odessanovel Chapter 346
Chapter 346
Outside the International Space Conference Center, dusk was falling.The meeting had finally ended. Specialized diplomats were assigned to escort the delegations from various countries, and Rong Yu was finally able to withdraw.
Sheng Qingyan had just pushed open the glass door of the conference hall for her when a burst of celebratory firecrackers exploded.
"Boom—!"
Streamers flew everywhere, drifting down onto the heads of Rong Yu and Sheng Qingyan.
"Hail the triumphant return of our aerospace heroine—!"
The entire Ji family stood in a line, their formation as grand as a red carpet at a film festival.
Old Master Ji stood at the forefront, wearing a bright red Tang suit and holding an erhu. He immediately played a marching tune with great vigor and declared in a booming voice, "Mom, you were incredible today. With the truth, you slapped the faces of the delegates from all over the world, showcasing our national power and making grand strides!"
Rong Yu: "..."
When had this old rascal learned to play the erhu? And he was actually pretty good at it.
Ji Zhiyuan strode forward, pulling out a stack of documents: "Just now, the five major families of Haicheng jointly acquired a portion of the family assets owned by Mr. Oliver, the representative from Beacon Country. After a unanimous decision, we have decided to gift these assets to Great-grandmother as a celebration gift. Please accept."
Rong Yu: "..."
Oliver came to Huaxia to compete for interests on behalf of Beacon Country, and ended up having his home raided. She silently lit a candle for him.
Ji Yanting straightened his tie and spoke up: "Great-grandmother, a production team approached me. They want to base a movie on your story, a film about the vast sea and stars, and invite a young actress who suits the image to play you. Would Great-grandmother be willing to authorize it?"
Rong Yu: "..."
She was still alive, and they wanted to find someone to play her—how did that feel so strange?
Ji Mohan took out a massage device and forcefully hung it around Rong Yu’s neck: "Great-grandmother has been working too hard these past few days. Try out this massage device I developed. Every person at the Chinese Academy of Sciences has one. It’s good for easing neck pain from looking down at data."
Rong Yu twisted her neck: "This is not bad."
Ji Jingchuan said plainly: "I just hired a group of online trolls. Now, on the foreign internet, the trending topic is #OliverCountdownToResignation#. Does Great-grandmother want to check the real-time trending index?"
Rong Yu gave a thumbs-up.
Now it would be almost impossible for Oliver to avoid resigning.
"All of you, move aside!" Ji Zhouye strode over energetically, pulled a silk banner from behind him, unfurled it with a snap, and read aloud in a loud voice: "Face-slapping skills unmatched in the world, global certification as the ultimate trouble-scoundrel nemesis!"
"—Written and respectfully presented by the Universally Invincible, Superbly Thunderous, Number One Filial Grandson, Ji Zhouye."
The whole crowd fell silent for three seconds.
Old Master Ji slapped him upside the head: "You even misspelled the word for 'thunderous,' you useless brat! All those years of schooling wasted!"
Ji Zhiyuan held back his laughter and coughed: "The handwriting is so ugly, hanging it in the bathroom would work great for warding off evil. Good, very good."
Ji Yanting frowned: "How is this so similar to the silk banner that Duoduo made in kindergarten handicraft class a few days ago?"
Ji Mohan quietly explained: "Second Brother, you didn’t see it wrong—that’s exactly the same banner. Aye borrowed it and customized it."
Ji Jingchuan remarked: "Aye rarely writes his own calligraphy. We can make do and look the other way."
"Wah wah, as expected, Fourth Brother loves me the most," Ji Zhouye said with a fake crying face. "Great-grandmother, do you think it looks good?"
Rong Yu reached out and rubbed his fuzzy head: "It’s wonderful."
The vast sea of stars might be important.
But none of it could compare to the warmth of family. The ugly banner didn’t diminish the heartfelt sentiment.
Duoduo’s sweet, soft voice piped up: "Auntie, Great-Grandpa, Dad, Second Uncle, Third Uncle, Fourth Uncle, Little Uncle—come, let’s take a group photo together."
She held up her phone and switched it to selfie mode.
Sheng Qingyan, standing beside Rong Yu, quietly stepped back a few paces, moving out of the frame.
But a firm grasp caught him.
Old Master Ji pulled him to his own side: "Mr. Sheng, stand right here, we’ll take the photo together."
On his left was Rong Yu, on his right was Sheng Qingyan, and in front were the five grandsons in a row. Duoduo, held in Ji Zhiyuan’s arms, raised the phone high.
"Everyone, smile—!"
Duoduo clicked the capture button a dozen times in rapid succession.
The phone froze the moment of the family portrait. Sheng Qingyan’s daze had yet to fade.
Staring at the photo in which he stood shoulder to shoulder with the Ji family, his heart felt as if it were gently squeezed. Was this warmth truly something he deserved?
He seemed to have forgotten something.
What was it?
But then, the very next second—
"Bang!"
A gunshot from a distance suddenly tore through the evening sunset.
"Get down—!"
Sheng Qingyan reacted in an instant, pressing Rong Yu into his chest with one hand while grabbing Old Master Ji with the other, rolling hard toward the cover of a barrier.
A bullet grazed past his ear, embedding deeply into the wall behind.
The five Ji grandsons each scrambled to find cover. None of them had ever experienced such a scene; no one dared to move.
"It’s a sniper targeting you!" Sheng Qingyan’s eyes darkened. "A-Yu, I’ll cover your retreat!"
Rong Yu shook her head: "Sheng Qingyan, you first cover Yingbao and Duoduo to withdraw. They’re an old man and a little child—they can’t be allowed to get hurt. Go quickly!"
Old Master Ji’s eyes reddened: "Mom, I’m not leaving."
Rong Yu touched his face: "Yingbao, that car accident seventy years ago left a lifelong trauma in your heart. Mom will never abandon you again… Don’t worry, Mom won’t get hurt. You evacuate first, be good."
Sheng Qingyan was dazed again.
Every word A-Yu said, he understood its meaning. But when they were all strung together, he couldn’t make sense of it.
Now wasn’t the time to think about that.
"Yingbao, Duoduo, close your eyes and hold tight to me."
The moment Sheng Qingyan spoke the words "Yingbao," he himself froze for an instant.
But there was no time to ponder.
Duoduo was scooped up. The little girl wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face against his shoulder, her eyelashes trembling as she squeezed her eyes shut.
Old Master Ji gave Rong Yu one last glance, his eyes red, then placed his hand in Sheng Qingyan’s. The old man was swept up like a child, tucked under Sheng Qingyan’s arm. He wanted to resist, but resistance was useless…
Sheng Qingyan pulled out a gun and handed it over: "A-Yu, take the gun. Protect yourself. I’ll be right back."
He forced himself to look away, his gaze sweeping the surroundings.
The sniper’s position was high. Bullets were coming from the southeast. The nearest cover was a bulletproof reception vehicle fifteen meters away.
But in between lay an open square with no cover at all.
He took a deep breath, pressed his body low, and shot forward like a cheetah.
"Bang—!"
A bullet whizzed past his ear, the scorching air searing his skin.
Sheng Qingyan didn’t stop, didn’t even lower his head—he abruptly changed direction, sprinting in an irregular trajectory.
This was an anti-sniper maneuver learned on the battlefield.
Old Master Ji’s stomach churned from the jostling, but he clenched his teeth silently. Duoduo’s little hands gripped even tighter, her soft hair flying in the wind.
"Swoosh—!"
A bullet shattered the brick at their feet, scattering debris.
Sheng Qingyan twisted sharply, shielding his back against the flying shards.
"Ugh…" A sharp shard of porcelain sliced into his shoulder blade, blood instantly soaking through his shirt.
Duoduo heard his muffled groan and flinched in terror: "Uncle Sheng…"
"Don’t open your eyes," he said, his voice still steady. "We’re playing hide-and-seek. Count to a hundred, and we’ll be safe."
He looked at Old Master Ji, whose face had turned pale, and his voice carried a coaxing tenderness, as if soothing a child. "Old Master, do you know how to use a gun?"
Old Master Ji’s gaze was somewhat unfocused. "I suppose... I do," he said.
That was over seventy years ago. There had been a pistol left behind by his father, and his mother had taught him how to use it. But there were no bullets in the house—he had never actually fired a gun in his life.
Sheng Qingyan pulled a spare gun from the small of his back and handed it over. "In ten seconds, I’ll run to the left."
He pointed to the reflective metal ornament on the edge of the fountain—an excellent makeshift mirror.
Old Master Ji’s hands trembled slightly.
He struggled to speak. "Can I... really do this?"
Sheng Qingyan said each word slowly and firmly, "I said you can, so you can. Listen to my command—get ready—"