“Prepare the chip removal surgery immediately! Move!”
He barked the order and violently tore the lie detector off Xu Lian without a word of hesitation, hoisting her in his arms and walking off.
He ran extremely fast, even faster than when Xu Lian had tried to threaten him with the documents earlier.
He almost wanted to flash away instantly, forgetting to ease his grip, nearly choking Xu Lian.
He practically crashed through the door, placing her on the operating table, his tone urgent: “The anesthetic might not take full effect immediately. Hold on.”
For the rare first time, Xu Lian saw genuine anxiety on his face.
Within a minute, sweat had broken out across his forehead, and his face had drained of color.
Xu Lian still didn’t fully understand the situation. She tried to get off the table, but he pressed her down immediately, controlling his voice as best he could:
“Cooperate properly, don’t panic. I’ll take you into the cockpit soon. You can do whatever you want, alright?”
Xu Lian was still dazed. She had thought Song Jinze intended to mess with her, but the current situation didn’t seem appropriate for causing a fuss. And the conditions he offered were not bad: “O-okay, fine.”
Song Jinze was panting heavily, arranging for medical personnel to be in position and ready for surgery.
He quickly told Xu Lian: “Wait here a moment. I’ll be right back.”
Xu Lian: “Mm-hmm.”
Song Jinze left and returned shortly, followed by a subordinate carrying a death-row prisoner in prison garb, holding the sheepskin scroll in his arms.
Xu Lian had a bad feeling.
Song Jinze strode over, slashed her finger with a knife, then leaned close to her ear in a low voice: “If the surgery fails, drip your blood onto the sheepskin scroll before the countdown ends, and recite this person’s name. His name is Hu Jing. Understand?”
Xu Lian stared at him in shock: “Y-you…”
Of course, she understood what this meant.
If the surgery failed, her body would die, but Song Jinze planned to sacrifice another to preserve her soul with the scroll.
Xu Lian murmured: “You… are really dark.”
Song Jinze: “You have no right to judge me.”
Xu Lian: “…”
Fine. Since neither of them were exactly virtuous, she wouldn’t pretend anymore.
The surgery began.
Remembering his earlier promise, Xu Lian asked distractedly: “So… can I try piloting your starship afterward?”
The nurse almost cursed silently, her hand trembling, but she maintained professionalism, ignoring the conversation between Xu Lian and the Supreme Commander.
Under normal circumstances, Song Jinze would have thrown her out immediately for saying that. But now, surprisingly, he responded gently: “Yes. You may. Anything you want.”
Nurse: “!!!”
All medical personnel: “!!!”
Subordinate standing nearby: “?!”
Xu Lian: Yay.
She followed instructions, lying face down on the table with her neck fully exposed.
The medical box opened, revealing cold instruments. The medical staff calmly informed her: “Local anesthesia. There may be a brief stinging sensation.”
Song Jinze held her hand: “Don’t be afraid. It will sting a little, but it will pass. Hold on, don’t faint, understand?”
Xu Lian nodded happily: “Mm-hmm.”
He knelt on one knee beside her, voice soft: “Look at me. Don’t think about what’s behind you.”
Xu Lian obediently stared at him.
She heard the metallic clicks at the back of her head, the doctor’s breathing.
Time was urgent, and it did sting slightly. She furrowed her brows in pain.
Song Jinze slowly rubbed her hand with his palm, stabilizing her rhythm: “Almost done. Keep holding on.”
Xu Lian wanted to say she wasn’t afraid, but for that brief moment, she truly felt touched.
For someone as insignificant as herself to be comforted and accompanied in such a way—by the enemy she hated the most—was astonishing.
She realized she might be starved for affection or too easily drawn into illusions of happiness, lost briefly in Song Jinze’s concerned and focused gaze.
She couldn’t help but wonder: is this how normal people feel when undergoing surgery or being sick?
She didn’t feel the pain as much anymore.
Song Jinze, still making conversation, asked: “Why do you want to pilot my starship?”
Xu Lian, distracted, thought for a moment: “Because… it looks fun. I’ve never piloted one before.”
Song Jinze wanted to smile, but couldn’t; instead he scolded gently: “You’ve never piloted and still dare to get on? You have guts.”
Xu Lian raised her eyebrows: “Haven’t you piloted before? You can watch over me.”
Unexpectedly gentle, Song Jinze said: “Alright. I’ll find someone to be your support position. You can see if you can start it.”
Xu Lian, ever reckless, blurted: “Can’t you be my support position instead?”
Song Jinze: “…”
The nurse handing him the scalpel: “!!!”
The doctor: “.”
Subordinate: “…?”
Song Jinze actually wanted to curse.
How dare she ask him to be her support?
Her background? Her influence?
He had never considered being a support position. He was always the control position; although he couldn’t share piloting with anyone, he would never lower himself to be someone else’s support.
Giving up control, letting someone invade his consciousness—he, Song Jinze, would never agree to that.
Xu Lian tugged his sleeve: “Please, promise me.”
Song Jinze looked at her coolly: “…Why are you acting so cute?”
Xu Lian: “?”
Before she could reply, a sharp pain shot through the back of her neck.
She instinctively squeezed his hand.
Song Jinze paused, frowned at her briefly, then looked away, voice muffled: “We’ll talk about that once we get to the cockpit.”
Xu Lian blinked, then her eyes lit up.
So… that counted as a yes?
The subordinate nearby nearly dropped his jaw, heart racing wildly, unable to comprehend.
Oh my god… the Supreme Commander, usually so domineering, actually agreed to such an absurd request!?
No way… must be possessed or something!
Even the subordinate who was usually an iron-blooded control position couldn’t tolerate being a support, yet the Supreme Commander had agreed!?
Who was this woman!?
Relative? Sister? Or what?
S-class control positions were extremely rare—only a few thousand existed across the Federation. These people were proud, and rarely even touched the support pilot seat.
Damn… unbelievable…
Xu Lian, completely unaware of all eyes on her, happily finished the surgery.
No accidents occurred. Song Jinze’s team was skilled, efficient, and fast; the crisis was successfully averted.
Song Jinze exhaled, finally releasing the tension he had been holding.
Xu Lian felt weak and soft in the body, but she didn’t want to rest. She looked at him eagerly: “Carry me to the cockpit, Commander Song. Let’s start now.”
With the surgery over, Song Jinze’s attitude returned to being strict: “You’re getting addicted to bossing me around, aren’t you?”
At that, everyone around breathed a sigh of relief: good, the Supreme Commander was back to normal.
But the next second, Song Jinze, face cold, bent down and carefully lifted her:
“Let this be the last time.”
Everyone: “???”