"You're a commoner who clawed his way up to General." Mu Zecheng poured himself a glass of water, sipping it slowly, his voice cold, sharp with sarcasm. "Your fame, your power—you've been eating into the military clans' pie, and they couldn't stand it. If they'd waited for you to solidify your power, it'd be too late to take you down."
He set the glass down, his jaw tight, anger simmering in his eyes. "They struck while you were out fighting—sabotaged the warship, the weapons, little things no one'd notice. Figured you'd lose the battle, die out there. Who'd find proof in a pile of broken metal and ash?"
He let out a bitter laugh, scoffing. "They probably planned to send their own troops in after you fell, clean up the mess, play the heroes. Whether you lived or died, your reputation'd be in ruins—and they'd milk it for all the public support they could get. Shame you didn't play by their rules. Killed the Bug Queen anyway, won the battle, even half-dead."
Pei You shot him a sharp glance, silent. Mu Zecheng shrugged, unapologetic. "Lot of people wanted to take you down, sure—but most soldiers? They'd never stoop to this kind of dirty trick. No honor in it."
"Right now? The only ones who had access to the warship and weapons, who could move fast enough to seize power the second you fell? It's the Xie family. No one else."
"Now they've got the Second Legion and your Seventh Legion. Old Man Xie's a Marshal, his son's a General now. Heh. A real military clan, through and through."
Mu Zecheng set his glass down hard on the desk, leaning back against it, his arms crossed over his chest, his voice hard. "You're a cripple now. Can you even fight the Xie family? Even if we had solid proof, you'd struggle to take them down. And right now? It's all just speculation. We've got nothing. Not a single shred of hard evidence."
"Quit the sarcasm." Pei You's voice was low, rough, no emotion in it—impossible to tell what he was thinking.
The second he spoke, Mu Zecheng snapped, his control breaking, veins popping on his neck, his voice rising. "PEI YOU! You're not my superior anymore! I'll talk how I want, and you can't stop me! You wanna get revenge, fine—but look at you! What're you gonna use? Your wheelchair? Your useless legs?! Why the hell did you take that hit for me? Huh? I could've gotten hurt, so what? I could've died, so what? As long as you were alive, the Seventh Legion was alive! Don't you get it?!"
He wasn't the only one hurt in that battle, not by a long shot. Pei You wasn't the only one who'd never fight again. Hundreds, thousands of their brothers had died, their bodies lost to the stars, never coming home.
Mu Zecheng's chest ached, a raw, burning pain. Close his eyes, and he saw their faces, their bodies, the blood, the chaos. And he'd survived, unharmed—saved by Pei You.
War meant casualties, he knew that. But this? This was a murder, a betrayal. A plot that had killed thousands of good men.
How could he not hate? How could he not hurt? How could he not blame himself?
He sank to the cold floor, his shoulders slumping, his voice breaking, almost a sob. "But now? We're stuck under that Xie brat's thumb! The Xie family! They killed thousands of our men, and now we've got to take orders from them! Pei You, what do we do? What the hell do the Seventh Legion's soldiers do now?!"
He knew he shouldn't blame Pei You, knew it wasn't his fault—but he couldn't hold it in anymore. If he didn't let it out, he'd go insane.
Pei You's eyes pricked, red at the edges. Dark, churning emotions swirled in his chest—grief, anger, hatred, guilt. A storm.
It was hard to say which of them hurt more, which of them blamed themselves more.
After a long, silent minute, when Mu Zecheng's breathing had calmed, Pei You spoke again, his voice cold, sharp, deadly calm. "Investigate everyone the Xie family's in contact with. If we're not strong enough to take them on alone? We use their enemies against them. The clans have been fighting each other for centuries—they'll jump at the chance to take the Xies down a peg."
"Got it." Mu Zecheng scrubbed a hand over his face, forcing a smile, trying to pull himself together. "I swear to God, you're impossible. Always so calm, so in control. Even now."
"Otherwise you wouldn't be here, throwing a tantrum in my study." They'd fought side by side for ten years—Pei You knew him, knew his anger, his grief, his guilt. Knew this was how he coped.
"Thought you'd yell at me for this." Mu Zecheng said, surprised. Pei You's temper was legendary—short, sharp, unforgiving. If he so much as made a tiny mistake on the battlefield, Pei You would chew him out, no mercy, no exceptions.
He'd screamed at Pei You, yelled, thrown a fit—and Pei You hadn't said a word to stop him. Why?
"Waste of breath." Pei You's eyes dropped to his lap, his fingers curling into fists, white-knuckled. He'd avenge his men, no matter what. Even if he was stuck in this wheelchair for the rest of his life, even if he never walked again. As long as his brain still worked, he'd make the Xies pay. A slow, painful death. "Mu Zecheng. Get ready for a long war."
"Yes, General." Mu Zecheng stood up, straightening his shirt, fixing his glasses. The messy, angry man was gone, replaced by the calm, refined strategist once more—like the breakdown had never happened. He spoke, his voice back to normal, businesslike. "What about Su Ling? What're you gonna do with him?"
He saw Pei You's eyebrows twitch, a tiny flicker of emotion—curiosity? Annoyance?—and spoke up before Pei You could answer. "Su Ling. Eighteen. Male Beta. Illegitimate son of Su Mingchuan, the second master of the Su clan. Lived with his mom until he was six, then Su Mingchuan brought him back to the Su clan, raised him as an adopted son."
"Su Mingchuan died seven years ago, though." Mu Zecheng pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes flicking to the comm in Pei You's hand, the data still there.
"I checked his school records. Skipped class, slacked off, his grades were always the worst—E-rank, bottom of the barrel. Ran with a bad crowd, bullied other kids. Got expelled for stealing and fighting, multiple times."
"After that? He fell in with those low-life layabouts we saw earlier. Petty theft turned to straight-up robbery—targeted kids, eight to twelve years old. Easy prey."
The evidence was rock solid in the comm, every detail, every crime. Mu Zecheng reported it all, no exaggeration, no bias. Pei You said nothing, his face blank—but his mind was racing.
This was nothing like the Su Ling he knew.
A thief, a bully, a man who robbed kids? This was the same kid who bought groceries every day, cooked, baked little cakes, grew plants on the balcony, took care of him, gentle and patient?
And the data said Su Ling was a Beta? Was he the only one who'd noticed Su Ling was really an Omega?
"Has he had any contact with the Xie family? Or any other military clans?" Pei You asked, his voice sharp, focused.
He hadn't died, not like his enemies had wanted. That made him a thorn in their side, a loose end they'd want to cut.
But right now, the clans were fighting over military power, tearing each other apart. Dozens of eyes were on him, watching his every move. They didn't dare make a move, not yet.
If they tried to kill him now, in the middle of this power struggle? One wrong move, one slip-up, and the other clans would pounce, use it as an excuse to take them down. Their power would be gone, in an instant.
Pei You knew it, they knew it. The mastermind behind the attack would be watching him, waiting for a mistake. One wrong step, and they'd strike, kill him without a second thought.
That's why he'd said nothing to anyone, not a single word, not even a syllable—except Mu Zecheng. To make them think he was mute, broken, useless.
He'd let the Su clan force this marriage on him, let the original Su Ling run wild, cause trouble—all to make them lower their guard, think he didn't care, think he was too far gone to fight back.
A useless cripple who couldn't move, couldn't speak? Not worth the effort to kill, not worth the risk.
Live to fight another day. That's all that mattered. Avenge the Seventh Legion.
And the Xie family? Now they had all the power, all the legions—they thought they were untouchable. They'd forgotten about him, a cripple rotting away on a backwater planet. Perfect. It gave him time to plan, to plot, to strike.
Su Ling was a surprise, though.
A weird little surprise, with a million secrets, his every move a mystery.
"No." Mu Zecheng shook his head, his answer firm. "The Su clan looks down on him for being an illegitimate son—his status is barely higher than a servant's. He went to a free public school, no chance to meet any clan kids, any important people."
In Mu Zecheng's eyes, Su Ling was a clever little Beta. Figured out that sticking with Pei You meant good food, a warm bed, no one bossing him around—way better than living as a nobody in the Su clan. That's why he'd cut ties with his old friends, cleaned up his act.
Maybe he had other plans—scamming Pei You out of money, something like that. But one thing was for sure: he had nothing to do with Pei You's injury, nothing to do with the military's power struggles.
That was all Pei You needed to hear. A tiny weight lifted off his chest, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. "Leave him be. Whatever he's planning, he can't cause any real trouble. Not here."
He hoped, deep down, that the sunny little boy wasn't just a perfect act, a mask for something darker. But who knew? In this world, everyone had a secret.
"You curious why I came back with him?" Mu Zecheng asked, a playful smirk on his face, resting his chin in his hand, teasing. "Saw a real pretty boy confessing to him, y'know. All sappy and dramatic."