The rear admiral in charge of the Pacific Fleet raised a hand. "Sir, about the Seventh Fleet's patrol schedule in the Western Pacific—"
"Patrol as usual. But shift the route two hundred nautical miles east."
"Two hundred nautical miles? We'd basically be circling our own doorstep."
The general took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Do you have a better suggestion?"
No one spoke.
Britain's MI6 convened an emergency interdepartmental meeting. One analyst used a term in his briefing: "single-entity strategic weapon." That term had never appeared in the history of Western intelligence.
Gaul's defense ministry revised its Global Threat Assessment Report overnight, adding a new entry at the very top.
The entry's name was merely the French translation of two Chinese characters, but everyone who saw the report knew what those characters were.
High God.
Those two characters were no longer just a nickname used by Huaxia's netizens.
They were becoming a proper term used around the world.
And the man that term referred to was currently sitting on Three Blue Birds' back, dozing with his eyes closed.
He had no idea—or rather, he did not care—that his name was being etched into the history of this era in a way that could never be undone.
Huaxia's standing also underwent a subtle yet profound change that day.
Previously, whenever Huaxia came up, the keywords that came to mind around the world were manufacturing, high-speed rail, and an infrastructure-building juggernaut.
Now there was one more.
One man.
With Chen Hao there, Huaxia was the pioneer of this new era. Unchallenged.
Three Blue Birds flew through the clouds in the darkness, heading toward Pengcheng. Chen Siyao draped a jacket over her brother, while Yang Wanqing had already fallen asleep against Three Blue Birds' soft feathers, still mumbling