Chapter 219

Chapter 219: You Raised Me, You Hatched Me—Everything I Know, I Learned from You

Jiang Tea Tea didn’t react. “My excellence has nothing to do with you. Stop trying to steal credit.”

Lang Yin Feng bared his teeth. “Without me, you wouldn’t exist. I made you.”

Jiang Tea Tea tossed the wet wipe onto the table. “Who exactly did you make? Me? Or the other dozen-plus?”

“No,” she said flatly. “We weren’t made by you.”

“The bloodline you truly cared about,” she continued, eyes cold, “already returned to your body.”

“We are ourselves. Independent individuals. We have nothing to do with you.”

Lang Yin Feng’s deepest secret had been stripped clean.

To survive, he had replaced every organ again and again. He had replaced blood again and again.

And he used his own direct-line blood relatives for it.

He didn’t just experiment on strangers.

He killed his own family.

Jiang Tea Tea watched him carefully, then asked lightly, “Am I wrong?”

“I’m not,” she said. “You told the world you never married. You had no children. You devoted everything to research and the nation.”

“But privately?” She smiled thinly. “You had children. Sons. Daughters. Grandsons. Granddaughters.”

“Your first full-body organ replacement,” she said, her voice turning sharp, “was taken from your son.”

“Your first blood replacement was also from your son.”

“And when your son refused,” Jiang Tea Tea continued, unblinking, “you tied him to the operating table. You performed the surgery yourself.”

“You removed every organ while he was conscious.”

“He begged you,” she said steadily. “He screamed and begged you to give him artificial organs. You refused. You made him die on that table with his mind fully awake.”

Lang Yin Feng stared at her for a long time. Then something inside him collapsed.

He spat blood and screamed, “Yes! You’re right! You’re all right!”

“You have nothing to do with me,” he ranted, spittle and rage foaming at the corners of his mouth. “My biological children—my direct-line relatives for three generations—are all dead. All killed by me.”

“I discovered longevity,” he insisted, eyes wild. “Longevity has side effects. Longevity demands a price—blood.”

“I didn’t want to die,” he screamed. “So they had to die!”

“My son, my daughter, my grandsons, my granddaughters, my brother, my sister—”

“And their children,” he hissed, “I gave them endless money. Endless houses. They enjoyed it, didn’t they?”

“Then they should die for me. That’s what they deserved!”

Jiang Tea Tea’s mouth curved with bitter contempt. “Lang Bai Yue. That’s not longevity.”

“Swapping organs. Swapping blood. Stealing ability. Stealing mental power.” Her eyes were ice-cold. “That isn’t immortality. It’s parasitism.”

“In the M31 Star System,” she continued, “the higher the ability level, the longer the lifespan—if your mind sea is properly soothed and stabilized. Some can live three hundred years. Five hundred.”

“The Insect Clan lives even longer.”

She leaned forward. “Your ability level wasn’t low. You studied ability research. You could’ve lived three to five hundred years naturally.”

“But your greed,” Jiang Tea Tea said quietly, “made you stack extra centuries on top of that with your descendants’ lives.”

“Why did you cultivate me? Why did you cultivate the other dozen-plus children?”

“Because no matter how many new organs you replaced, no matter how many times you changed blood, your body kept decaying.”

“It decayed until you lost the ability to reproduce,” she said. “You slaughtered three generations of your direct-line relatives. Then you started testing other people’s blood and organs.”

“We didn’t match,” she finished. “So you let us live.”

Lang Yin Feng lunged forward against the shackles, face contorting. “You understand nothing! I gave them life. That means I have the right to take it back!”

“My beloved descendants’ organs are inside me,” he snarled. “Their blood is inside me. That’s their honor!”

He raved about his grand goals, about leading the White Wolf Clan to even greater heights—

Jiang Tea Tea cut him off by standing. “Keep fantasizing.”

“I’m busy,” she said crisply. “But don’t worry. The mining planets you hid, the seed planets, your network of foreign allies, and your list of researchers…”

“I’m handing all of it to Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming.”

Lang Yin Feng’s face twisted into pure horror. “No—no! Tea Tea, you can’t do that—”

Jiang Tea Tea didn’t answer. She lifted her hand and flicked it downward.

An invisible strike cracked across Lang Yin Feng’s mouth.

His remaining teeth shattered. Blood poured out as he gagged and coughed.

Jiang Tea Tea paused at the door, then decided to twist the knife one final time.

She tapped her lightbrain and projected a screen.

Chong Ming’s image appeared.

Lang Yin Feng froze like he’d been turned to stone.

Even the blood seemed to pause for a heartbeat.

Jiang Tea Tea tapped the table lightly, drawing Lang Yin Feng’s gaze. “Why can’t I do that? I’ve been doing it the whole time.”

“From the moment I walked in,” she said calmly, “Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming has been watching our conversation.”

“You told me to beg him to spare you, right?” Jiang Tea Tea tilted her head. “Great. Here’s your chance.”

“You two talk face to face,” she said sweetly. “Beg him. Ask him if he’ll spare you for the sake of longevity.”

Then she turned and walked out, clean and decisive.

On the screen, Chong Ming looked at Lang Yin Feng once—cold, silent.

He said nothing.

He cut the projection.

Lang Yin Feng’s panic burst like a dam breaking. “Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming! Spare me! Spare me!”

“I have a way to let you live a thousand years! Ten thousand!”

“You’re the strongest beastfolk in Zhen Lin Empire—maybe the entire star system! If you invest in me, if you make things easy for me, I’ll develop longevity without side effects!”

“Everyone wants longevity,” he screamed. “You don’t want it?”

“Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming! Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming—”

His voice bounced off white walls.

No one answered.

Then his voice broke into another, more desperate cry. “Jiang Tea Tea! Jiang Tea Tea! I’m your dad! I’m your dad! Come back—come back!”

Only silence replied.

Outside, Ministry of Justice personnel swarmed Jiang Tea Tea like excited bees.

One man stepped forward, grinning too brightly. “Classmate Jiang Tea Tea, hello. I’m Jin Huan, the person in charge of the Lang Yin Feng case.”

“It’s a pleasure,” he said quickly. “Can we exchange contacts? It’ll make coordination easier if we need your help later.”

Jiang Tea Tea swept her eyes over the others.

Every single one of them was smiling like a blooming flower—so bright it looked almost like a con.

Jin Huan hurried to clarify. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not asking you for treatment or anything. I have a few other cases that may require your assistance.”

“And you know,” he added, “your contact information isn’t something I can just get. Meeting you today is an honor—an honor for our entire Ministry of Justice.”

Jiang Tea Tea activated her lightbrain as she answered, voice casual. “I’m busy with classes. If you need my help, it’s best to contact Chong Ming.”

“Or schedule with me ten days to half a month in advance.”

Jin Huan’s face lit up. He scanned her contact and nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes. Understood. Thank you. Thank you.”

Jiang Tea Tea waved it off. “Don’t mention it.”

Then she said, businesslike, “Find a room. I’ll tell you everything I saw in Lang Yin Feng’s memory.”

Jin Huan nearly bounced. “Yes. This way, please.”

He led her into a comfortable room, where professional staff were already waiting with recording and documentation equipment.

Outside, those who weren’t qualified to enter stood staring at the closed door, marveling.

“I thought national-level hypnosis specialists were incredible,” someone murmured. “Turns out the real monster is out in the wild.”

“We brought in ten top hypnosis specialists,” someone else said, voice awed. “We nearly wanted to recruit from outside the star system. None of them could pry his mouth open.”

“And he called the person who cracked him himself,” a third snorted. “That’s poetic.”

“Isn’t that like picking up a rock just to drop it on your own foot?”

“No,” another corrected. “That’s karma. He deserved it.”

“She’s eighteen,” someone whispered, half in disbelief. “Eighteen. I can’t even imagine how terrifying she’ll be at twenty-eight. Thirty-eight. Fifty-eight.”

“Easy,” another said. “She’ll be Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming 2.0.”

They were shushed back to work.

Inside, Jiang Tea Tea spent two hours recounting everything she had taken from Lang Yin Feng’s memory, detail by detail. Everything was recorded—video, audio, transcripts—ensuring Lang Yin Feng would be stripped clean, with nowhere left to hide.

The moment Jiang Tea Tea left the Ministry of Justice and boarded her ship, Jin Huan began reporting upward, requesting that Jiang Tea Tea assist with other cases.

He didn’t message her directly to schedule. Etiquette mattered. Chong Ming valued Jiang Tea Tea too highly, and proper procedure demanded her “honor” be acknowledged through him.

Elsewhere, Zhong Li He had checked into his hotel.

He’d barely undone two buttons and rolled up his sleeves to start working with Kong Que when he received a message from Chong Ming.

He cursed immediately. “Kong Que, tell me Chong Ming isn’t sick in the head.”

Kong Que glanced at the lightbrain screen. Chong Ming’s message read:

“I only learned today that my cub’s mom—my future commander-in-chief—has a mutated illusion-type hypnosis.”

Then two more messages followed.

“My future commander-in-chief, Jiang Tea Tea, uncovered every secret and defense line behind the human experiments and the embryo screening facility I was investigating.”

“This is what she pulled from the criminal managing director’s memory: the addresses of illegal labs in Da Xi Nation, the identities of the people in charge, and a list of Da Xi Nation personnel suspected of organ and ability transplants and human trafficking.”

Kong Que opened the file.

It was long—over a hundred names.

He looked up. “Chief Executive, Commander-in-Chief Chong Ming isn’t sick. He’s helping us.”

“Our nation,” Kong Que said quietly, “has more parasites than we thought.”

Zhong Li He leaned in, his head bumping Kong Que’s as they both stared at the list.

He whistled. “Damn. The more I see Jiang Tea Tea’s ability, the more I like her.”

Then, as if his brain couldn’t resist swerving into nonsense, he added, “Kong Que, is it really true humans don’t like flashy feathers? Should I dye mine gold? All gold?”

Kong Que paused. “Chief Executive’s feathers are already beautiful. There’s no need.”

Then, evenly, “If you can’t win against Chong Ming’s taunts next time, you can tell him this: Miss Jiang Tea Tea doesn’t like me, and she doesn’t like you either. So stop showing off.”

Zhong Li He blinked.

Then he reached out and ruffled Kong Que’s hair into a mess, turning it into a bird’s nest. “Kong Que. Sometimes your mouth is vicious.”

He grinned. “Where did you go study behind my back?”

Kong Que lifted his eyes, gaze focused and sincere. “I was picked up by you. Hatched by you.”

“Everything I have,” he said softly, “I learned from you.”

Zhong Li He’s smile faltered. He looked away, his hand sliding from Kong Que’s hair to his forehead, pressing his head down so he couldn’t keep looking.

“All right,” Zhong Li He muttered. “Stop flattering.”

“Set up a few remote meetings,” he ordered quickly. “Based on Chong Ming’s list, we’re forming three teams to investigate.”

Kong Que lowered his eyes. “Yes, Chief Executive.”

Zhong Li He stood. “I’ll forward you a copy of the list. Arrange the meetings. I’m going to wash my face.”

Kong Que watched his back and answered quietly, “Yes, Chief Executive.”

At the same time, Jiang Tea Tea and her eight-person team received equipment for their next mission.

Compressed-air guns. Firearms. Cold blades.

Their assigned leader watched them check everything—pack, secure, dress—then briefed them with a grim expression.

“Directly below our ship,” he said, “is an underground laboratory roughly five thousand square meters.”

“Most of the equipment inside is destroyed. Most hazardous substances were consumed or dispersed.”

He looked at them one by one. “But in the last three months, within a hundred kilometers of the lab, there has been mass animal death. The corpses show the same pattern: throats torn open, blood drained, flesh eaten clean.”

“We suspect there’s a hidden compartment our scans didn’t detect,” he continued. “Something survived inside—new mutant humans. They eat raw flesh and drink blood.”

He exhaled. “The mission’s danger rating isn’t extremely high. The eight of you will go down, locate the mutants, and capture them.”