Chapter Two: Peace Forever Rests Upon the Sword’s Edge

Central Command of the First Military District, Xuanlu, Conference Room.

Under the banner of the Red Dragon, a number of middle-aged men dressed in black military uniforms or immaculate suits sat around the long table, each holding a stack of documents, leafing through them with grave expressions. The highest rank among them was general, the lowest a colonel; those in suits belonged to the Discipline Inspection Committee.

A knock sounded at the door. All activity ceased, documents were set down, and every eye fixed upon the entrance. The door opened slowly, and a tall man in a black military uniform strode in with purposeful steps. A single blade and star gleamed on his shoulder—Major.

He stood at attention and saluted smartly. “Reporting in!”

It had been years since Qin Le had last donned his uniform; the sensation was exhilarating, his eyes bright with anticipation.

General Shentu, seated at the head of the table, returned the salute and said, "Major Qin Le, I still cannot approve your application. You must understand, you are the Republic’s most precious treasure, the very hope for the revival of Xuanlu. The nation will not permit you to undertake such risk, even if it means sacrificing countless soldiers."

As the first to ‘eat the crab’—to take the unprecedented leap—Xuanlu naturally became the one to block the world's guns. Every nation had its sights trained upon them. Yet, once there was a first, a second would surely follow. The question was whether the Republic would be strangled by blockade, or the surrounding nations would be swept away by revolution.

Qin Le’s miraculous transformation had breathed a glimmer of hope into this desperate situation.

A ‘gate’—a portal that could instantly lead to another place.

Beyond that ‘gate’ likely lay an entirely new world.

A new world! When this report first surfaced, the leadership thought the Academy of Sciences had drunk themselves senseless to dare submit something so outrageous. Had they no fear of dismissal?

But when the report was verified as true, the matter was immediately classified as top secret; only a handful were informed, each required to sign the strictest confidentiality agreement in history. Leaking meant life imprisonment or death, and even those merely in the know faced possible penalties. At the same time, Qin Le became the first living state secret in Xuanlu’s history, under the twenty-four-hour protection of National Security, at a level rivaling the nation's leaders.

Qin Le was not surprised by the general’s refusal; he wouldn’t have agreed himself. Yet he had come today to persuade these men.

“General, you’re aware, the position of the gate I open isn’t fixed, correct?”

Shentu nodded. “That’s clear. It’s in the report.”

The Special Experiments Group had tested this by sending radio transmitters through—first installing one, withdrawing, closing, and reopening the gate, hoping to reconnect. Each time, they failed to contact the previous radio. With a twenty-kilometer range, this meant the gate’s reappearance was offset by at least that much, possibly much more. Ten cycles, ten radios, none could contact another.

Assuming the other side was a new world, the gate’s reappearance could cover that entire world.

Qin Le continued, “The gate’s randomness could encompass the whole planet, at least over two hundred kilometers. With such vast dispersion, even sending an entire company with no logistical support would only result in total annihilation. And the gate is but two meters wide, three high. Each opening and maintenance drains my strength—far from enough to send a whole company. Even dispatching a commando team, if they can’t contact us or bring back intelligence, more men are useless.”

Both opening and holding the gate exhausted Qin Le, not merely physically but mentally; recovery took one or two months. The notion of using mass deployments to establish radios and gamble on probability was impossible. Even if by some miracle, soldiers contacted the nation, resupply would be nearly unattainable.

If only radios were left behind, they’d soon be destroyed by local fauna. Leaving men meant a primitive struggle for survival with abysmal odds.

“What we need are intelligence, resources, or unique technologies from the new world. That’s why I’m the most suitable to lead. I can open the gate at any time, transmit gathered intelligence, and if danger arises, retreat instantly.”

With that, all the military leaders fell silent; his logic was not without merit. The scheme of sacrificing soldiers to establish radios on chance was indeed preposterous, especially since current batteries would keep a radio running no more than half a month.

Yet sending Qin Le, the gate holder, was still too great a risk.

“Rejected. Major Qin Le, you must understand your importance.” Shentu’s gaze was sharp, his martial aura unmistakable. “You are the most crucial person in Xuanlu, bar none. Not even I could compare to you.”

Faced with a general who had risen through the fires of war, most would have quailed. But Qin Le, one who had crawled from heaps of corpses, was unmoved.

“May I ask, sir, do you know how many soldiers’ lives it would cost to obtain any intelligence?” Qin Le asked.

“I do not. But the nation will not risk you—not now. Return to your preparations.”

“Yes, sir.” Without hesitation, Qin Le turned and left the conference room.

Silence.

All present pondered: Would sacrificing soldiers for fleeting communication be effective? It was a troubling question.

“Truly a headache. Are we really to wager lives on odds? I don’t believe that’s right—the Republic mustn’t repeat the Empire’s mistakes.”

“But we can’t risk Major Qin Le—he’s the hope for Xuanlu’s revival.”

“Yet we can’t just gamble soldiers’ lives for a slim chance. And as captain of the first commando unit, Qin Le’s survived more wars than most could survive in hundreds of lifetimes. I see little problem with him leading an exploration.”

“Exploration isn’t war. In an untamed environment, venomous creatures and unknown threats are enough to kill at once.”

“So what then—send skinny biologists? Even outside war, elite commandos are more capable than anyone else. Remember, in the Southern Continent War, it was beheading strikes by commandos that let Xuanlu triumph in the jungle. They’re experienced in such terrain.”

Shentu cleared his throat, and the heated debate ceased. All attention turned to him.

“Submit the application to the Supreme Leader. Decisions about Major Qin Le are above our pay grade.”

……

……

Night fell. Led by a soldier, Qin Le arrived at the command center within the military base.

Inside, the lighting was dim. Shentu stood beside a round table, upon which lay a vast world map bristling with flags of various colors and emblems.

Qin Le approached and saluted. “Reporting.”

Shentu set aside the Red Dragon banner and gestured to the desk phone at his right. “Your call.”

“Yes, sir.” Qin Le picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Qin Le, how have you been lately?"

The voice was aged yet robust.

Qin Le drew a breath and spoke directly: “Teacher, I wish to lead an expedition into the new world.”

A pause. Then, somewhat reproachfully: “You’re as blunt as ever—don’t even know how to exchange pleasantries. Ah, never mind. I’ll be direct. I can approve your request, but you must give me a convincing reason.”

“Intelligence gathering near the gate has reached its limit. I believe it's time for a deeper exploration. I can ensure steady resupply and reinforcements during the mission. In emergencies, I can swiftly bring in a company’s worth of troops.”

“Not a bad argument. But what do you think—about the gate, about the new world?”

“I believe the new world is Xuanlu’s chance for survival. We could gain new resources, new technologies…”

“Not what you believe. I want to know your true thoughts—why return to the army? Weren't you going to enjoy an ordinary life? Don’t speak of the gate’s uniqueness; even possessing it, you needn’t come back.”

The voice grew stern, brooking no contradiction.

“I…” Qin Le fell silent for a dozen seconds. Then, deeply, he said, “The Republic is a good nation. Life for the people may not be much better, but everyone can laugh out loud. No one is executed for trivialities any longer.”

“I love today’s Xuanlu. I love this peace, this laughter. That’s why I want to seek, in the new world, a way to flatten the old one, to see the Red Dragon banner raised in every human city.” Qin Le’s words sounded like those of an extreme imperialist, a radical.

His past had taught him not to trust in tranquil times—peace was always won through struggle. To have true peace, all enemies must be slain. Only then is safety assured.

Peace is always found at the edge of the sword.

Their generation’s duty was to kill, so that future generations could hope for peace and prosperity.

“You’re as radical as ever. Remember, it’s not about flattening the world, but liberating it. Overthrow those wicked, backward imperialist and capitalist regimes—free the broadest masses. Let the people eat their fill, wear warm clothes, and laugh aloud.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do what you must, Comrade Qin Le. Let me say for the hundred and sixty-second time: you are not alone. The Republic stands with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

The call ended. Qin Le set down the receiver.

After a long silence, Shentu spoke: “Major Qin Le, your exploration mission will begin in a month. Prepare yourself.”

“Yes, sir.” Qin Le nodded, then glanced at the world map in the room’s center.

The red flags were surrounded on all sides by other banners; naval flags on the southern seas faced off with the Red Dragon.

“General, is Nanling County going to war?”

Though Qin Le had earned first-class commendations in the Great War—honors only the dead typically received—at heart he was still just a soldier. Hand him a mission, even an assassination, and he’d see it done, but ask him to decipher the world stage, and it was a stretch.

Shentu shook his head. “Not so soon. For at least a decade, they can’t start a war. No country can do so without public support. For now, it’s posturing—intimidation. They’re trying to convince themselves their systems remain supreme. Paper tigers, nothing more.”

Not so soon—so war would come, but not yet.

Qin Le asked, “Can we win?”

“If we’re willing to sacrifice a generation, we won’t lose.” Shentu’s tone was calm, his answer oblique.

Qin Le asked no more, saluted, and departed.

His words had rung bold, as though Xuanlu could sweep the world. In truth, they were the ones under threat of being swept away.

The road of the republic was unimaginably hard—so hard it suffocated. It was too idealistic, like a mythic paradise, a land of song and legend, easily dismissed with laughter.

Like a child, eyes pure and naive, speaking dreams that drew amusement.

Yet a miracle had occurred. Xuanlu was truly walking that impossible, laughable path. And on that road, from faltering beginnings to cautious steps, Xuanlu had learned to stand, then stride forward. That was what made others afraid. What they scorned, what they scoffed at as impossible, was being turned, step by step, into reality.