He had been tricked.
Qi Ying came to a sudden realization.
“Lu Mengzheng is extremely cautious about the medications we provide, and he won’t eat dishes with unusual odors either. It’s a pity that military-grade truth serum can’t be made colorless and odorless for now, and the fallout from a heavy-handed approach could impact the peace talks. After all, when he appears before the camera, we still want to display Jasu’s humanitarian treatment. We were troubled by this for a long time, yet three minutes ago, without expending a single soldier, you successfully injected a vial into this S-rank Alpha.”
“…” Qi Ying glared at him coldly. “You used me?”
Exploiting the tiny bit of trust Lu Mengzheng had just built in him through their day-and-night interactions. Fragile as it was, there had been a moment when Lu Mengzheng chose him without a shred of defense.
Yet Qi Ying’s credibility had been utterly squandered by the people before him. Beyond rage, there was only rage.
“Framing it that way isn’t quite appropriate, Mr. Qi.” Lu Chengjun sat down on the dining chair across from Lu Mengzheng, tapping his fingers rhythmically against the tabletop. “Aren’t you doing your job while taking the military’s paycheck? If that counts as being used, then yes, we are spending money to use you, and you were willing to be used.”
“…”
Qi Ying was struck speechless. A warden feeling sympathy for a prisoner was inherently a paradox.
“Of course, keeping you in the dark was our oversight, but think carefully about it—it doesn’t actually alter the outcome. Would you feel any better if we had held a gun to your head to force you to do this? This way, everyone gets what they want.”
Lu Chengjun flicked his chin in a gesture, and a soldier immediately approached Lu Mengzheng. Qi Ying stepped forward to stop them, but the dark, hollow muzzle of a gun was instantly leveled at him.
“Mr. Qi, you’re a smart man. Don’t do something foolish for a stranger.”
Forced to stop in his tracks, Qi Ying watched helplessly as the soldier injected another vial of transparent liquid into Lu Mengzheng.
Before long, the prisoner’s drooping head swayed, and he let out a sharp intake of breath, showing signs of regaining consciousness.
The pheromone monitor on Qi Ying’s wrist began chiming its alarm again, and he raised his hand to mute the sound. Under the influence of the truth serum, Lu Mengzheng’s pheromones were in a state of total chaos, crashing wildly about inside the containment cell. Qi Ying could clearly see the subtle, strained expressions on the faces of the surrounding Alphas as they tried their utmost to endure it.
The soldier stepped forward once more to lift his eyelids, inspecting them one by one, then glanced at his heart rate: “The drug has taken effect. Sir, you may begin the interrogation.”
Lu Chengjun nodded, leaning forward slightly with his elbows propped on the edge of the table: “Name?”
Dead silence filled the room.
Lu Mengzheng’s eyes were concealed behind slightly drooping strands of hair, his heterochromatic pupils shrouded in deep shadow. Qi Ying watched as his face turned pale, answering with his own name in a dazed, lifeless voice.
“Lu Mengzheng.”
“Lu Mengzheng, what is your identity?”
Qi Ying felt a sharp, tugging pain deep within his chest, unconsciously clenching his fingers tightly.
“Commander of the 11th Army Battalion of the Republic Forces, rank of Major.”
“You are a soldier of the New Asia Republic. Why did you come to Jasu, what is your purpose, and what mission are you executing?”
Qi Ying understood that the army troops had painstakingly arranged all of this solely to serve this single question. Until they cleared up this matter, it was impossible for the Jasu government to hand Lu Mengzheng back to the New Asia Republic.
“I came to…”
The muscles across Lu Mengzheng’s entire body tensed, his teeth clacking together with a dull sound; Qi Ying knew that a person of great willpower would suffer extraordinary agony during this process. A dull ache seemed to pierce his own palms as well; lowering his head, he realized his fingernails had unwittingly dug deep into his flesh.
“…find someone.”
This answer came as quite a surprise. Qi Ying saw the frozen heads of the people around him sway high and low, exchanging bewildered glances.
Lu Chengjun also straightened up, knitting his brows tightly: “Find who? I want his name.”
“Find…”
Lu Chengjun slowed his tone, coaxing him step-by-step: “Tell us, and we can help you find him together.”
Another prolonged silence stretched on, until the truth serum regained the upper hand once more.
Lu Mengzheng answered: “Find Qi Ying.”
?
Every gaze swung instantly toward him. Qi Ying pointed at himself with a face full of utter bewilderment: “Me?”
Colonel Lu was well-experienced after all, showing little surprise as his eyes remained locked firmly on Lu Mengzheng: “Which characters? Which ‘Qi’, which ‘Ying’?”
It might just be a homophone.
Lu Mengzheng answered: “The ‘Qi’ in Qi Ying, the ‘Ying’ in Qi Ying.”
“…Nonsense.” Lu Chengjun held his forehead in speechlessness, asking the soldier beside him, “What, does truth serum impair intelligence?”
The soldier clicked his boots together: “No, Sir.”
“I fucking know it doesn’t!” Lu Chengjun couldn’t wrap his head around where the recruitment office kept finding these recruits who couldn’t understand plain language. “I’m asking you what the hell is wrong with him then!”
Sweat trickled down the soldier’s forehead: “Reporting, Sir! While the drug is in effect, he cannot think actively. Clear and specific instructions must be given.”
“Then form words with the characters…” Lu Chengjun thought of a better way to command him. “Use those two characters to form words respectively—words other than ‘Qi Ying’.”
This time, Lu Mengzheng spoke slowly, to the point where every single word was heard with crystal clarity.
“The ‘Qi’ as in neat (zhengqi), the ‘Ying’ as in reflect (daoying).”
The moment those words left his mouth, the machine guns on all four sides adjusted their muzzles in unison, locking directly onto Qi Ying.
“…Th-th-this… Must be a shared name, right?” Qi Ying’s expression fractured instantly, his lips trembling slightly. “…I don’t even know him!”
Already sleep-deprived from the night before, his brain was a complete jumble, and now his head throbbed even harder. Yet intuition told Qi Ying that this couldn’t possibly be the truth.
Although he had once suffered amnesia and couldn’t verify Lu Mengzheng’s true identity, no one had come looking for him in two whole years. Now Lu Mengzheng claimed he had come for him, yet over these past few days in Storage Room 105, he had treated him entirely like an enemy, rarely offering a pleasant face. Not to mention, he couldn’t even recognize his voice—just how deep could his connection with Lu Mengzheng possibly be?
Therefore, this Alpha was 99.99% telling a lie.
But if Lu Mengzheng was lying, how on earth did he know his name?
Throughout the entire guard process, Qi Ying had paid special attention to protecting his personal information. Still, he couldn’t completely rule out the possibility that the second lieutenant or Zheng Yaqiao had mentioned it in front of him, or that he himself had accidentally blurted it out and forgotten.
Thinking about it that way made this man somewhat terrifying.
To be able to remain unaffected by truth serum and put on such a good show facing interrogation—not only relaxing the army’s guard against him, but also shifting the brunt of suspicion onto Qi Ying?
Facing the dark, terrifying gun muzzles, Qi Ying’s face turned deathly pale.
Fortunately, Lu Chengjun managed to keep his composure, raising a hand to signal the restless soldiers to stay calm.
“Lu Mengzheng, is this Qi Ying you speak of a Beta?”
Anxious enough to hurl curses, Qi Ying blurted out: “Holy shit! Lu Mengzheng! Don’t you dare talk nonsense, think carefully!”
Lu Mengzheng: “He…is… a Beta.”
Qi Ying: “…”
After a wave of dizziness, Qi Ying met Lu Chengjun’s calm, measured gaze. After all, finding a second Beta in Jasu named Qi Ying wouldn’t be easy; the odds of sharing the exact same name were miniscule.
Lu Chengjun studied him with a profound, unfathomable look for a good while before directing his gaze back to Lu Mengzheng: “Then tell us what you’re looking for Qi Ying for. What mission do you two have?”
Wait, what? What mission could I possibly have? Qi Ying thought. Setting aside the fact that he was useless at everything except being first in line to eat, even if he did have a mission, it would be impossible for him to be locked up here alongside Lu Mengzheng—that would be pure self-entrapment.
Suffice it to say, the prisoner’s plan was a resounding success; Lu Chengjun clearly harbored deep suspicions now. Qi Ying desperately wanted to offer a few words of defense for himself, but Lu Chengjun cut him off with a raise of his hand.
“I want to hear Major Lu say it himself.”
Qi Ying swallowed drily, hearing Lu Mengzheng speak once more.
“I want to find him… and take him back to New Asia.”
“Is that all?”
“That is all.”
Lu Chengjun shot another glance at Qi Ying.
“What is his identity in the Republic Forces? Does he have anything to do with the new missile you people are developing?”
Lu Mengzheng’s features remained dark and unreadable within the shadows: “No connection. He is not a member of the Republic Forces.”
“Then what is his relationship to you?”
“…”
Lu Mengzheng went silent.
A dead quiet fell over the surroundings. Qi Ying unconsciously bit his lip, his breathing coming unnaturally tight.
Lu Chengjun’s brow knit even tighter as he pressed again: “Answer me. What on earth is his relationship to you?”
“He and I… have no relationship.”
Lu Chengjun didn’t buy such an answer, suspecting his own instruction hadn’t been clear enough: “Comrades-in-arms?”
“No.”
“Relatives or friends?”
“No.”
Lu Chengjun fell silent for two seconds: “Lovers?”
Before Qi Ying could even curse, he heard Lu Mengzheng answer: “We are not in that kind of relationship.”
Lu Chengjun found it entirely mind-boggling: “He has no relationship to you, nor is he a member of the Republic Forces—then why search for him?”
“Personal reasons…” Lu Mengzheng paused, looking even more agonized than before. “He is… very important to me.”
The surrounding soldiers looked back and forth at one another, some displaying ambiguous, puzzled expressions on their faces, eyeing Qi Ying up and down as if inspecting the cover of a tabloid magazine printing scandal stories.
Qi Ying’s face flushed bright red in an instant, and he protested to the crowd: “Did you guys get a batch of fake drugs or something?! He is completely talking out of his ass! It’s a setup!”
Sitting there, Lu Chengjun tapped his fingers rhythmically against the tabletop, lost in thought.
Lu Mengzheng possessed extraordinary physical fitness; whether this dosage could fully control him was hard to say.
Judging solely from the information he provided, it was self-contradictory. Since there was no special relationship, why would he take such a immense risk to sneak into an enemy nation alone just to find a Beta?
As far as he knew, Lu Mengzheng commanded considerable prestige in the Republic Forces; his previous deployment to West Africa for relief efforts had yielded several beautiful victories where he won against overwhelming odds, marking him as a rising star in military politics. For such a person, once he incurred a record of being captured by an enemy nation, his political career would virtually be over—an act of complete self-destruction.
Furthermore, his high-ranking, powerful father would never agree to such a reckless move.
Therefore, Lu Mengzheng phrasing it this way seemed more like a ploy to confuse everyone and cover up the real purpose of his trip—such as the tactical missile launch plan.
Shifting his gaze back, the ordinary Beta before him was still hopping around in protest. Lu Chengjun let out a cold scoff, his patience finally wearing out. He stood up abruptly, walked over to the interrogation chair, and grabbed Lu Mengzheng by the hair, forcing his head up.
“Major Lu, your willpower is quite something. Even with such a heavy dose, you can still play us for fools.”
His scalp being yanked upward looked agonizingly painful, yet Lu Mengzheng’s gaze remained dull, completely unresponsive.
Lu Chengjun locked eyes with that pair of empty, heterochromatic pupils for a few seconds. Finally tiring of his act, he released his fingers and shoved his head brutally to the side, then turned his gaze back to Qi Ying, who glared back at him with wide eyes.
“First of all, what you’re doing is very inhumane! Second of all, I am innocent…”
Lu Chengjun had no patience to listen, waving his hand with sweeping authority: “I will investigate thoroughly. Until then, your access permissions are restricted strictly to the monitoring room!”
Meaning I won’t even get to look at the fake flowers and fake grass anymore. Qi Ying felt his soul leave his body.
Once Lu Chengjun and the soldiers marched out of the room, he grabbed the second lieutenant’s sleeve tightly and asked in a low voice: “Then what about Lu Mengzheng?”
The second lieutenant also appeared utterly shaken, dazed for two seconds before refocusing his gaze on Qi Ying’s face: “He’ll probably wake up in about half an hour.”
“Did you know all along that the suppressant was actually truth serum?”
“I warned you before. Your phone and communications are all being monitored by them, and every single word you say to Lu Mengzheng can be seen. I told you to stay away from him.”
Qi Ying said irritably, “I’m asking about the truth serum.”
The second lieutenant fell silent.
Qi Ying felt progressively worse: “So when I was attacked by an Alpha in the containment cell, your superiors could see everything, but had no intention of saving me?!”
After a long pause, the second lieutenant said sluggishly, “They felt everything was within a controllable range. What could I do? I can’t disobey military orders.”
Qi Ying let go.