Night fell over the yard as Liu Yin dug a small pit in the soil, burying Tao Ying’s feet. Her eyelids grew heavy. “Good night,” she murmured, her voice soft and drowsy.
“Good night,” Liu Yin replied.
Her eyelids closed. Rooting deep into the earth, her body became a slender tree trunk. Green branches stretched toward the night sky, ready to gather dew, wind, and moonlight. Lush emerald leaves opened wide, full of youthful energy.
It was a young peach tree, one that had yet to bloom.
Liu Yin gathered her discarded clothes from the ground, folded them, and set them on a nearby table. A beam of cold light shot from his eyes, scanning the tree from root to crown to record its growth, health, and any sign of pests.
Once the data logged into his neural core, the light receded. He reached out to brush a green leaf. Tickled by his touch, the leaf curled inward, while neighboring leaves trembled in quiet protest at being disturbed.
“Sorry. Go back to sleep,” Liu Yin murmured, pulling his hand back.
He settled into a lounger beside the tree, watching her for a long moment before closing his eyes and leaning back.
The old dream claimed him again.
The world in his dream lay in absolute chaos—smoke, fires, war, and endless fields of corpses. Rivers ran red with blood. Before the Great Cosmic Convergence, foreign opportunists had eyed this land. When the convergence ended, they returned, armed with atavist strength and rapid advances in tech.
In the broad command center, Liu Yin existed like a monster reduced to a single head, wired into countless cables like a living computer. His vision linked directly to every surveillance camera across the province; his mind connected to every communication line. Not a single secret message could pass under his watch, nor could any spy slip through to steal classified data.
“General, please review this strategic plan…”
“General, is this weapon and food allocation optimal?”
“General…”
He belonged to the royal lineage of the cyborg clan—a union of science and theology, standing at the absolute peak of technology. Hualan and the world relied on him, leaning on his impossible processing power and a brain no supercomputer could match.
“Another victory! With the General guarding us, those invaders won’t cross our line!”
“I heard they caught more spies today!”
“Wait… one of them was Mr. Liang? How could that be? He led us to victory so many times. How could he sell us out?”
“Where’s the proof?”
“What proof do you need? Could the General be wrong? He saw things we couldn’t, or calculated it.”
“Still, without physical proof…”
“Shh! Quiet! Do you want to get yourself killed?”
Silence quickly settled over the mess hall. On the battlefield, soldiers followed his orders without question. But off the field, fear consumed them like skittish birds. They lived in dread of saying the wrong word, convinced every lens monitored their every breath.
Unless official business demanded it, no one ever entered his command center. It remained frozen, silent, and cold.
He guarded that single province like a wall, barring all foreign forces. Trusting his capability, central command directed reinforcements and supplies to other provinces first. One month stretched into three, then a year, two years, five years…
He stayed inside that cold room, searching through endless streams of data for enemies and traitors, numb from non-stop work.
Then one day, a face burst into one of his camera feeds.
It was a young girl about his age. She smiled bright, giving a crisp salute. “Hello, General! I’m Tao Yuan, reinforcement sent from central command. Please take care of me!”
He gave no reaction.
Puzzled, she leaned closer to the lens, checking if the connection had failed. She tapped the glass, wiped dust off with her coat sleeve, and peered inside. “Anyone there? General? Can you hear me?”
“Tao Yuan. What is it?” his voice echoed.
Her eyes lit up. Turning toward the speaker, she saluted again. “Report, General! I’m lost. Which way to command headquarters?”
“Use your ability. Ask the nearby trees.”
She flashed a bright grin. “Report, General! I’m too tired to use my ability.”
Liu Yin remained silent.
Tao Yuan loved to smile. She had a round face, round eyes, and rosy cheeks, looking like a sweet peach. In an era torn by war and constant loss, her presence rose like a warm sun, breaking into his solitary existence. During rare quiet moments, they sat together under a tree reading books. She leaned her head against his shoulder, light as a butterfly, making him hold his breath for fear of scaring her away.
Until the day she drew a blade and slit his throat.
“Fool. Did you actually believe me? I will never bloom for you. You’ll never see peach blossoms!”
“Ah Yin… Ah Yin, can you hear me?”
The voice blended with reality.
Liu Yin opened his eyes. Tao Ying stood right in front of him, her round face and bright eyes matching the face from his dream. Morning sunlight spilled over her shoulders, making him squint.
“I hear you,” he said.
They finished breakfast and headed to school, not knowing that several Tao family members left Mount Tao right after them.
Far from the school, a secret meeting took place.
Representatives from major Atavist families—including the Feng, Tang, and Chen clans—gathered in a hidden hall. Except for a few families no longer trusted, almost every prominent clan in Hualan sent delegates.
Security at the entrance stripped them of all electronic devices, ensuring no listening devices remained inside. Outside, Jin Ji adjusted his gold earring as he paced, unable to find a single signal to intercept. He bit his lip in frustration.
“No need to apologize. There’s no need to eavesdrop on their meeting,” Jing Pei’s calm voice reassured him over the phone.
Jing Pei held a small steel arrow, casually aiming at a target across her room. “Isn’t it obvious what they’re discussing? The Tao family agreed to help them capture Liu Yin during my birthday banquet. Now they’re just matching signals, routes, and choosing the right drug.”
Chu Xusheng’s expression turned grim, his crimson eyes gleaming with rare hostility. “They dare! Planning a riot right at the Long estate, on your coming-of-age ceremony!”
“It’s the best time and place,” Jing Pei said softly. “We sent invitations to Atavist families across the country, so gathering here won’t raise suspicion. Nobody expects trouble on an occasion like this. Naturally, Liu Yin won’t be on guard either.
“My guess is they’ll start with the food. A waiter offers a glass of wine, laced with poison. Once Liu Yin drinks it, the Tao family will lead him away toward a quiet spot. When the drug paralyzes him, they’ll kidnap him. Meanwhile, guests will be chatting in the main hall, completely oblivious to his disappearance.”
“Wait,” Chu Xusheng said, brow furrowed. “Liu Yin belongs to the highest tier of the cyborg clan, right? Won’t his body analyze the liquid the moment it touches his tongue?”
Jing Pei broke into a chuckle, dropping her stance. “Do you think his tongue is a lab scanner? Listing ingredients the second liquid enters his mouth?”
Chu Xusheng’s face flushed red. Though he had studied atavist records diligently, gaps remained in his knowledge.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Jing Pei said. “Just like your King Insect files, records on cyborg royalty are scarce. Nations erased parts of that history long ago.”
“Erased?” Chu Xusheng asked in surprise. “I thought nations preserved atavist intelligence to study enemy traits. Why erase it?”
“It involves dark history I’ll explain later,” Jing Pei said, re-aiming her arrow. “They’ve considered what happens if Liu Yin doesn’t fall for the trap. If a quiet kidnap fails…” She paused. “They’ll resort to force. Blood will spill at the banquet.”
The illegal organization would push the clans, dragging every family into deep water.
“They wouldn’t dare!” Chu Xusheng growled.
“They certainly dare. They’re gambling everything. If they secure Liu Yin, they gain absolute power.”
Chu Xusheng pressed his fists together. “How would Liu Yin help them? Do they have tech to rewrite his neural brain?”
Jing Pei smiled faintly. “Why make it complicated? They just need to kill him.”
Inside the secret meeting room of the illegal organization’s shareholders, silence fell as members processed the revelation that Liu Yin was Hualan’s surviving founding hero.
“How does capturing him break the Atavist families away from the government?” someone asked breaking the quiet.
The host gave a dark smile. “We won’t capture Liu Yin ourselves. The Atavist families will do it for us.”
“Why would the clans turn on him?”
“Even if he’s a founding hero, he’s still just one man. Would the government risk Hualan’s stability just over one individual?”
“Besides, capturing him is no easy task. He held an entire province single-handedly!”
The host gestured for patience. “Listen closely. Our agents convinced the Atavist families that capturing Liu Yin is their key to reclaiming lost power. Once they have him, the government will fear them and abandon plans to strip away their privileges. And the biggest hurdle—the Tao family—has agreed to assist in capturing and dissecting him.”
Silence stretched across the room, followed by heavy breaths as understanding dawned.
“Nations may deny it today, but after the Great Cosmic Convergence, human advances tied directly to the cyborg clan. Almost every piece of advanced tech bears their mark,” the host continued. “Liu Yin isn’t just any cyborg; he is cyborg royalty. Just like Six-Winged Angels or King Insects, he stands at the pinnacle of his species.
“That’s why he survived centuries and guarded the southern border alone. Back then, he represented the peak of technology on this planet. Today, he still does.”
Eyes gleamed with greed across the table.
“Imagine dissecting Liu Yin,” the host said softly. “Extracting technology far beyond current human knowledge. A clan possessing that data could leap ahead, creating tech to counter Hualan’s atavist weaponry. The Tao family took our bait. They want his body.”
Carve Liu Yin open. Remove every organ, every precision component crafted like a divine artifact, analyze every vessel, every inch of skin…
The Atavist families, previously lacking technological power, could overtake the government in a single stroke. The government’s weapons would no longer pose a threat.
The arrogant clan leaders believed this secured their future, blind to the truth: this action planted seeds for civil war. The government would never tolerate such betrayal, nor trust the Atavist families again.
Which was precisely what the organization wanted.
“Captain Black Iron and his squad will oversee the operation, assisting the clans in capturing Liu Yin,” the host added. “Our dissection experts will analyze his body immediately. Black Iron, you won’t show mercy, correct?”
A cyborg in the corner lifted his head, crimson light flashing in his mechanical eyes. “Are you joking? I’ll tear him apart. It’s what he owes the cyborg clan.”
“Excellent,” the host declared. “The plan is set. We host our grand feast on Long Jin’s coming-of-age day. Everyone, prepare yourselves.”
Back in the training room, Jing Pei lowered her bow, comforting her furious companion. “It’s my venue, my ceremony. I won’t let them run wild.”
Chu Xusheng unclenched his fists slightly, though resentment lingered. A young master’s coming-of-age ceremony should be a proud moment of celebration, not a battleground against scheming traitors.
“So we’re going to help them,” Jing Pei added casually. “We’ll slip Liu Yin the drug, keep Tao Ying quiet, and let them snatch him away without delay to their research lab.”
Chu Xusheng choked on his breath. “Cough! Master?!”
“Liu Yin belongs to cyborg royalty, born to lead his species. He possesses vast strength and longevity. Dissecting him won’t necessarily kill him right away,” Jing Pei explained smoothly. “He still carries human blood, which means his heart remains his fatal flaw. As long as his heart stays intact, a spark of life remains.”
Chu Xusheng watched her intently, listening for the rest.
“So after they carve him open,” Jing Pei smiled, releasing her final arrow, “I’ll play the mantis stalking the cicada—and claim his heart.”
Thump!
The arrow struck the exact center of the target.
“I want Liu Yin’s heart,” Jing Pei said softly. “There’s something inside it I must have.”
She put down her bow and turned toward the door. “Come on. Time for school.”
Chu Xusheng wiped a bead of cold sweat from his forehead, grabbing their bags to follow. At that moment, his master truly resembled a villain…
He flushed slightly. But she looked very cool.
