While the Longteng system turned the tech world upside down, Lei Zhengyang was dragged to the Fifth Military District by his Third Uncle, Lei Qiuping. Trailing them was an unshakeable shadow—Fourth Uncle Lei Dongping, hell-bent on sticking to Zhengyang until he secured the submarine command program. He'd either drive Zhengyang nuts or lose his own mind trying.
"Third Bro, why'd you haul Zhengyang here?" Dongping teased, smirking. "What's the big secret? Fairies falling from the sky?" He'd borrowed Qiuping's crude catchphrase—What, naked chicks dropping from heaven?—having heard it one too many times.
Qiuping ignored his brother's jab. This time, he'd deployed a secret weapon, certain Zhengyang couldn't resist her charm. Wu Xiaomin had floored him with the reveal: the icy, ravishing Hua Yunyue, crowned one of the capital's four beauties and the military's flower, was her junior sister. Wu Xiaomin had bragged, "Name one man my junior sister can't tame!"
Qiuping had to admit, even with Wu Xiaomin by his side, Hua Yunyue's allure might've broken him. Not that he'd ever say it aloud—some thoughts were too dangerous.
"Zhengyang, you're here! Giving your uncle some face, huh?" Wu Xiaomin appeared, beaming. Oddly, their meeting spot wasn't a military field but her private apartment, which piqued Zhengyang's curiosity. "Future Third Aunt's call—we had to show," Dongping chimed in, grinning. Whatever you two are plotting, I'm sticking around. No program, no peace.
Zhengyang eyed Wu Xiaomin's serious demeanor. Whoever she'd invited wasn't ordinary, but he couldn't guess who. "Of course, Third Aunt summons, and this junior sprints over," he said, sniffing the air. "I smell food—got a feast planned?" His nose was sharp, a survival instinct honed from starvation days in training.
Wu Xiaomin blushed, defensive. "What, think I'm not woman enough to cook? You're wrong—my skills are top-notch!"
"Absolutely," Qiuping gushed, heedless of Zhengyang's presence. "Filial Min, you're the best in my eyes." His sappy words were shameless, his thick skin legendary.
Zhengyang and Dongping shivered, cringing at the mush. Wu Xiaomin, though, ate it up, shooting Qiuping a playful glare. "Marrying me's your past-life blessing. Treat me right, or else." Her coy tone and girlish pose were jarring—two blunt souls playing at romance felt painfully out of place.
Dongping stifled a laugh. They say love turns people into idiots. These two are proof—dumb as bubbles. Zhengyang, uninterested in their lovefest, cut in. "Let's head inside. I'm curious about this guest."
As they moved, a car engine roared. Wu Xiaomin chirped, "Zhengyang, my other guest's here—don't be too shocked!"
A standard military jeep rolled up, modded to the hilt—wild, ferocious, like a tiger on wheels. At the gate, sentries had gawked, itching to see who drove such a beast. But a flash of a Military Commission special pass—one of only ten issued, reserved for top brass—silenced them. The guard saluted, not daring to glimpse the driver. He missed a rare chance to behold a goddess.
Hua Yunyue had arrived, mission in tow. The Blade Group had many members, but few fit this task. Hua Yunyue was perfect—not just as a woman, but as one of the capital's four beauties. She loathed the title at times, but against self-styled playboys like Zhengyang, it was a lethal weapon. Now, she'd wield it.
Lei Zhengyang, I'll see right through you.
Zhengyang felt a strange tug as the car approached, a familiar warmth, like a breeze brushing his heart. He'd felt it before, somewhere. Then she stepped out—a breathtaking beauty in a crisp major general's uniform, her shoulder epaulettes proclaiming her rank. In the entire capital military, only one woman wore that garb: Hua Yunyue, the military goddess.
In his past life, Zhengyang had heard legends of Hua Yunyue but never met her. Few had. Her world was confined, mostly to military camps. As a Blade Group reserve, she needed no wide circles or friends—distractions dulled the heart, scattered focus. From the day she joined, her life was pledged to nation and sacrifice.
Yet, with forty years of memories, Zhengyang knew a secret: Hua Yunyue was the daughter of the Military Blade, a truth revealed only years after her death. Her passing had driven her father, the Military Blade, to madness, honing the Shura Demon Blade in a spiral of chaos. That frenzy, despite his neutral stance, had left the Lei family vulnerable. Without his restraint, their enemies pounced, shattering the clan.
Zhengyang had accepted Wu Xiaomin not just as his past-life Third Aunt—though three years late—but because she was the Military Blade's named disciple. Had the Military Blade not lost control, the Lei family might've endured. Zhengyang, reborn, vowed to prevent that tragedy. To alter the Military Blade's fate, he'd start with his daughter. Records from his past life noted Hua Yunyue's death in a super-martial operation—a detail he'd need to change.
Even prepared, her presence stunned. Both Zhengyang and Dongping gulped, primal awe at her beauty overriding restraint. "Yunyue! Didn't know you were Third Aunt's friend," Dongping said, his wife temporarily forgotten. "We'll have to get closer now." Regret gnawed—married too soon, missing a shot at such a prize.
Zhengyang froze, not from her beauty or rank, but her face. It stirred a ghost of recognition, a faint echo of someone else. It's her—Instructor No. 2.
"Zhengyang, what's with the daze?" Wu Xiaomin teased. "Never seen a girl this gorgeous? Eyes wide open now?" Though not yet a Lei, her heart was all-in, marriage a mere formality. She saw herself as Qiuping's wife, and Zhengyang's reaction thrilled her—her junior sister's charm was unstoppable.
Hua Yunyue studied Zhengyang, sizing up the capital's notorious playboy. Oddly, he didn't repel her. His gaze was clear, his demeanor composed, even handsome. Compared to self-proclaimed scholars, he felt genuine. What's wrong with this man?
She extended her hand, voice soft as a chime. "I'm Hua Yunyue. Pleasure to meet you. Senior Sister says you're a mystery, so I came to see for myself."
Zhengyang raised his hand—not to shake hers, but to wave at Wu Xiaomin. "Third Aunt, I know your game. The special forces training? I'll help. Thanks for the invite, but I'm out."
No one expected it. After meeting Hua Yunyue, Zhengyang didn't utter a word to her—he just turned to leave. Hua Yunyue's face darkened, pride stung. She'd never been dismissed like this. Not vain about her looks, she still found his reaction infuriating. In a flash, she stepped in front of him, voice sharp. "You took something of mine. Shouldn't you return it?"
The group gaped. Zhengyang's odd behavior was one thing, but Hua Yunyue's claim was stranger. These two, strangers by all accounts, had some hidden connection?