the lake, leisurely reading a book.

Yu Zhiyao put down her book and watched with a smile as she approached. But when she saw the bouquet, which was clearly composed of flowers pilfered from the roadside, the corner of her eye twitched.

“A perfect recovery! Impressive, right?” Ji Changqing said gleefully, spinning around.

“Congratulations!” Yu Zhiyao finally let go of the worry she’d been holding, her eyes filled with a smile.

“Yu Zhiyao!” Ji Changqing called out, her voice slightly raised. Then she bent down, shoved the flowers into the hands of a thoroughly bewildered Yu Zhiyao, and grasped her hands. “You have to take responsibility for me,” she said, her tone both serious and solemn. “Military marriages are protected by law, you know?!”

All Yu Zhiyao knew was that she wanted! To! Hit! Her!

But in the end, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Instead, she reached out and gave her a hug, dispelling the loneliness that clung to her.

The seemingly insurmountable obstacles that had once stood between them, leading to their eventual separation, had all ceased to exist with the passage of time and the changing of days.

With a bouquet of flowers and an embrace, they chose to reconcile with their past selves, melting away the scars they had carved into each other.

At the end of the long day, I stand before you. You will see my scars and know that I was wounded, and also that I was healed.