I built an armada.

A huge, indescribable warm current suddenly broke through the defenses I had maintained for so many days. All the fear, lingering apprehension, and grievances... mixed with an unspeakable burning passion surged wildly!

Qin Mingzhu suddenly lowered her head, biting her teeth hard on the rough edge of the military blanket. Salty tears still rolled down her cheeks uncontrollably, splashing onto the cold, hard flight deck and leaving a small, deep stain. In her heart, that name stirred up ripples that could not be calmed.

"Buzz...buzz..."

The massive steel cables of the cargo port gantry crane emitted a dull groan of friction. Two heavy-duty, sealed transport containers, each nearly three meters long and wide and dark green, covered in seawater salt stains and bearing several bullet holes and scratches, were carefully hoisted and placed onto the special base of a military-green heavy-duty container truck, resembling two enormous steles retrieved from the deep sea.

The setting sun cast long, slanted shadows on the towering steel frames of the gantry cranes in the harbor. Beside the military berths of the Shenzhen-Hong Kong border, the atmosphere of martial law lingered, the air still carrying the coolness of the sea and the smell of sun-baked steel.

Su Dingping stood beside the heavy truck waiting to be loaded with equipment, wearing only the most ordinary dark blue canvas work jacket. The sea breeze lifted his slightly messy black hair hanging over his forehead, revealing his eyes, which seemed to hold endless storms within their calmness.

A black bulletproof SUV with a special pass passed through several checkpoints and quietly came to a stop in an open area not far behind Su Dingping.

The car door opened, and Qin Mingzhu stepped out, her figure somewhat unsteady.

The marks of the hardships she had endured over the past few days and nights were still visible on her brows; her skin was pale, and there were deep, unyielding shadows of fatigue in the depths of her eyes.

However, when she changed into a clean and tidy set of custom-made trousers and a beige trench coat, she regained some of her powerful businesswoman aura.

But when her gaze first fell upon that familiar figure in a wrinkled work jacket, all her strength, all her pretense... seemed to have been stripped of its foundation!
A sour, astringent taste suddenly rushed into my nasal cavity!
It was him! It was him! The belief that sustained her through countless darknesses!

That resounding "Welcome home" echoed for thousands of miles, like a lighthouse on the edge of despair!
"Ding... Brother Ping!"

A broken, tearful whisper almost escaped his lips!

Su Dingping turned around abruptly upon hearing the sound!
The golden-red rays of the setting sun outlined a scorching halo around Qin Mingzhu's staggering figure as she ran towards them.

Completely ignoring the chaotic and rapid sound of her shiny high heels hitting the cold cement floor, and disregarding the gazes cast by the soldiers on duty around her, she suddenly plunged into Su Dingping's open arms!
The cold work jacket was instantly soaked! Scalding tears gushed out, scorching the fabric! Qin Mingzhu buried her face in Su Dingping's arms, which smelled of machine oil and metallic dust, her thin shoulder blades heaving violently from the suppressed sobs!

"...I'm so scared...I'm so scared..."

Her intermittent sobs rose and fell, muffled like those of a small animal that had finally found its harbor after suffering countless grievances; every word carried the trembling and weakness that only a survivor could release.

"...So many guns...The seawater was so black...The reefs were freezing...Those people's eyes were like wolves..."

Su Dingping neither moved nor spoke.

He simply used his hands, which were stained with the cold smell of engine oil, to pat Qin Mingzhu's violently trembling back twice, albeit clumsily but with great determination, as if to soothe her.

Then, he tightened his arms slightly, holding the woman who had endured hellish torment firmly in the small haven of his chest.

His eyes, which were always focused like the stars and the sea, now held a chilling anger and... a deep-seated guilt.

After a long while, the harbor wind blew by, bringing with it the dampness of the open ocean.

Qin Mingzhu's crying gradually subsided, turning into occasional sobs on her shoulder.

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen like a rabbit's, and her cheeks still wet with the traces of tears.

"I'm sorry..."

Her voice was terribly hoarse. She sniffed and tried to force a smile, but it looked worse than crying.

"Just got off the ship...couldn't hold back..."

Su Dingping shook his head, raised his hand, and gently wiped away the last trace of tears from the corner of her eye with his calloused thumb.

This simple action made Qin Mingzhu's heart skip a beat.

He raised his head, no longer looking at Qin Mingzhu, and his gaze fell on the truck loaded with heavy goods.

The huge, military-green shipping container, like a silent behemoth, cast a heavy shadow in the evening light.

"It's good that you're back."

Su Dingping spoke again, his voice deep and clearer than the harbor wind, carrying a strange, comforting power.

He paused, then refocused his gaze on Qin Mingzhu's slightly confused and guilty face.

Then, extremely rarely! Su Dingping's lips curved upwards into a small, yet warm and genuine smile!
Welcome home.

Four words! Without any embellishment, yet like a bullet carrying warmth! They slammed into the deepest recesses of Qin Mingzhu's heart, hollowed out by fear and lingering dread!

All the wandering, fear, and darkness... vanish before these four words!

"Home……"

Qin Mingzhu choked up, and the tears that had just subsided surged forth again!
This time it wasn't a release of lingering fear, but rather the impact of a tremendous sense of belonging, like the dust had settled and I was returning to my homeland!

She bit her lower lip hard, nodded vigorously, and tears dripped onto the cement floor.

The distant sirens of the port emitted a long, drawn-out clarification.

Following Su Dingping's gaze, Qin Mingzhu also looked at the two huge transport containers that had been carefully hoisted and secured.

She took a deep breath, suppressing her turbulent emotions, and stepped forward to stand close to Su Dingping. The sea breeze ruffled her hair.

“Brother Dingping…”

Qin Mingzhu looked at the mottled scratches and faint traces of foreign characters on the shipping box, her voice nasal from crying and tinged with a clear sense of regret.

"...I got the equipment back...but this model..."

She pursed her lips.

"...It's an old model that the Germans phased out three years ago and banned from export..."

Her words carried a heavy sense of powerlessness. What they had risked so much to retrieve was still someone else's outdated goods.

Su Dingping did not answer immediately. He stepped forward and stood beside the heavy truck.

He raised his hand, not to touch the cold outer wall of the container, but to extend his index finger, his fingertip hovering with a strange focus in the air less than a centimeter in front of the thick special steel plate of the transport container, as if touching something invisible—more like sensing the pulse of the "obsolete" system that was once monopolized by advanced countries through the thick metal shell.

The setting sun over the port was like melting gold, its light dazzling.

Su Dingping's fingertips suddenly stopped! They hovered there!
His gaze suddenly sharpened, becoming as keen as a sword about to be drawn from its sheath!
The corners of his lips still held a slight smile welcoming Qin Mingzhu home, but the words he spoke carried an absolute domineering air, as if he were looking down into the abyss and cutting through the wind and waves!

"model?"

He turned his head! His gaze, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, swept over the sturdy container of the shipping box! It also swept over Qin Mingzhu's tearful eyes, filled with regret and worry!

"...They've come to Longxia..."

Su Dingping's voice wasn't loud, but it was like the clash of metal! Every word carried immense power!

"...and it will quickly become a 'model' that even the Germans can't catch up with!"

In the Oval Office of the White House, a silent shadow hung from the giant American flag beside the dark walnut fireplace mantle. Grand Chief Trump of the Eagle Federation stood with his back to the large floor-to-ceiling window, the somber sunlight outside stretching his massive figure into a distorted black patch on the carpet.

From the gold-plated satellite phone receiver he clutched tightly in his hand came the crackling noise of electricity and the signature, curry-tongued, yet chillingly cold, ultimatum from Indian King Rahman.

"...Cooperation? Your Excellency Chief, our 'Ganges War God'-K electromagnetic pulse cannon can certainly continue to be tested in your fleet."

But the great war god Shiva of the three realms told me... without new nectar to nourish it, this cosmic-level technological ark can only sit in Mumbai harbor, drying its rust? The previous nectar was an offering from a past life; in this life... we have to recalculate..."

"Raman!!!"

Trump's fat face instantly turned a purplish-red, and the veins on his neck bulged out like earthworms coiled on a sausage!
He swung his fist, which was thick enough to kill a bull, and his furious roar nearly lifted the oak roof of the White House!

"You greedy, shameless, lowly scoundrel! Last month in the video conference, your people patted their chests and said that the electromagnetic pulse core had broken through the blockade! It could be loaded onto a ship for me to test at any time! And now you're talking to me about past lives and present lives?! Let me tell you!"
That batch of money—

He roared, spittle flying everywhere, but a string of greasy, grating, mocking laughter came from the other end of the phone, interrupting Trump's rant!

"Oh dear, my good chief."

The Indian king spoke in a hypocritical, drawn-out tone, as if he were soothing a tantrum-throwing foolish child.

"Don't be angry. How can you lead the great eagle if you get sick from anger? You know, technology is like a fragile lotus flower, it needs more... devout offerings to bloom! As for that little bit of insignificant... nectar before..."

Raman's voice suddenly turned cold, like a gust of wind blowing from an ice cave!

"That was the oil from the eternal lamps lit by our holy scientists for the great god Shiva! It has long been washed clean by the holy water of the Ganges! What? Does the mighty Eagle Chieftain want to take it back from the poor Ganges believers?"

"you……!!"

Trump's eyes bulged so wide they looked like they were about to burst! A strange "hoarse" sound came from his throat, like a bloody bone was stuck in his throat! The immense humiliation and rage made his obese body tremble like a leaf, and his chest felt so tight it felt like it was about to explode!

He'd been caught in the crossfire of this slippery eel! His initial investment was astronomical! Now he hadn't gotten a single thing, and instead, the other party was using it against him!
This is a hundred thousand times more disgusting than swallowing a fly! The entire office was deathly silent except for his heavy, broken bellows-like breathing and the faint, seemingly mocking, melodious Indian music coming from the receiver!
Trump clenched his back teeth so hard they made a grinding sound!

He could even picture the dark-skinned Indian king on the other end of the phone, smugly twirling that sandalwood bracelet between his fingers! The priceless antique globe in the office seemed to be mocking him!

Endure! You must endure!
The stunning footage of Longxia's damned Type 055 destroyer leading the fleet through the Cross Strait, and the overwhelming headlines in domestic news media such as "Great Rescue" and "Eastern Shield"!

And then there were the sharp questions from those greedy hyenas on Capitol Hill questioning whether there was a vacuum in the Eagle's maritime hegemony... It was like countless needles pricking his nerves!

He, the Eagle, needs this electromagnetic card! He needs to seize the moment when Longxia is at its peak and open the eyes of the whole world to see—who holds the key to the future!
"call……"

Trump tilted his massive head back and let out a heavy, inhuman exhale, like that of a dying beast! His Adam's apple bobbed laboriously a few times, as if he were swallowing not air but a red-hot, poisonous block of lead!

His cloudy blue eyes were filled with bloodshot veins of resentment, twisted into a chilling smile.

"...Good...very good!"

His voice suddenly became unusually low and steady, without the slightest fluctuation.

“Master Raman. The Ganges’ appetite has once again opened my eyes today. Tell me… how much ‘offering’ is needed this time to bring Shiva’s radiance to the decks of our warships within a month?”

"That's more like it!"

The Indian king's tone immediately became cheerful, as if the guy who had just been blatantly extorting money wasn't him at all.

"Your Excellency is truly wise and understanding! Not much! Not much! Just a tiny bit... 10 billion US dollars! Same as always, cash settlement in US dollars! Transferred to my private fund account in London..."

He emphasized the word "private".

"Money in place! Thirty days from now, you will receive the 'holy light purification' of your electronic devices from Shiva at the coordinates of the warship you specify! Live video broadcast! Witnessed globally!"

"drop--!"

The call was abruptly and decisively disconnected by the Indian guy! Only an empty busy tone remained!
"Waaaaahh ...

Trump could no longer contain himself!
Like a powder keg ignited, he slammed the solid gold satellite phone in his hand to the ground! The expensive Persian carpet was pierced through an unsightly hole by the heavy, sharp corner of the phone! Shards flew everywhere!

The top-grade mahogany desk next to him also became a tool for venting his anger, with snowflakes of confidential documents being swept into the air by his fat arms!

"Damn Indian bastards! Vampires! Liars! Scoundrels!!!"

He unleashed a torrent of vile and scathing curses in the most offensive and vile language of the Eagle Natives! His thick, fleshy hands pounded wildly on the desk! The entire office was filled with a suffocating rage! Several staff members and secretaries hid outside the door, not daring to even breathe!

After a long while, he collapsed to the ground, utterly exhausted, like a defeated ox that had been skinned but was still forced to keep pulling the millstone.

He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a specially made encrypted tablet, his fingers trembling violently with rage and humiliation, as he slammed down the video call request button...

The screen lit up! On the other end of the screen was the impeccably groomed, slicked-back black face of the Indian King Rahman, his beard meticulously trimmed. The background appeared to be the opulent study of the New Delhi royal palace, where a maid in a brightly colored saris was gracefully peeling grapes for him. (End of Chapter)