Chapter 59: 3.16Stellar Sentinels and Guides

Over there, Tan Hao and Xiang Qilin urgently convened a meeting to discuss how to handle the recently discovered materials and quickly began making preparations. Meanwhile, Xiang Qimiao, who couldn’t reach Tan Hao for the time being, spent a sorrowful night.

Xiang Qimiao: “No goodnight kiss from Hao-ge, feeling unhappy.”

However, the next day, Xiang Qimiao was promptly called in for an urgent new assignment. Confused, he looked at his team leader: “Team Leader Liu, why the sudden rush?” After all, Xiang Qimiao had already been in the process of completing his work transfer and was set to return to his original position in a couple of days. Logically, there shouldn’t have been such a hurry to recall him.

The middle-aged Team Leader Liu patted Xiang Qimiao on the shoulder. “Xiao Xiang, this time it’s from the top—the military has an urgent mission. The demand is pressing, and the selection criteria are extremely strict. Many meet the standards, but due to the urgency, there’s no time for thorough background checks on other candidates. However, your background is absolutely clean, so we rushed to bring you in. Sorry for the trouble, Xiao Xiang.”

Hearing this, Xiang Qimiao nodded understandingly. “Team Leader Liu, you’re too kind. Since I’ve joined this organization, it’s only natural for me to contribute. Besides, I was already scheduled to return to work in a couple of days—one or two days earlier isn’t a big deal.”

Knowing the military was in urgent need of personnel, Xiang Qimiao exchanged only a few pleasantries with Team Leader Liu before quickly packing up and heading out. Recalling Tan Hao’s words before leaving yesterday, Xiang Qimiao began to form some vague ideas in his mind, growing increasingly cautious about the mission.

If even Tan Hao, a general, had rushed off with a grave expression, this matter was clearly no small issue. No wonder the recruitment had such stringent requirements—not just in terms of qualifications but also background checks. They must be guarding against potential leaks. No wonder they had chosen him.

There were plenty of suitable candidates in the research institute in terms of background and capability, but this matter seemed to involve the Tan and Xiang families. As a member of the Xiang family, Xiang Qimiao was undoubtedly the most fitting choice. After all, the Xiang family was already implicated, and as the youngest son of the family head, he certainly wouldn’t undermine his own clan.

Led into the conference room, Xiang Qimiao was unsurprised to see a somewhat weary-looking Tan Hao and Xiang Qilin. By then, he had already pieced together most of the situation.

Given the formal setting, Tan Hao and Xiang Qilin couldn’t act too familiarly. Tan Hao simply nodded at Xiang Qimiao in acknowledgment, while Xiang Qilin offered a faint smile. After returning the gesture, Xiang Qimiao was guided to his seat, where he sat quietly and listened attentively to the briefing.

As soon as he settled in, someone handed him a stack of documents. Xiang Qimiao couldn’t help but feel curious—what could have caused such a commotion? Judging by Tan Hao’s exhausted state, he must have been working nonstop since their parting yesterday. Clearly, this was no minor incident.

So, like the other newcomers who were equally clueless about the situation—and equally puzzled as to why Xiang Qimiao had been brought in—he began reading the files.

Ahem. Xiang Qimiao was indeed outstanding, whether in terms of family background or professional capability. However, he was typically assigned to logistical or technical support roles. His presence in an operational mission seemed somewhat out of place. Yet, after reviewing the contents provided by Tan Hao, everyone in the room grew furious.

Even Xiang Qimiao, who had anticipated the gravity of the situation, was shocked to discover that this case involved human experimentation.

Human testing wasn’t inherently unusual—after all, new drugs, for instance, required trials to assess side effects. Such practices were officially sanctioned. However, the black-market research facility described in the documents was conducting blatantly illegal experiments.

Subjects, lured or coerced under false pretenses, were treated as disposable tools—dismantled and reassembled at will, subjected to excruciating and inhumane procedures. Lives were lost, layer upon layer of blood staining the facility’s history.

One attendee slammed his fist on the table. “This is outrageous!” Chaos erupted as others joined in, condemning the black lab.

Xiang Qimiao’s expression darkened. As a principled researcher, he had no tolerance for those who justified atrocities under the guise of “for the greater good” or “for humanity’s sake.” Sacrifices in the name of science were one thing—if voluntary. But exploiting lives for personal gain? That was something he could neither comprehend nor ever accept.

Tan Hao calmly surveyed the room. Though disturbed himself, as a leader, he had to remain composed. If even he faltered, what hope was there for the rest?

Fortunately, his steady demeanor had a calming effect. Under his authoritative gaze, order was restored, and the team began organizing under his direction.

Preparations were swiftly made, and soon, they boarded a starship, heading toward the black lab’s location.

Tan Hao approached Xiang Qimiao and spoke quietly. “This mission requires a researcher’s assistance. Given that it’s tied to the incident that nearly cost you your life, participant backgrounds are crucial to prevent infiltration. That’s why you were chosen.”

Xiang Qimiao nodded in understanding, then asked curiously, “What about Miss Han from our institute? Didn’t she recommend her little friend this time?”

Everyone in the research institute knew that Han Siwei, the director’s granddaughter, had a close companion—a guide named Yuan Tianruo. She loved recommending him for every desirable assignment. As a result, despite Yuan Tianruo’s mediocre skills (ranking near the bottom in the institute), he lived quite comfortably.

However, most colleagues disliked Yuan Tianruo. They found him pretentious—excessively ingratiating toward those of higher status but dismissive toward “lesser” individuals.

Though Yuan Tianruo masked it well, the sharp-eyed researchers saw through him. Some even muttered behind his back: “Who does he think he is? Just some nobody from a backwater planet. What gives him the right to act so high and mighty?”

Outwardly, everyone maintained civility, but privately, few wanted anything to do with this two-faced social climber. Still, out of respect for Miss Han—who was well-liked—they turned a blind eye. After all, Yuan Tianruo hadn’t actually done anything egregious.

A collaboration with the military was a coveted opportunity. Surely Miss Han would have recommended her friend? Yet Xiang Qimiao had heard nothing about it.

Tan Hao shrugged. “Yuan Tianruo, right? He was recommended, but we needed someone immediately. Unfortunately, he’s on leave—no one knows where he is or when he’ll return. So he was cut.”

Time was of the essence. The sooner they dismantled the black lab, the fewer would suffer. Tan Hao and Xiang Qilin had been working tirelessly since yesterday—their exhaustion was evident. They couldn’t afford to wait for Yuan Tianruo.

Moreover, in terms of both skill and background, Xiang Qimiao far outshone Yuan Tianruo.

Had the institute not been swamped—with top researchers tied up—Yuan Tianruo’s file wouldn’t have even reached Tan Hao’s desk for consideration alongside Xiang Qimiao’s. (And even then, his absence sealed his rejection.) Frankly, Yuan Tianruo’s abilities fell short of the mission’s requirements.

Truth be told, Tan Hao was relieved Xiang Qimiao had recovered enough to work. Given his high standards, he’d have been loath to settle for Yuan Tianruo.

Xiang Qimiao sighed. “Miss Han is genuinely kind—just not the best judge of character. The old director, having lost his son and daughter-in-law young, dotes on her. No wonder she’s a bit naive.” It wasn’t a bad trait—just easily exploited.

Tan Hao remained noncommittal. “Han Xinwan isn’t a child anymore.” At her age, she ought to face the consequences of her choices. Not everyone would coddle her like her grandfather did.

Xiang Qimiao sighed again. He held the old director in high regard, but Yuan Tianruo’s resentment (for “stealing his spotlight”) had soured even Han Xinwan toward him. Attempts to advise her were rebuffed, leaving the old director caught in the middle.