The Strongest Brain in the Interstellar

Jiang Hui’s first reaction wasn’t to dodge; instead, she found himself thinking… Even when this man bends down, his posture remains perfectly straight.

Xierman, however, couldn’t quite understand how, despite his quick reflex to dodge, the other man’s hand still ended up on his head. Didn’t this guy know that a man’s head isn’t something you can just pat? Not even his own father got to do that.

The man seemed to notice Xierman’s restless movements and glanced at him, the corner of his mouth curling into a smirk that was almost playful. “A child of the old Xierman family… No wonder.”

Xierman wasn’t sure if the man was referring to his grandfather or his father. But as far as he remembered, only his grandfather’s friends would call him that way.

This Lieutenant General didn’t seem old enough to be from his grandfather’s generation, though.

Lieutenant General Mace gave a soft sigh, and then… he patted Xierman’s head once more.

Xierman: … He had reason to suspect the other man did it on purpose.

Then this elder turned to the other person: “And this must be Student Jiang.”

Jiang Hui felt his gaze as he sized her up briefly. But there was no hostility in his look—just a straightforward observation. Although it made her a bit uneasy, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

In fact, compared to Xierman, Lieutenant General Mace had a stronger impression of Jiang Hui. It wasn’t just because she had saved Brad (Instructor Mace), but also because of her mother, Jiang Yilin.

Jiang Yilin might not remember him, but Mays certainly remembered her. Back then, he had wanted to recruit her into the Third Corps and mentor her. Unfortunately, for various reasons, she ended up in the Eighth Corps instead.

The next time he heard about her was in the hero memorial news, announcing her death. Both she and her husband perished in that war.

Years ago, the Third Corps had quietly hoped to bring that “flower of the military” into its ranks. But due to an unrelated faction conflict, she was transferred elsewhere, eventually fading away on the battlefield. Mace regretted it deeply.

Since his arrival, he had reviewed the evidence and information related to this incident, including the records of the two students who had saved his youngest son.

He knew Xierman’s family well, as he had grown up with Xierman’s father. Though their paths diverged due to differing career choices, and they hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years, Mace did know that Old Xierman had five children and doted on his youngest, who was still in school.

He hadn’t expected Xierman’s precious son to have a personality just like his father. That old friend had hidden his true nature so well over the years that everyone assumed he was a shrewd businessman, naturally inclined to strategize and manipulate. But this youngest son had inherited his father’s genuine, straightforward nature—an exact replica. In truth, if Xierman’s father hadn’t had to take on the family business, he’d probably have been just as uninhibited.

Some things simply are the way they are, no matter how circumstances change.

Lieutenant General Mace wasn’t bothered by the slip-ups Xierman made along the way. Being pragmatic, Mace cared more about outcomes than methods. His son’s survival was enough of a success.

But he was no fool, either. He’d reviewed the video evidence as soon as it was available, watching it repeatedly. With each viewing, he grew increasingly alarmed at how close Brad had come to death.

In these videos, it was the girl who captivated his attention. Discovering that she was the child of one of his former students felt almost surreal—a striking coincidence in a small world.

He felt immense gratitude toward that exceptional student his corps had once missed recruiting. Because she had left behind this child, his son was spared a fatal outcome.

There might have been no logical link between these events, yet the connection seemed like one of life’s miracles—a convergence that filled him with profound gratitude.

In the past, the higher his expectations and the stricter his discipline for his youngest son, the more regret Lieutenant General Mace now felt—regret for pushing him so hard. His son should have been guided gradually into the world by his side, step by step. Instead, due to Mace’ own ambitions, the boy had been forced to stumble his way forward, nearly losing his life in the process.

But regret was now futile. His son had already endured so much; the harm had been done. Now, all he felt as a father was a bottomless well of remorse.

He no longer wanted to put his son through more trials. It was as though he had already witnessed his son’s death, and now Mace simply wanted to see him live a safe, steady life. The hopes and expectations he once held had vanished in an instant.

Jiang Hui had expected the Lieutenant General to ask them about the dangers they’d encountered, or at least inquire about how Second Lieutenant Mace had been rescued. But instead, he asked about their studies at school, even sharing training tips and methods based on his own academic journey.

Jiang Hui wasn’t sure what Xierman thought of these insights, but she personally found them highly valuable. Listening to him, she felt as if she now had a deeper understanding of the soldiers stationed on the Empire’s perilous borders. There was something stirring inside her, a shift—though even she couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

Just as Lieutenant General Mace was about to ask about their plans after completing intermediate academy, the silent family member, who had been standing by, stepped forward. He quickly approached the bed and bent down to support the patient’s back.

“Brother…” the patient on the bed murmured weakly, half-opening his eyes, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

He had regained consciousness.

It was evident that this patient had an unyielding spirit; even in such a weakened state, he refused to show any sign of vulnerability.

Stark, who had been standing quietly in the background, slipped out to notify the medical staff as soon as he realized the patient had woken up. This was the first time the patient had regained consciousness since the life-saving surgery.

The main person they’d come to visit had finally woken up, so there was no point in continuing the conversation. However, Jiang Hui noticed that Lieutenant General Mace didn’t immediately go to his child’s side. Instead, he stood slightly turned, gazing quietly in that direction, his expression inscrutable.

Just emerging from a long, hazy sleep, Brad Mace seemed somewhat disoriented. He looked in confusion at his older brother, who seemed to have suddenly appeared, and then glanced around the room.

Before he could say anything, a team of medical staff poured into the room. About seven or eight of them surrounded Brad, one checking his blood pressure, another attaching electrodes, and yet another monitoring his heart rate. In moments, he was encased in a web of monitors and diagnostic equipment.

Jiang Hui: …

Now she finally understood what it was like whenever she had been injured or unconscious, and the doctors came to check on her. Honestly, the way they handled it—with the skill of butchers who barely gave the “pig” time to realize what was happening—was almost unsettling.