On the Tibetan Plateau, tucked away in a remote mountain bend of Everest, sat a small outpost belonging to the Tibet Military Region. It wasn’t large—just a few barracks, a perimeter wall, and two guard towers…
On the maps of the Tibet Military Region, the Southwest Military Region, the General Staff Department, and the Ministry of National Defense, this outpost was listed as nothing more than an ordinary post, with no special markings whatsoever.
And to the occasional herders who passed by at a distance, it looked perfectly mundane—which it was, in terms of its day-to-day duties.
But tonight, a helicopter roared through the darkness, churning up the falling snow as it approached the outpost and descended in front of it. The middle-aged man who had once discussed Xu Ze with the Eagle-Eyed Elder in the capital tightened his coat, waited for the attendant to open the hatch, and stepped out slowly.
He took in the surroundings and let out a soft sigh. His family had invested so much for this place—he truly hoped the returns would be worth it.
A few soldiers were already waiting nearby. Upon seeing the middle-aged man step off the helicopter, they saluted solemnly. “General Zhang…”
Wearing a thick military-issue cotton coat, General Zhang returned the salute and made his way toward the barracks.
As they entered, an officer was sitting at a desk in the center of the room, staring at a computer screen. He didn’t look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Instead, he tapped a few keys, and a panel on the desk popped open, revealing a blue-lit touchscreen beneath.
The officer placed his hand on the screen. A faint fluorescent glow swept across it, followed by a soft beep. Behind him, a bookshelf slid silently to the side, exposing a solid alloy door.
One of the officers escorting General Zhang stepped forward, pressed his hand against a small panel on the door, and waited for another fluorescent scan. With a soft click, a password input panel emerged. After he entered the code, the alloy door swung open to reveal a small, empty room.
General Zhang stepped inside first, followed by the officers. Once they were all in, the door closed behind them, and the bookshelf slid back into place, as if nothing had happened.
The small room then descended automatically. After a dull thud indicated they had reached the bottom, the door opened again.
General Zhang and the others stepped out of the elevator and walked down a corridor for several dozen meters until they reached another alloy door.
But as they approached, this door slid open automatically, and a wave of bustling activity washed over them.
It was a massive space—at least a thousand square meters—filled with rows of computers. Nearly a hundred workers in white lab coats were moving about, some operating consoles, others holding documents and engaged in heated discussions…
General Zhang surveyed the scene with satisfaction, then turned left and passed through another corridor before entering an office.
The office was roughly a hundred square meters and relatively quiet. At the far end hung a massive screen; below it, two rows of computers faced a dozen or so staff members.
Hearing footsteps, all the staff turned around. Seeing General Zhang at the front, they quickly stood and saluted. “General!”
General Zhang let his attendant remove his cotton coat, returned the salute, and sat down. “Give me a full briefing,” he said.
“Yes, General,” replied a white-haired staff member. He pressed a key on his console, and the large display flickered to life.
Picking up a laser pointer, the staff member began his explanation.
“At approximately 11 a.m. on the 28th, the signal tower detected an abnormal energy fluctuation originating from within Lima, in Africa. After analyzing the recorded data, we found that this fluctuation closely resembles the one recorded by this base ten years ago.”
The staff member’s voice grew excited. “Through over a decade of effort, we’ve been able to partially decode the information carried by this type of energy wave, using existing data. The message it carries is one of contact—identical to the signal emitted by this ancient ruin years ago. Therefore, we can confirm that this is the second ancient ruin…”
“Moreover, based on the information transmitted, the site is capable of emitting powerful energy interference, indicating that the ancient ruin still has sufficient energy to sustain operation…”
At this point, General Zhang’s head snapped up. This was exactly what he had come to verify. He fixed his gaze on the staff member. “Professor Ji, can you be certain this second ruin is still self-sustaining?”
Professor Ji nodded excitedly. “Yes, General, I’m certain. Though we don’t know how much longer the energy reserves will hold out…”
“Good…” General Zhang stood abruptly and asked, “Professor Ji, if we were to send a team there, would it be possible to gain control?”
“Well… that might be rather difficult…” Professor Ji considered for a moment. “Although we can confirm that both ruins are similar ancient sites, the data and control protocols we’ve acquired here may not pass their authentication systems. If authentication fails, we might have to resort to a direct assault… and then try to seize control by force.”
“By force?” General Zhang drew in a sharp breath. Was that even feasible? Had it not been for the fact that this ruin’s energy had long been depleted, he never could have breached it—let alone occupy the peripheral control center.
Back then, they had used massive amounts of high-yield explosives and lost over a hundred lives just to get inside. If they had to assault an active, energy-sustained ruin head-on, they’d need heavy weapons and a full-scale military operation…
But the site was in Lima, Africa—not Chinese territory, nor this remote, uninhabited foothill of Everest. There was no way to mount such an assault.
General Zhang sighed softly. “Speed up the completion of the communication interface tools. We’ll send someone over to try and crack the control systems. As for a direct assault—that’s not happening anytime soon.”
“Yes, General. We’ll do our utmost,” Professor Ji replied, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes.
General Zhang stared at the blinking red dot on the screen and the satellite imagery of the site, a gleam of obsession in his eyes.
After a long pause, he turned back to Professor Ji. “What’s the current progress on deciphering this ancient ruin’s base?”
“The outer control center is mostly under our control, but progress on the internal systems has been excruciatingly slow due to energy shortages,” Professor Ji said helplessly. “General, you must find a way to procure more fuel rods. Otherwise, we simply cannot push further.”
“I’ll do what I can,” General Zhang replied, though irritation stirred within him. If it weren’t for that meddling Xu kid, his people would have already secured those key positions, and acquiring fuel rods would have been trivial.
His gaze returned to the large display, which showed a map of the ancient base. Most of it lay in dark, unexplored shadow—only a small perimeter area was illuminated.
Recalling that even within that tiny outer zone, he had acquired several energy weapons far beyond modern technology, his eyes burned with renewed fervor as he stared at the vast darkness. “We must gain full control of this ancient civilization’s base as soon as possible. If we can crack the core area, maybe—just maybe—we can command everything…”
After treating his friends to a farewell meal, Xu Ze finally boarded a flight from Star City to the capital the next day.
He had received word that the Chairman would personally confer his rank and medals the following afternoon, so he had said an early goodbye to Sun Lingfei and headed for the capital.
On the plane, Xu Ze practiced his energy cycle meditation. He was seizing every possible moment to train relentlessly. His goal was singular: reach Level Five Medic as quickly as possible. For now, he was only Level Three—still a long way from Level Five—so he couldn’t afford to slack off.
His position at the General Staff Department had also been finalized. Minister Yang had approved Elder Li’s recommendation, appointing him Deputy Director of the Special Operations Division, along with the title of Staff Officer for Confidential Affairs.
It was a fitting role for him at this stage. His responsibilities were relatively narrow: mainly overseeing special operations training and command. And those duties weren’t overly demanding, since most units had their own instructors, and the General Staff also had a separate Training Department for routine matters.
Xu Ze’s job was to conduct periodic evaluations, provide specialized training for elite units, and offer advisory and command support during certain special operations.
So as long as he fulfilled his assigned tasks, he’d have plenty of free time. Xu Ze was even considering contacting Professor Guo Lingyun at Capital Medical University—the one who had once invited him to pursue a master’s degree in the capital—to formally enroll as a graduate student.
Back in his freshman year, an older student had told him it never hurt to collect more credentials. Though Xu Ze didn’t need them to make a living, experience had taught him they couldn’t hurt. Besides, clinical medicine was his true calling and genuine interest—he couldn’t just abandon it.
Once he landed, a driver was already waiting to pick him up. As a senior officer at the General Staff, Xu Ze was entitled to his own quarters—he wouldn’t be staying in barracks or dormitories. Elder Li had offered him a room at his courtyard home.
But Xu Ze wasn’t keen on that. His top priority was to advance his energy cycle cultivation, and he needed a place with abundant spiritual energy.
Elder Li’s courtyard, while quiet, was nothing special in terms of energy. So though Xu Ze was nominally staying there, he had arranged with the National Security Bureau’s local base—through Captain Li—to borrow a room for a while.
Captain Li was more than happy to agree. Having Xu Ze around meant he could get the young officers trained properly; after all, it wouldn’t be right for Instructor Xu to eat and sleep there for free without putting in some work.
After settling in with Elder Li, Xu泽 grabbed a car and headed to the NSA base. His Maserati had been shipped to the capital by Tang Zhi, but driving that to the General Staff every day wasn’t really appropriate. Elder Li had already arranged something better: a black Land Rover with General Staff plates—low-key and reliable.
It took over an hour for Xu Ze to reach the NSA base. He took a moment to sense his surroundings and nodded approvingly. It was indeed far from the city, but the spiritual energy here was excellent—something nothing else could replace.
Captain Li hadn’t yet heard about Xu Ze’s promotion to Senior Colonel. As soon as Xu Ze arrived, he wasted no time gathering a group of people for a lavish welcome banquet, downing ten-plus bottles of Erguotou to toast his arrival.
Xu Ze was fine, of course, but more than half a dozen NSA officers ended up face-down on the table.
Early the next morning, Xu Ze dressed neatly in his crisp Lieutenant Colonel’s uniform and reported to the General Staff Department. After meeting with General Yang Guanglian and Vice Minister Wang and receiving their warm encouragement, he was escorted by Major General Zhao Yilong, Director of the General Staff Office, to the Operations Division for his official assignment.
The Operations Division Director was Lieutenant General Luo Jiang, and the Special Operations Division Director was Major General Lin Beijia. Since his duties had already been arranged, Xu Ze only had a brief discussion with the two generals before Major General Lin led him to the Special Operations Division to formally assume his post.
Major General Lin was in his early fifties, of medium build, with short hair and piercing, sharp eyes that radiated intensity and a hint of danger. Xu Ze could tell at a glance that this major general was no ordinary man—clearly a formidable fighter.
As General Lin led Xu Ze toward the Special Operations Division, neither spoke. But Lin was quietly observing the young man behind him…
