The villainous young lady is actually a scientific research genius!

The bow of the US destroyer veered to port, attempting to force its way past the 513 ship from its port side.

The 513 ship immediately adjusted its course.

The not-so-large ship's silhouette once again blocked the outside of the fishing boat evacuation channel.

Inside the bridge, Liang Haishan held the nautical chart with one hand, his gaze never leaving the sea ahead.

"Continue reporting the distance."

"Don't stop, not even once."

The first mate glanced at him and whispered a reminder: "The public channel is still on; nearby merchant ships can hear it."

"It's good to hear that."

Liang Haishan stared at the approaching destroyer, his voice steady.

"We need to make sure everyone hears it."

Soon, the news from the 513 ship spread across public channels again.

"The US warship was 7.2 nautical miles away from the Chinese frigate."

"There is a risk of collision between the two sides on their current course."

"The Huaxia 513 ship has repeatedly requested that the other party abide by the international rules for avoiding collisions at sea."

A nearby journalist boat immediately adjusted its camera to include both warships in the frame.

Three passing merchant ships also turned on their radios. Inside the bridge, the watch personnel were bent over their desks, recording the communications between the two sides, the warships' course, and changes in distance in their logbooks.

Every warning issued by the 513 ship was heard by a third party.

Every time the US warship approached, it was recorded.

On the sea, the two warships continued to approach each other.

The Haian-7, which was lagging behind the convoy, turned on its navigation lights.

Huang Yuanshan stood in the bridge, watching the two approaching ship shadows in the distance, took a deep breath, and grabbed the radio.

"This is the Chinese fishing boat Haian No. 7."

"Current location: 12 degrees 46 minutes North latitude, 114 degrees 21 minutes East longitude."

"This vessel holds a South China Sea fishing operation license and is currently fishing in its traditional operating area."

He paused for a moment, tightened his grip on the microphone, and then spoke each word clearly.

"Due to the approaching warship, this vessel is now taking evasive action in accordance with the fisheries administration's guidelines."

"This vessel gave way to ensure the safety of its crew!"

"But this does not mean we accept any unfounded eviction orders!"

There was a two-second silence on the radio.

Immediately afterwards, another slightly hoarse voice rang out.

"This is the Qiongyu No. 12."

"Current location: 12 degrees 47 minutes North latitude, 114 degrees 19 minutes East longitude."

"This vessel is licensed to operate and is now evacuating along the safe route."

The captain paused, as if to confirm that he hadn't misspoke, and then solemnly added:

"We are evacuating for our own safety, not to be expelled!"

Fisheries officials began taking roll call by boat number.

The third ship came aboard.

Then came the fourth one.

The fifth one.

As dusk settled over the sea, fishing lights began to illuminate the waves.

The ship names were transmitted one by one over the radio, all merging into the same public channel.

Haian No. 7.

Qiongyu No. 12.

Nanxing No. 3.

Haifeng No. 9

One after another.

The fishing boats whose names were called reported their locations, registration numbers, operating permits, and reasons for avoiding the call in turn. The recorders on shore simultaneously copied down all the information, leaving no one out.

Some people who didn't speak Mandarin very well read out the sentences taught by the fishery administration personnel, one word at a time.

Someone was so nervous that they mispronounced a number, hurriedly stopped, took a breath, and read it over from the beginning.

No ships rushed toward the warship.

No one was shouting that they were going to fight to the death.

These fishermen, who make a living at sea year-round, simply leave their identities, origins, and current activities clearly on public channels.

They fish here.

They have identification and names.

There were also people on the shore waiting for them to go home.

They chose to give way in order to return alive.

But that doesn't mean we have to give up this sea.

……

Inside the Changkong base, the recorder changed the recording paper one after another.

The communications from over a hundred fishing boats were continuously compiled, and the notebooks filled with handwriting soon covered the entire table.

Gu Zhaozhao checked the name of each ship against the dots on the radar one by one, and had people fill in the missing ship registration information and permit numbers.

Wen Che stood beside her, flipping through the increasingly thick stack of record sheets, and said in a low voice:

"This time, they can't just say that a few fishing boats of unknown origin trespassed into the exercise area, can they?"

Gu Zhaozhao held a pencil and filled in the direction the fishing boats left on the nautical chart.

"Every ship has a name, every person has a place of origin, and even the licenses have numbers."

She put down her pencil and looked at the stack of records on the table.

"Anyone who wants to rewrite what happened today has to rewrite all the evidence left by these hundred-plus ships."

On the sea, the US destroyer is still approaching.

"Six and a half nautical miles."

"5.9 nautical miles."

The 513 ship did not move aside.

In the distant airspace, two Candle Dragon aircraft remained on alert.

They did not fly over the carrier battle group, but their airborne radar and data links remained operational, and their intelligence communication with the 513 ship was never interrupted.

The cameras on the reporter's boat did not move away.

The pen on the merchant ship's bridge never stopped.

The fishery administration vessel is preserving all recorded communications.

If the US continues to push forward, what will be captured on camera will no longer be just "an unnamed fishing boat accidentally entering the exercise area".

It was the complete process of the aircraft carrier group approaching licensed Chinese fishermen and refusing to change course despite receiving multiple collision avoidance warnings.

"Five points and four nautical miles".

After the duty officer finished reporting the distance, his hand remained on the headset.

A few seconds later, his expression changed, and he suddenly looked up.

"The US destroyer has changed direction!"

There were no cheers in the operations room.

Everyone stared at the nautical chart, confirming each of the other party's next waypoints.

The markings representing the US destroyer began to shift eastward.

Immediately afterwards, the carrier strike group also adjusted its course, gradually leaving the fishing boats' operating area and turning towards the high seas exercise area they had previously announced.

Qin Beihai pressed down on the new flight path with a ruler and said in a deep voice:

"Let me confirm this again."

"Don't get too excited yet; be careful, it might be a feint."

Gu Zhaozhao did not rush to answer.

She checked two new waypoints in a row before her tense fingers relaxed slightly.

"It's not a feint."

"They've already moved beyond the approach line."

She picked up the phone, her speech remaining steady.

"The 513 ship will continue its escort mission and will not pursue the enemy."

"Zhulong, remain on high alert. Wait until the last malfunctioning fishing boat leaves the high-risk area before returning to port."

The Haian No. 7 released its towline and tethered one of the fishing boats that had malfunctioned.

The 513 ship stood guard on the outside of the convoy, accompanying the slowly moving convoy as it gradually moved northward at a speed of less than four knots.

As darkness fell completely, the last fishing boat finally entered the protection zone of the fishery administration fleet.

No collision occurred.

No one fired.

More than a hundred fishing boats, and not a single person was missing.

In the early hours of the morning, the complete communication record was sent to the central control center.

Ship name, location, permit number, U.S. warship's course, merchant ship's logbook, and footage taken by the journalist ship—all materials were compiled and archived, and included in the evidence list for subsequent international negotiations.

Qin Beihai leaned back in his chair, raised his hand to rub his throbbing brow bone, and let out a long breath.

"They haven't gotten the better of them twice in a row, surely they'll quiet down for a few days?"

Gu Zhaozhao slowly rolled up the nautical chart, but her face showed little sign of relaxation.

"If the aircraft carrier can't get there, and they can't make any noise in the media, they won't just give up like that."

Qin Beihai looked up at her.

"You mean, they'll switch hands?"

"Um."

Which hand?

Before Gu Zhaozhao could answer, a series of hurried footsteps came from outside the door.

The next moment, the door to the operations room was pushed open.

The duty officer strode in, clutching a urgent telegram just delivered by the Southwest Military Region, his face grim.

"Something has happened on the southwestern border."

The room suddenly fell silent.

Qin Beihai put down his hand that was rubbing his brow bone and sat up straight.

"What happened?"

"An unidentified armed group attacked our foreign aid engineering convoy."

He paused, as if those words were too heavy to utter.

"It has been confirmed that—"

There were casualties.