Come to think of it, it really had been dangerous as hell back then.
Sending the transmission, receiving it, decrypting it, then making the right judgment and acting decisively—if any one of those links had gone wrong, the situation would never have turned out like this.
The most likely outcome would have been the Forward completely exploding, with Shi Tie Zhu alone escaping with his life, falling from outer space onto Mars's surface, then becoming trapped in the monsters' scorched-earth campaign. On the vast Martian land, he would have stared blankly in every direction, no longer able to stop any of the enemy's plans.
Ling Xingjian asked with great interest, "Speaking of which, it's strange that you could monitor such an ancient frequency. And that frequency was exclusive to the Secret Affairs Bureau. How did you know about it?"
"I'm not telling." Shi Tie Zhu had no intention of completely following the woman's train of thought. If he did not hold the initiative, their relationship would not develop in the direction he wanted.
Besides, maintaining an air of mystery was very important, so he answered, "I won't lie to you, but you wouldn't believe me even if I told you, so I might as well not."
"Leaving things half-said is pretty low," Ling Xingjian said. Her Secret Agent instincts flared up again, and her curiosity was immediately hooked. "Could it be that you, Great Immortal, can divine the future?"
Shi Tie Zhu fell silent for a moment, as though considering whether to say it. He strung Ling Xingjian along until she was scratching at a hundred places in her heart, then finally answered, "Among the memories of my past lives that awakened, there are not only immortal cultivation divine arts, but many other things too—for example, a secret frequency. I