The Imperial Marshal’s Darling at the Tip of His Heart - Chapter 29

His consciousness, like scattered stars, slowly gathered once more. The last images etched into his mind were Ling Yao’s eyes, swirling with cold rage, scrutiny, and complex calculation, along with the warning: “You had better remain useful.”

He knew he had once again snatched his life back from the gates of death. The price was the further collapse of his body and being pulled deeper into the surging undercurrents of the Imperial high command. The rupture between Ling Yao and the Council, or rather, the Council’s intent to eliminate Ling Yao, was now out in the open. It was a dangerous vortex, yet at its center, there might exist his only sliver of hope.

With great effort, he moved his eyes toward the screen by the bed, which was still lit. It displayed a portion of the data stream from Tartarus Sector VII that had just been cracked. Although it had been filtered and shielded through many layers—Ling Yao would never let him see everything—the fragmented information regarding energy structures, abnormal frequency fluctuations, and the stability model of the Side Door was like rain after a long drought for him.

His brain automatically began to function, ignoring the extreme protests of his body as he cross-referenced these fragments with the Wuyin Star etchings and the Calante signals.

The degree of matching was startlingly high.

The energy leakage pattern of Sector VII and the generation mechanism of the Calante signals shared nearly the same source. Furthermore, the core algorithm of the Side Door stability model bore an inverse similarity to the harmonic signals used by the Wuyin Star control core to maintain the constraint field. One attempted to block it, while the other seemed to be trying to maintain the stability of the channel.

Could it be that the Side Door of Tartarus was not an accident, but the result of some deliberate human maintenance? And that mysterious unknown high-frequency signal?

Just then, the sliding door opened soundlessly. Ling Yao had returned.

He had reined in his outward emotions, restoring his usual cold indifference, though the layer of ice deep in his eyes seemed to have thickened. He held a data pad and walked directly to the bedside, turning the screen toward Yun Shu.

It displayed a complex physiological data model of a human body with extremely detailed parameters. It was Yun Shu’s own medical report, but several key indicators were deliberately highlighted with the word “CRITICAL” in red next to them.

“You have less time than expected,” Ling Yao’s voice had no ups or downs, as if he were stating a fact unrelated to himself. “The erosion speed of the Crystal-Erosion crystals on your nervous system has increased by 37% after this high-intensity interface. Following this trend, even with the Empire’s best suppressants, your brain function will completely decline within fifteen standard days.”

It was a cold sentence, delivered without the slightest euphemism.

Yun Shu’s heart constricted slightly, but his face showed no surprise or fear. Only his eyelashes fluttered gently. He had long accepted this outcome; he just hadn’t expected it to come so quickly.

“So,” he spoke raspy, his breath weak, “is the Marshal here to notify me of my expiration date?”

Ling Yao gave a cold snort. He slid his finger across the data pad and pulled up another document: the data summary for “Fragments of the Fallen Star Era-07” that he had promised earlier. The specific frequency parameter capable of producing a negative resonance with the Crystal-Erosion bioelectric harmonics—the one with potential inhibitory effects—was prominently listed.

“I am a man of my word.” Ling Yao’s gaze fell on that frequency parameter, then he looked up at Yun Shu. “Your performance earned you this. However,” he shifted his tone, his voice suddenly becoming intensely oppressive, “merely knowing the frequency is not enough. You need the corresponding energy generator blueprints, a compatible medical environment, and a long enough period of application and observation. None of these are things you can accomplish alone given your current situation and remaining time.”

Yun Shu remained silent. He knew Ling Yao was telling the truth. Hope was within reach, yet it remained as far as the horizon.

“What I can give you is more than just a frequency parameter.” Ling Yao leaned down, his arms propped on the edge of the bed, once again shrouvling Yun Shu in his shadow. His voice was low, carrying a cold, seductive power. “I can give you a chance. A real chance to access these technologies and perhaps even survive.”

Yun Shu’s heart hammered. He met Ling Yao’s gaze and saw undisguised ambition and calculation beneath that frozen sea.

“What is the price?” Yun Shu asked directly, his voice dry.

“Your loyalty,” Ling Yao answered just as directly. “Not to Xilan, but to me. Your wisdom and all your abilities will be used only by me from now on. Assist me in uncovering the mysteries of Tartarus, dealing with the Council’s troubles, and obtaining what I want.”

He paused, his gaze sharp as a blade as if to dissect Yun Shu’s soul. “In return, I will provide all the resources you need, delay your death, and even—if that thing eventually proves effective—I do not mind letting you be its first beneficiary. This is a trade, Yun Shu. Use your remaining value and absolute obedience to gamble on a faint chance of survival. Or—”

Ling Yao did not finish, but the implication was crystal clear. Or, lose all value now and vanish silently in some corner of this starship.

The cell fell into a dead silence. Only the ticking of the monitor beat out a heart-stopping rhythm.

Yun Shu closed his eyes. A massive sense of exhaustion and absurdity swept over him. From being the Chief Architect of Xilan to a prisoner of the Empire, and now being forced to strike a life-and-death contract with a Marshal who was equally in peril, caught in the crack between two empires.

Did he have a choice? For Xilan, he needed to stay alive to obtain the technology that could save billions of his people. And now, the only one who could provide all of this was the dangerously unpredictable man before him.

Trust? There was none to speak of. This was merely a cold gambit based on absolute interests and mutual exploitation.

He slowly opened his eyes, his pupils filled with a calm resolve, like a traveler who had stopped struggling and was sinking into a frozen sea while gripping his only dagger.

“I need to first see the complete energy field construction formula for ‘Fragments of the Fallen Star Era-07’ and the basic design principles for the generator,” he stated his conditions. Though his voice was weak, it carried an unquestionable persistence. “This is the first step in verifying the feasibility of the trade.”

Ling Yao stared at him, seemingly trying to find any hint of hypocrisy or hesitation. After a moment, a cold curve formed at the corner of his mouth.

“Very well.” He operated the data pad, transmitting a portion of encrypted technical data to Yun Shu’s isolated screen. “You have six hours to verify. In six hours, I want to hear your answer, as well as the results of your preliminary analysis of the Sector VII data.”

Having said that, he did not stay any longer and strode out. The sliding door closed.

Yun Shu took a deep breath, suppressing the metallic taste in his throat. He threw all his focus into the incredibly complex formulas and blueprints on the screen. His brain went into overload again, creating a cruel contrast with his extreme physical weakness.

Time was short. He had to confirm the truth of this hope as quickly as possible and produce an analytical result significant enough for Ling Yao to value.

Four hours later, he slumped down, his sweat nearly soaking the bedsheets. Dark spots flashed before his eyes. However, a faint but real spark was ignited in his clear eyes.

The formulas were real! That frequency actually existed! Although the design principles for the generator were extremely advanced, the logic was self-consistent. This path might actually work.

He rested for a moment, struggling to sit up slightly to process the Sector VII data. Combining this with his previous findings, he soon reached a startling hypothesis. He organized his analysis into a concise report and sent it to Ling Yao as the deadline approached.

The core conclusions of the report were twofold:

1. 1. The energy characteristics of the Side Door in Sector VII share a high similarity with the energy signatures of certain weapons used previously by the leader of the Snatchers. This suggests that the Snatchers may be related to the Tartarus anomaly or even that unknown high-frequency signal.

1. 1. The stability model of the Side Door requires a resonance core prepared from an extremely rare crystal known as Glimmering Shadow Ore. The only known source of this ore is an abandoned mining site in an asteroid belt called The Reef, located in the buffer zone between the Empire and Xilan.

This report provided both a directional lead—the Snatchers—and a specific, actionable target. Its value was unquestionable.

A few minutes later, Ling Yao’s communication came through. His voice betrayed no emotion, but his speaking speed was slightly faster. “The Reef mining site. Interesting. It seems our next destination is decided.”

He paused, appearing to issue orders to his subordinates. “Adjust course. Target: The Reef asteroid belt. Maximum combat readiness. Notify the Marines to prepare for mine exploration and seizure operations.”

After issuing the orders, his voice turned back to Yun Shu. “Your answer?”

Yun Shu leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes wearily. He softly yet clearly uttered one word: “…Yes.”

That one word finalized the dangerous trade, binding his fate even more tightly to that of the Imperial Marshal.

Ling Yao’s end went silent for a moment, perhaps finding this unsurprising answer a bit dull, or perhaps it was something else. Finally, he only replied coldly:

“Very well. Remember your choice. And remember the price of betrayal.”

The communication cut off. The starship vibrated slightly as it began preparations for a new jump, its course set toward the unknown and perilous star region of The Reef.

Yun Shu lay alone on the cold medical bed, feeling the slight vibrations of the engines starting travel through his entire body. He slowly clenched his fist.