Chapter 58: A Failed Persuasion

Li Daoran bit his lip, then tried again from another angle: “Your duty is to protect Silversnake Star. Are you absolutely sure that if you leave, Silversnake Star won’t be attacked? If Silversnake Star does come under attack…”

“I’ll take it back, no matter what,” Wayne replied, his words sharp and decisive.

Li Daoran’s eyes narrowed; there was too much meaning hidden in that sentence.

“But…”

“No buts. A soldier’s primary directive is to obey orders. Since I have received the command to reinforce, unless new orders arrive, I will not turn back.” Wayne fixed his gaze on Li Daoran.

“The military order is fake. It must be fake. It was forged by Liu Meng. You know it. I’m sure you know it.” Li Daoran finally couldn’t restrain himself any longer and shouted.

Bear Mountain’s expression shifted slightly, but Wayne remained entirely unmoved.

“You admitted to a forged order on purpose for the sake of merit, because it benefits you. You get to go to the Knock Star System, turn the tide, and achieve a feat for the ages. But what about Liu Meng, who forged the order? Even if the Phili Empire doesn’t attack Silversnake Star, forging a military order is a capital offense—she’ll die for it. Did you ever consider that?” Li Daoran gathered his courage. At this point, he had nothing left to lose.

This time, Wayne finally slammed the table and barked at Li Daoran: “Enough. Be silent.”

Li Daoran wanted to speak again, but Bear Mountain gripped his shoulder, signaling him to hold his tongue, then looked at Wayne.

“As I said—do you have proof? If not, get out.” Wayne’s tone was cold as iron.

Li Daoran tried again, but Bear Mountain seized him by the collar, covered his mouth, gave Wayne a brief bow, and dragged him out of the room.

Once they were gone, Wayne pulled out a half-empty bottle of vodka from under the bed. Several empty bottles were scattered nearby—alcohol was prohibited aboard the starship, but a captain with a taste for drink always found ways. He took a deep swig, liquor running down his beard. He drank in haste, not caring that much of his treasured vodka was wasted. Setting the bottle down, he wiped his mouth.

From the desk drawer, he drew out a hand-drawn map covered in markings and spread it across the table. Staring at the map in silence, his eyes grew more resolute. He murmured, “If I say it’s real, then it’s real.”

Li Daoran fought desperately to break free from Bear Mountain’s grip, but compared to Bear Mountain’s strength, he was clearly outmatched.

Bear Mountain brought him back to his own quarters. Whether by chance or not, he shared a room with Deadweight—a small cabin with only one bunk bed.

Deadweight watched Bear Mountain drag Li Daoran in. Lying on the top bunk, he smacked his lips and said, “Bear Mountain, what did this kid do to make you bring him back for discipline? Let me have a look—I’ll think of a way to straighten him out, don’t you worry.”

Bear Mountain ignored him, tossing Li Daoran onto the bed. Li Daoran immediately rolled to his feet, intent on returning to Wayne. Bear Mountain extended an arm to block his way. “Sit down.”

Deadweight’s interest was piqued by the scene. With a somersault, he dropped from the upper bunk and peered at Li Daoran from behind Bear Mountain. “Well, you’ve got a temper, haven’t you? So what’d you do?”

“Step aside, Brother Bear,” Li Daoran said through gritted teeth.

Bear Mountain shook his head. “The captain is one of us. I trust the captain, but I trust Miss Liu even more.”

Deadweight looked at Bear Mountain, realizing things weren’t as he’d imagined. He’d assumed Bear Mountain brought back a troublemaker for a lesson, but the situation was far more intriguing.

“So what’s going on? Why are you two whispering riddles? The captain must be Wayne, that landlubber. Miss Liu, could she be that woman they call the White Stag’s Horn?”

Neither replied. Li Daoran bit his lip and said, “But Liu Meng is in danger, Brother Bear.”

“Worried about that woman? Hey, kid, who do you think you are?” Deadweight scoffed. “That woman—every strand of her hair is hollow. The men chasing after her could occupy the entire White Stag System. Each day, ten thousand people claim she’s in danger, but isn’t she still just fine? If you’re trying to win her favor with this kind of act, you’re wasting your time.”

Bear Mountain glared at Deadweight, who raised his hands and backed away, grinning apologetically. “Alright, too much, I apologize.”

With such a jester around, the conversation veered off course, but the tension eased.

“Let it go, Daoran. That’s enough,” came Chen Ming’s voice at last. Li Daoran closed his eyes and returned to Bluewater Star.

He switched off the livestream, then lay in his room for a long while; no one came to disturb him.

Eventually, he got up, opened the door, and without a word, sat down on the sofa.

“Alright, you’re grown up now, Daoran, stop acting like a child. Here, take a look at these online comments.” Chen Ming handed him a computer, displaying a lengthy analysis post.

The post fiercely criticized all of Li Daoran’s recent actions, dissecting the dangers involved and warning that one misstep could lead to utter disaster.

Yet, the post’s main target was not Li Daoran, but the head of Rabbit Country. In other words, Chen Ming was bearing the brunt of the backlash.

Li Daoran finished reading, fell silent for a long moment, then said to Chen Ming, “I’m sorry.”

Chen Ming shook his head with a smile. “It’s nothing. Start the livestream—we’ll discuss the rest later.”

Li Daoran glanced up at Chen Ming, puzzled, but did as he was told and started the stream.

“What Li Daoran did was done with my authorization, after thorough communication with our team. Mr. Li loves Miss Liu Meng deeply. For her safety, he did make some mistakes, and brought certain risks.

“But that is no reason for moral condemnation. What’s wrong with wanting to save the woman you love?

“Just because his life is tied to ours, does that mean he can’t act? We will not tolerate any attempt to morally coerce Mr. Li Daoran. He has the same personal freedoms as any of us, as guaranteed by all our nations.

“Of course, Mr. Li recognizes the risks brought by his actions and will strive to avoid similar incidents in the future, safeguarding our shared interests.” Chen Ming spoke to Li Daoran, and then David, Natasha, and others repeated the statement in their respective languages, making clear this was a consensus among the international representatives.

When they finished, the five bowed to Li Daoran. He stood there, little more than a camera stand, unsure what to say—there was no prepared speech this time, but he felt he had to say something, or he’d let many people down.

So he stood before a full-length mirror, bowed, and said, “Fellow citizens of all nations, I am Li Daoran. Hello, everyone. I am sorry to have caused you distress, but if I had to choose again, I would make the same decision. I am deeply grateful for your understanding, and I will be more careful about the risks my actions may bring in the future. Thank you.”

With that, he ended the livestream. Chen Ming and the others stared, momentarily speechless. Then Chen Ming applauded. “Honestly, you might as well have said nothing—now you’ve really drawn fire.”

Li Daoran shrugged, unconcerned. “I can’t let you take all the blame. After all, I did it. Besides, what can they do—kill me through the internet?”

Natasha burst out laughing, covering her mouth. “Daoran, you’re so brave—Sister is starting to like you.”

David scratched his head and asked, “When did you sleep with him?”

Immediately, he felt a sharp pain in his foot—Natasha’s eight-centimeter heel was no joke.

After the raunchy joke, everyone shared a laugh, but business couldn’t be delayed. Chen Ming clapped his hands and said, “Alright, enough jokes. Let’s get down to business.”

Everyone found their seats and settled in.