The General's Love Glitch - Chapter 7

This answer took Jun Jue by surprise, as her database comparison covered the registered citizen information of the entire interstellar population.

She raised her eyes to look at Ruan Wei, who didn’t dare meet her gaze, her flustered expression making it hard not to suspect she was hiding something.

Jun Jue’s doubts remained unresolved. With a light tap on her optical computer, she selected a few more options, expanding the comparison range to include even citizens who had passed away in the past century.

Only a select few high-ranking officials had access to the federal database. In the military, Jun Jue’s status was unrivaled, and even the elderly Chief Executive treated her with deference.

She could directly connect to the database through her optical computer.

The data was vast and complex, causing the optical computer to slow down.

Time itself seemed to drag as Jun Jue lifted her gaze, folding her arms as she took a step toward Ruan Wei.

Ruan Wei felt a chill in the air and retreated in fear.

The pretty sister was indeed still suspicious of her identity.

“Will you tell me yourself, or shall I find out?” Jun Jue asked.

“I… I’ll tell you. I’m an undocumented person, without a registered identity…”

As soon as Ruan Wei finished speaking, the intelligent optical computer chimed in: “Report, General. Still no matching information found.”

Jun Jue frowned at this. “Undocumented?”

Ruan Wei nodded emphatically, her eyes lowered, thinking to herself that this wasn’t entirely a lie, vampires had never been registered in human records.

She hadn’t expected to dig herself into another hole.

“Do you know what kind of people become undocumented?” Jun Jue asked coldly, watching Ruan Wei’s expression.

Ruan Wei shook her head. “I was only eight when my parents died. I was locked up by bad people for ten years. I don’t know much about the outside world.”

“Fugitives. Major criminals,” Jun Jue stated flatly.

“Were your parents fugitives?”

“No!”

The mention of her parents made Ruan Wei agitated.

“My parents were good people, kind, gentle, and they treated me so well. I was very happy when they were alive.”

Jun Jue paused briefly, like an emotionless interrogator, before pressing on. “What was the cause of their deaths?”

“I don’t know,” Ruan Wei could only say. Telling the truth would expose her identity.

“Do you know who imprisoned you?”

Jun Jue rarely involved herself in such matters, but since this had fallen into her hands, she wouldn’t let a criminal go unpunished.

Ruan Wei shook her head again, raising her eyes to meet Jun Jue’s gaze, her own already reddened.

“Pretty sister, do you have any more questions? Could you… ask them all at once?”

Even someone as unfeeling as Jun Jue could sense Ruan Wei’s genuine distress.

As a federal general, safeguarding the federation’s security was her duty. Investigating someone she had brought back was the bare minimum. Yet Ruan Wei was almost an unsolvable mystery, not even the vast federal database contained any personal information about her.

The two fell into a tense silence.

If Jun Jue had questions, she would have asked them outright, but her mind seemed to stall. Even if she did ask, Ruan Wei would likely say she didn’t know.

She seemed as clueless about her own identity as Jun Jue was.

“What were your parents’ names? Do you remember?” Jun Jue suddenly recalled that names could reveal much, provided they were real.

This was a question Ruan Wei couldn’t claim ignorance of.

Jun Jue scrutinized her like a suspect, watching as she clutched the military-green cloak, hesitating before answering: “Zhou Wei, Ruan Xue.”

“You took your mother’s surname?”

“Mhm.”

After obtaining the new information, Jun Jue immediately searched for the name of Ruan Wei’s mother. The holographic display from her neural interface projected the image of a woman in a white lab coat with her hair tied in a low ponytail above her wrist.

“Mom!” Ruan Wei cried out excitedly.

Jun Jue promptly muted the audio function of the neural interface, relying solely on visual information.

Human geneticist, unmarried, mother of one daughter. Rumored to have conceived the child through in vitro fertilization. The daughter disappeared 20 years ago, presumed deceased, cause of death unknown.

Jun Jue glanced up at Ruan Wei, then searched for the name of Ruan Wei’s father from memory. The database returned no results, no such person existed, and the only matches were newborns with the same name.

After reviewing the information, Jun Jue closed the neural interface.

“Mom!” Ruan Wei reached out to grab the image, but it was nothing more than an illusion, her fingers passed through empty air.

“Pretty sister, can you let me see my mom again?”

“Answer my question first. Who is your father?”

“Zhou Wei. My dad’s name is Zhou Wei, I already told you!” Ruan Wei lunged forward in agitation.

Jun Jue froze momentarily, unmoving. By the time she reacted to stop her, she realized Ruan Wei was only trying to operate her neural interface, desperate to see her mother again, even if it was just a virtual image.

Should I let her see it?

Just then, a knock sounded at the door, followed by an ingratiating male voice. “General, you and the young lady must be hungry. I’ve had the chefs on the starship prepare a lavish lunch for both of you.”

Jun Jue turned to Ruan Wei. “Let go first.”

“I want-”

“Later.”

Ruan Wei still clung to her hand, tilting her face up to scrutinize Jun Jue, as if weighing the sincerity of her words.

“Did I abandon you after saying you could stay with me?” Jun Jue asked.

“…Not yet,” Ruan Wei replied weakly. “But I feel like pretty sister might throw me away at any moment.”

Jun Jue: “…”

“Let go. I’ll let you see your mother later.”

Only then did Ruan Wei release her. Jun Jue glanced at her disheveled sleeve and the faint red marks left on her wrist by Ruan Wei’s grip. Without a word, she straightened everything, ensuring her sleeve covered the marks before opening the door.

When Jun Jue pulled the door open, the lieutenant was still pressing his ear against it, straining to eavesdrop but the soundproofing of the general’s private quarters was impeccable.

He had heard nothing. What a shame.

“Let me help you push the meal cart inside,” the lieutenant offered with an obsequious smile.

Eager to curry favor with Jun Jue and sneak a peek inside, he hoped to uncover any hint of the general breaking her ascetic habits, though “ascetic” might not be the right word, given how monastic Jun Jue’s lifestyle had been all these years.

“Go attend to your duties. You’re not needed here.” Jun Jue gave him no opportunity.

She was fiercely protective of her personal space and would never allow outsiders into her private quarters.

So she wheeled the cart in herself, using her long leg to kick the door shut behind her, cutting off any prying eyes. Seeing Ruan Wei still standing where she’d left her, Jun Jue momentarily forgot why the girl was even there.

Averting her gaze, she pushed the cart to the mechanical table by the wall and began arranging the dishes.

True to the lieutenant’s word, the spread was lavish, so much that the table could barely hold it all.

Jun Jue sat down to eat, while Ruan Wei stood beside her, staring with pleading eyes.

“Pretty sister, you promised to let me see my mom again.”

Keeping her word, Jun Jue pulled up the information on Ruan Wei’s mother, leaving no room for negotiation. “Five minutes.”

“Thank you, pretty sister!” Ruan Wei said gratefully.

Ten years had passed since the deaths of her parents, and their faces had long since blurred in her memory.

Being able to see her mother again, even if it wasn’t real, moved Ruan Wei to tears.

Jun Jue waited quietly for five minutes. The moment the time was up, she promptly cut off the projection, shattering Ruan Wei’s illusion with her words.

“Time’s up. Eat.”

Ruan Wei was dazed for a few seconds before obediently sitting down across from her, eating with a smile on her face.

Was she happy just like that?

Jun Jue thought Ruan Wei’s mood swings were truly swift.

“Pretty sister, try this, it’s delicious.” Ruan Wei suddenly stood up and placed a piece of shrimp into Jun Jue’s bowl.

“Will I be able to see my mom again?”

Jun Jue understood Ruan Wei was trying to curry favor with her.

She glanced at the shrimp in her bowl and hesitated before nodding.

Ruan Wei grew even more enthusiastic, piling more dishes onto Jun Jue’s plate. Jun Jue covered her bowl with her hand, shielding it completely.

“I don’t like others serving me food.”

“Huh?” Ruan Wei was surprised at first but then nodded, sitting back down quietly to continue eating her own meal, seemingly even happier now.

Jun Jue ate her lunch, finding the flavors quite good.

As she ate, she pondered how Ruan Wei could legitimately stay in the Federation and live openly without drawing suspicion.

Identity was an unavoidable hurdle. The missing daughter of a geneticist was far too conspicuous, and with both of Ruan Wei’s parents deceased, there was no way to verify her DNA.

Moreover, Ruan Wei had been brought back by her. Those who opposed her might use Ruan Wei as ammunition against her. It would be better to assign Ruan Wei an inconsequential identity.

Forging an identity wasn’t difficult for her, but she had always disdained such methods.

…

After the meal, Jun Jue left the lounge to attend to official business, instructing Ruan Wei to stay put and not wander around.

Ruan Wei nodded obediently. As long as the pretty sister let her see her mother’s projection, she would do anything.

Once Jun Jue finished her instructions, she left the lounge, rolling up her sleeve to glance at her wrist, several red nail marks still lingered.

Jun Jue headed to the main cabin of the starship, where she connected with the Federation. On the other end, her own funeral ceremony was being broadcasted live by multiple media outlets.

If she had truly died, she would have been posthumously awarded an honorary title, and the entire Federation would observe a day-long blackout in mourning after her burial.

Jun Jue calmly established the connection, instantly causing an uproar on the other side.

The first to scream was Lin Qiyue, the daughter of the Chief Executive. “I knew you were still alive, Jun Jue! This is wonderful!”

Even more unexpectedly, Lin Qiyue immediately stripped off her black mourning attire, revealing a dazzling short white wedding dress underneath.

“I, Lin Qiyue, hereby declare to all citizens of the Federation, I will marry only Jun Jue, whether she lives or dies!”

…

Jun Jue was aware of Lin Qiyue’s feelings for her, but she had rejected her multiple times. She hadn’t expected Lin Qiyue to be this unhinged.

Just as she was about to refuse, the connection was abruptly cut off.

Jun Jue attempted to reconnect with the Federation’s communication line but failed.

Shortly after, she received private video calls simultaneously from the Chief Executive and Lin Qiyue.

Without hesitation, Jun Jue answered the Chief Executive’s call. Lin Qiyue stood beside him, agitated as she declared, “I don’t see anything wrong with what I did. I just love Jun Jue!”

“Qiyue!” the Chief Executive barked sternly at his daughter before turning back to Jun Jue with a kindly smile. “Qiyue is just being childish. Jun Jue, pay her no mind.”

Jun Jue saluted the holographic image of the Chief Executive, his expression cold and solemn. He stated bluntly, “Your Excellency, this is no joke to me, it’s forced marriage.”

The smile on the Chief Executive ‘s face slowly faded.

Chief Executive Lin Aimin, in his fifties, had a kindly face that resembled the Maitreya Buddha when he smiled. But when unsmiling, he exuded an unsettling aura, like a venomous serpent lurking beneath the light.

Across the intangible interstellar network, a tense, confrontational pressure began to spread.