The Imperial Marshal’s Darling at the Tip of His Heart - Chapter 15

The sliding door closed silently, isolating Ling Yao’s tall silhouette and his ultimatum-like command from the room. Once again, Yun Shu was alone in the pure white cell, accompanied only by the rhythmic, nerve-wracking ticking of the monitor.

“The preliminary derivation formulas for the energy fluctuation filtering model.”

Yun Shu repeated Ling Yao’s requirement in his mind. His pale face betrayed no emotion, yet deep within his eyes, a flicker of rapid calculation flashed by. Ling Yao wanted more than just a formula. This was a probe; it was a multi-layered test of his ability, his willingness to cooperate, and his controllability. If he provided it too easily, he would expose the depths of Xilan’s research and appear too submissive, lacking leverage. If he was too perfunctory or gave incorrect data, he would immediately incite suspicion and invite harsher suppression.

He had to provide something that was just right. It had to be valuable enough to prove his ability and buy a temporary reprieve, yet it could not touch core secrets. Ideally, it would steer the Empire’s research toward a direction that was advantageous, or at least harmless, to Xilan. This required an exquisite balance.

More urgently, he needed to interpret the information fragments he had captured at the risk of his life. Ling Yao’s patience was limited, and the intervention of the Old Noble factions had made the situation even more treacherous. He had to find the key to breaking this deadlock before everything became irreversible.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the protesting pain radiating from every part of his body, and focused his entire spirit. His brain, like a precision instrument running at an overload, began to process two tasks simultaneously. On one hand, he recalled, deconstructed, and reorganized Xilan’s research data on the Turbid Core energy fluctuations to draft that just right formula. On the other hand, he worked with full force to trace the encrypted fragments of information he had intercepted from Ling Yao’s light screen during that desperate moment.

Time flew by during this intense mental activity. Sweat soaked his hair again, and the discomfort in his lungs was temporarily forgotten due to his sheer concentration. However, the occasional spikes in parameters on the monitor showed that his body was under immense pressure.

Finally, a blurred path index and several heavily encrypted key identifiers began to crystallize in his mind. They pointed to an extremely concealed private data node hidden outside the Empire’s regular network. This was highly likely one of the hiding spots for the vital information regarding the Turbid Core that Ling Yao was tracking.

While he could not access it directly, confirming its existence and general nature was a massive achievement in itself. Ling Yao’s attention was occupied by Tartarus and the Primal Sequence; perhaps, to some extent, he had overlooked this more directly related clue.

Yun Shu suppressed the tremor of excitement in his heart and continued his work without a word. He skillfully packaged a portion of his knowledge on energy fluctuations into a preliminary formula framework, one based on general mathematical model derivation that was slightly rough but logically self-consistent. He intentionally blurred the calculation methods for a few key parameters and left an undetectable hypothetical trap that would require specific conditions to verify.

After completing all of this, he felt a wave of intense vertigo and was forced to stop and catch his breath. The effects of the medication were fading, and the pain of Crystal-Erosion Disease surged back like a rising tide.

At that moment, the sliding door opened again. This time, it was not Ling Yao but a technical officer wearing a monocle-style data analysis lens, followed by two soldiers. The officer expressionlessly handed him a lightweight, isolated data pad with no external ports.

“The Marshal orders you to input your derivation process here. You have two hours,” the officer’s voice was cold and clinical.

Yun Shu took the data pad, his fingers brushing the cold screen. This type of isolated pad could only perform basic input and output and could not connect to any network, completely eliminating any possibility of him tampering with the system again. The Empire’s precautions were indeed airtight.

He did not hesitate and began writing on the cold screen. The steps of the formula derivation and the brief explanations were typed at a moderate pace. He occasionally paused to appear as though he were thinking to the point of exhaustion. He even mixed in a few suppressed, low coughs, perfectly fitting the state of a severely ill prisoner forced to work.

The technical officer stood to the side, his eyes behind the lens sharply scanning every symbol on the screen, clearly evaluating its value in real-time. Minutes and seconds ticked away. Yun Shu finally entered the last symbol and gently set the data pad down, leaning against the headboard in exhaustion. His face was even paler than before.

The technical officer picked up the pad and scanned it quickly. Flickers of light moved across his lens, suggesting he was running a preliminary verification program. After a moment, he said nothing, gave a slight nod, and turned to leave with the soldiers.

The first hurdle was cleared, at least as far as submitting the work went. The result would depend on Ling Yao’s judgment.

Silence returned to the cell. Yun Shu closed his eyes and struggled to adjust his breathing, fighting against the waves of weakness that grew stronger with each pulse. He knew the harder tests were still to come.

Sure enough, it was not long before the sliding door opened once more. Ling Yao had returned. He held the isolated data pad, his face unreadable. He walked straight to the bedside and turned the screen toward Yun Shu.

“Explain the transformation logic in step seven and the basis for choosing the twelfth parameter.”

He got straight to the point, his questions accurately targeting the areas where Yun Shu had intentionally been vague or set traps. Yun Shu felt a slight chill in his heart but remained outwardly calm as he slowly opened his eyes.

His voice was weak but clear. “Step seven employs a non-linear fitting rule based on the non-standard exponential characteristics of Turbid Crystal energy decay. It requires the introduction of a dynamic correction factor.”

He explained using basic theory as much as possible; it sounded reasonable, but it omitted Xilan’s unique observational data and core algorithms.

“As for the twelfth parameter,” he paused, his breathing slightly labored, “it is based on a theoretical hypothetical value in extreme environments. Currently, there is a lack of sufficient empirical support. Perhaps the Marshal’s department will need to verify it themselves.”

He skillfully kicked the ball back, admitting the uncertainty while tossing the responsibility and cost of verification to the Empire. Ling Yao listened quietly, his gaze as sharp as a knife, as if trying to dissect every layer of disguise to reach the truth. He did not immediately refute or agree; he simply stared at Yun Shu in silence. That silence was more oppressive than any interrogation.

Yun Shu forced himself to meet the gaze without flinching. His eyes, slightly unfocused due to the pain, served as the perfect cover. After a few seconds, Ling Yao’s lips twitched slightly, revealing a hint of mockery or perhaps something else.

“Theoretical hypotheses? Lack of empirical support? Chief Yun Shu, isn’t there a bit too much water in your formulas?”

Yun Shu’s heart sank slightly, but his tone remained steady. “I am only telling the truth. After all, I have never witnessed the full scope of the Turbid Core myself. All derivations are based on indirect data and theoretical deduction.”

He skillfully blamed the limitations on objective conditions rather than subjective concealment. Ling Yao snorted and tossed the data pad onto the side table with a crisp clatter.

“Honest enough,” he evaluated, his tone enigmatic. “While there are no surprises, the train of thought is indeed interesting. It is better than the clichéd platitudes from those fools at the Imperial Research Institute.”

Did this mean he had passed? Before Yun Shu could think further, Ling Yao’s next words made his heart tighten again.

“Since you have such insight into energy fluctuations,” Ling Yao leaned down, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed and casting Yun Shu into his shadow once more, “it so happens I have received intelligence that an abandoned monitoring station on the border has captured a segment of anomalous Turbid energy signals. The characteristics are rare. You have one day to analyze this signal. I want to know its source, the intensity prediction, and whether it is periodic.”

With a flick of his wrist, a micro-storage card appeared between his fingertips. “The data is here. Analyze it using the isolated pad. Do not disappoint me.”

This was no longer a probe; it was a real mission. The time was tight and the workload was massive. Yun Shu looked at the tiny storage card as if seeing a heavier set of chains. But he had no choice. He slowly reached out and took the card.

His fingertips inevitably brushed against Ling Yao’s. He felt the warmth and power radiating from the other man’s skin, a sensation entirely out of place in this cold cell. Ling Yao seemed to pause as well, his gaze lingering for a moment on Yun Shu’s pale, slender, and slightly trembling fingers before he straightened up.

“I have seen your sincerity.” Ling Yao looked at him, his tone still cold, but the earlier killing intent seemed to have lessened. “Keep it up, Chief Yun Shu. Your value for staying alive will be reflected in your results.”

With that, he did not linger and strode away. The sliding door closed again.

Yun Shu gripped the tiny storage card tightly, as if holding a piece of burning ice. He knew that analyzing this signal was a true challenge and a true opportunity. Ling Yao was testing him with an actual task while simultaneously extracting his value.

He reconnected the isolated data pad and inserted the card. A massive amount of chaotic, raw energy signal data flooded in, vast and disorganized, carrying clear characteristics of Turbid pollution. The sheer volume of work made his vision go dark.

One day. In his current state, it was a nearly impossible task. But he had no time to catch his breath. Taking a deep breath and suppressing the metallic taste of blood in his throat, Yun Shu refocused his entire spirit and cast his gaze into the vast ocean of data. His eyes were focused and sharp; a faint light still remained.