TCPUAAV Chapter 134

 

 

If the inherited memories were real, then everything Ruan Shiqing had seen about the Zerg Queen and Queen Farah… was real as well.

 

This centuries-long war between humans and the Zerg could have ended over a decade ago. The Zerg Queen and Queen Farah—two powerful rulers—should never have died. After reaching an accord, they were supposed to lead their respective people toward peace and prosperity.

 

But in the end, everything was destroyed by a filthy conspiracy.

 

Even the truth of their deaths had been deliberately buried. Not even those closest to them knew the real story.

 

Ruan Shiqing glanced at Rong Heng, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes as he struggled with how to tell him the truth.

 

But that hesitation quickly gave way to resolve.

 

No matter how cruel or unbearable the truth, Rong Heng, as Queen Farah’s heir, had the right to know. Whether he could accept it or not, whatever he ultimately chose to do—Ruan Shiqing, as the one closest to him, as his partner—could only stand by his side.

 

If Rong Heng chose revenge, Ruan Shiqing would build him weapons and armies.

 

If he couldn’t accept it right now, then he wouldn’t be forced.

 

After they returned to the repair shop, Ruan Shiqing took his time organizing his thoughts. In the end, he not only shared everything about the “dream,” but also revealed the truth about where he came from.

 

It was a secret he hadn’t originally planned to share just yet. He’d thought there would be a better time someday, that he could wait until later to tell Rong Heng and the cubs. But reality had outpaced his plans. Too much had happened during his coma—things that couldn’t be explained without his origins.

 

Better to be honest from the beginning than to weave one lie after another to cover the first.

 

His voice was calm as he recounted everything.

 

Starting from his inexplicable transmigration, to the ambush that caused his coma—triggered by the shrieking cry of the newborn Zerg queen—which led to the awakening of the inherited memories. Through those memories, he had seen the truth of how the Zerg Queen and Queen Farah had died.

 

And finally, how he had fought to wake up—only to find himself back in his original world.

 

Only when he spoke about being nearly unable to return did a slight tremor appear in his voice.

 

In that world, he had lost both parents, had no family, and was raised in a government-run orphanage. Driven by gratitude, he studied hard, finished his academic path—bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate—at an accelerated pace, and entered a national research institute.

 

People often said he was a prodigy, shouldering critical projects at such a young age, destined for greatness. But only he knew—his long hours in the lab, his obsession with work—weren’t ambition. They were avoidance.

 

When others got off work, they had homes to return to, dates to attend. He had only a neat but cold dorm room. Nowhere else to go.

 

When you’ve been alone for so long, you don’t feel lonely. You don’t even notice it. But once you’ve experienced warmth and connection—returning to solitude becomes unbearable.

 

That sense of loneliness couldn’t be reasoned away. Back in his old world, surrounded by familiar colleagues and the noise of a bustling environment, he had felt lonely for the first time.

 

And for the first time, he realized—this familiar world was no longer his home. It didn’t belong to him.

 

He couldn’t stay.

 

Those emotions crept in slowly, like water heating to a boil. And he was the frog in the pot—only realizing it when it was already too late.

 

But such complicated feelings were hard to explain in words, and he wasn’t the type to expose his vulnerabilities. So he brushed past them in just a few words.

 

Instead, he turned his attention to Rong Heng.

 

From the moment he finished speaking, Rong Heng hadn’t said a word.

 

Ruan Shiqing couldn’t read anything from his expression. But he didn’t have to guess—learning that his mother hadn’t died a hero, but was murdered in a vile conspiracy… no one could take that calmly.

 

The calmer Rong Heng appeared, the more likely a storm was raging inside him.

 

Garland, standing nearby, also wore a deeply conflicted expression. The amount of information Ruan Shiqing had just laid out was staggering—and it even involved the true cause of the former queen’s death. Garland couldn’t help thinking of Siyan, far away in Sikkim.

 

Rong Heng didn’t know the truth about Queen Farah. But did Siyan?

 

Garland had briefly worked with the Emperor before and only had surface-level knowledge of the man. Still, even that had been enough for him to form a deep impression.

 

Calm, calculating, ruthless—even toward himself.

 

Could someone like that really be unaware of how his wife died?

 

Garland didn’t believe it.

 

Siyan had a sharp mind and a cold heart—he was unquestionably a qualified politician, and if he had so wished, he could have been a capable emperor as well.

 

Many outsiders believed that a frail, short-lived ancient human like him was unworthy of the throne. That Siyan ascended to the imperial seat was, in their eyes, merely the result of the Ymir bloodline being severed. According to imperial law, as the royal consort, he just so happened to qualify as a successor.

 

And he had even sold his looks, marrying Old Bart’s daughter.

 

But in his own view, whether it was Empress Thea Bart, Old Bart himself, or the other three magnates who controlled the lifeblood of the Empire—all were merely pieces on his chessboard.

 

He had schemed painstakingly to secure the throne, yet treated the Empire like a worn-out shoe. He personally ignited the flames of civil war. He had used every trick to get close to the financial oligarchs, to earn their trust and seize control of their lifelines—but not to solidify his own power. Instead, he turned them into puppets, leveraging the four great conglomerates to escalate and widen the civil conflict, provoking public outrage. Even the throne beneath him had grown perilously unstable.

 

Mortals, when they act, always have a purpose—good or bad.

 

But Siyan never followed common logic. No one could see through his aims.

 

And yet, now that he knew the truth behind Queen Farah’s death, he glanced at Rong Heng, a faint suspicion rising in his heart.

 

Perhaps it wasn’t that Siyan wanted nothing, but that what he sought was simply too vast.

 

No one could truly understand him—or if they did, they wouldn’t believe it.

 

After all, a madman is beyond the comprehension of the sane.

 

Garland seemed to have uncovered a secret too dangerous to speak aloud, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

 

It was, after all, a matter between father and son.

 

He’d heard of the strained and hostile relationship between Siyan and Rong Heng, but upon meeting Siyan himself, he began to doubt the rumors.

 

There was too much fog surrounding this father and son. He couldn’t tell truth from falsehood, and so didn’t dare to risk exposing anything carelessly.

 

After a brief pause for thought, he decided to take his leave.

 

Rong Heng’s emotions were visibly poor. There were surely things the young couple still needed to say to each other, and lingering here would only be an obstruction.

 

Ruan Shiqing made no effort to stop him, even using the excuse of seeing him out to leave the space to the silent Rong Heng.

 

The young cub, though unable to make sense of these complicated matters, could instinctively sense Rong Heng’s heavy mood.

 

His forehead tendrils swayed gently. Tilting his head in thought for a moment, he quietly padded after Ruan Shiqing.

 

The second floor fell silent. Only Rong Heng remained in the living room.

 

He still wore a blank expression. It was a long time before he moved—he picked up his smart device and quickly entered a string of communication codes, but at the last moment, deleted them without calling.

 

He repeated this process several times before finally closing the device and summoning Noah in a hoarse voice.

 

“Your Highness, good day.”

 

Noah had not been listening in on their conversation, and her voice was as cheerful as ever.

 

“Noah, you were created by my mother, and have always served her, correct?”

 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Noah replied with an unmistakable note of pride in her tone.

 

Rong Heng closed his eyes briefly, then continued his questions with a blank expression: “When Mother suddenly went to the front lines back then, you must have accompanied her, right?”

 

As Empress of a nation, it was expected that she personally lead troops and stabilize morale in times of war. At the same time, she had to manage an overwhelming load of state affairs. Even someone as powerful as a Ymir wasn’t omnipotent.

 

That was why Noah had been created.

 

Noah possessed advanced intelligence and was granted the same level of access as the Queen. She regularly assisted with governmental matters, so it stood to reason that she would accompany the Queen to the front lines when dealing with a Zerg tide.

 

Being non-human, she didn’t need to worry about the inconveniences of travel. Except in very rare circumstances, wherever the Queen was, Noah would be too.

 

If the Ymir Queen had truly been assassinated over a decade ago, there was no reason for Noah to know nothing about it. And yet, he had never heard her mention even a trace of suspicion.

 

A Ymir’s strength was something only those who had seen it firsthand could comprehend.

 

In Rong Heng’s eyes, his mother’s power was beyond doubt. Even in his early adolescence, he had been able to confront the Zerg. There was no reason to believe that his mother could not.

 

He had always harbored doubts about her death. Just how catastrophic must that Zerg tide have been to slay a Ymir?

 

He’d spent many years on the front lines, experienced countless Zerg tides, and still couldn’t imagine it.

 

But whether it was Siyan, or Noah, or even the entire world—they all told him the same thing: that his mother died in battle on the front lines.

 

Eventually, he accepted it. Stopped questioning it.

 

But thinking back now, wasn’t that laughable?

 

He wanted to interrogate Siyan—did he know the truth behind her death? If so, why had he hidden it all these years? Why had he allowed the real culprit to remain at large?

 

And as for Noah—was she truly unaware, or had she been lying to him too?

 

He was afraid to learn the truth. He couldn’t bring himself to confront Siyan. All he could do was test Noah.

 

But Noah’s response was as composed as ever, her steady contralto answering his question: “Yes, Your Highness.”

 

She had been by his side from childhood to adulthood and naturally knew him well. “Has something happened, Your Highness?”

 

Her reaction gave no indication of prior knowledge, but Rong Heng continued anyway: “I just received word that Mother didn’t die in battle. She was assassinated—murdered in a despicable plot.”

 

“That’s impossible!” Noah sounded even more agitated than he did. “I was with Her Majesty the entire time! That Zerg tide was unprecedented in its severity. The front line was on the brink of collapse—if the Queen hadn’t held firm alone, those Zerg might have broken through and invaded the Empire’s core. I saw it with my own eyes—Her Majesty surrounded, fighting alone…”

 

As she recalled the events, she narrated them in detail to Rong Heng. Being non-human, her memory of that battle was flawless and precise.

 

But Rong Heng asked her calmly, “Mother didn’t have the habit of carrying a smart terminal into battle. So how did you ‘see’ it?”

 

Raised by Queen Farah herself, Rong Heng was naturally familiar with her habits.

 

And Noah, who had worked in seamless tandem with the Queen, should have been even more so.

 

Her voice suddenly faltered, tinged with confusion. “That’s true… How did I see it?”

 

As an AI, she needed cameras and speakers to see and hear the outside world.

 

But in such a perilous situation, with the Queen lacking a smart device, Noah logically should have remained in the rear to assist with coordination. She shouldn’t have been able to witness the battle firsthand.

 

No matter how she searched her memory banks, she could find nothing beyond that vivid image seemingly engraved in her core data.

 

“How did I see it? How did I see it?” Noah’s voice began to glitch, repeating the question over and over.

 

It was like a program had hit a critical error.

 

Seeing her growing more unstable by the second, Rong Heng knew that if this continued, she would crash. He had no choice but to input a command and force her into sleep mode.

 

The stuttering loop cut off abruptly—but the doubts in Rong Heng’s mind did not.

 

On the contrary, they swelled like a snowball rolling downhill, growing larger and heavier with each passing second.

 

After a long silence, he once again opened his smart device, entered Siyan’s communication code, and pressed the call button.

 

Only this time, his eyes no longer showed hesitation or fear—only a resolute determination to uncover the truth.

 

 

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We’re finally getting the father-son showdown omg

 

Thanks for reading!

For every three ko-fis, I will upload a bonus chapter~