HDRDTH -Chapter 97 National Hero Without Equal, The Sound of Silence

Chu Feng left with his men. The four military SUVs had arrived like a storm and departed just as quietly.

Only the crimson-and-gold ceremonial flag remained in the living room, glowing under the crystal chandelier.

“Acoustic Grandmaster, Dimensional Strike.”

Yu Xian read those eight words once, only to feel his head buzzing.

He casually pulled down the flag, crumpled it like a rag, and stuffed it deep into the sofa gap—out of sight, out of mind.

“Mr. Yu.” Wang Fei stood barefoot on the carpet. Her voice was still hoarse, but her eyes were frighteningly bright. “Your far-sighted strategy… I, Wang Fei, could never repay even if I worked myself to death.”

“Repay my ass,” Yu Xian waved irritably, heading upstairs in plastic slippers. “Sing quieter at home from now on. Don’t do those high notes—you’re making me nervous. Clean the table. I’m going to sleep. Don’t call me even if the sky falls.”

Wang Fei watched his retreating figure in the worn-out grey shirt.

He had casually disguised what could reshape international military warfare into a rock song.

Leaving without a trace, hiding merit and fame.

This was true simplicity at its peak.

Mr. Yu—the embodiment of righteousness.

She bowed deeply toward his back, then carefully retrieved the flag from the sofa gap, smoothed its wrinkles, folded it solemnly, and placed it close to her chest inside her coat.

The next morning at 8 a.m.

China’s internet was struck by a sudden magnitude-10 earthquake.

Under pressure from Sonic Entertainment, three major music platforms were preparing to quietly delist “Open the Door and See the Mountain.” But then the official account of the Ministry of National Defense suddenly released a three-minute edited video.

Soldiers fought in muddy trenches, crossed raging rivers under gunfire.

And the background music—was that same raw, explosive drumbeat, along with Wang Fei’s throat-ripping roar.

Caption:

“Open the door, see the mountain! Chinese soldiers face all challenges head-on! Thanks to patriotic musician Yu Xian and singer Wang Fei for contributing this battle anthem!”

Within ten minutes, the video surpassed ten million reposts.

At Penguin Music headquarters, the operations director stared at the red verification badge of the Ministry of Defense and nearly fell off his chair.

“Quick! Shred Sonic Entertainment’s pressure letter! Put Open the Door and See the Mountain on all homepage banners immediately!”

He screamed into the tech department.

“Anyone who dares take this song down is going against strategic national defense delivery!”

At Xinghuang Entertainment’s top-floor conference room, Manager Chen slammed a stack of termination notices onto the table.

Across from her, executives from rival companies who had previously blacklisted Wang Fei now sat pale and trembling.

“Misunderstanding… it was all a misunderstanding,” one of them stammered, wiping sweat. “We’ll withdraw all statements immediately.”

“Too late.” Manager Chen adjusted her black-rim glasses and smiled coldly. “Mr. Yu called it dimensional suppression. Your troll accounts have already been wiped by cyber police.”

“Defaming a military-designated anthem—you can go prepare for subpoenas.”

In the underground practice room of the same building, Li Yao stared at the Ministry of Defense video on her phone.

Her face turned deathly pale.

As Japan’s top agent, she understood that rhythm perfectly—strong, weak, weak, strong, extreme strong.

That was the sonar self-destruct code of “Sea Wolf Seven.”

Yu Xian hadn’t killed her. Instead, he forced her into a ten-year contract and left her in this basement.

And now, he had used that same song as a strategic nuclear deterrent against the entire empire.

“He’s warning me…” she trembled, hugging her knees. “He wants me to stay here and watch… as the empire’s greatest secret is trampled underfoot and turned into background music for street dancing aunties.”

Meanwhile, Wang Fei stood in Xinghuang’s top recording studio.

She looked at herself in the mirror—no makeup, no luxury outfit.

She had copied Yu Xian’s style: a faded grey T-shirt and cheap plastic slippers.

She finally understood.

For ten years, she had been a beautifully packaged puppet of capital.

Yu Xian had shattered her cage with two violent guitar strikes.

She no longer needed sugary pop.

She would follow him and sing songs that shook souls—“strategic-level rock.”

Noon, Jinshui Bay Villa No. 1.

Yu Xian woke naturally after a deep sleep.

No special forces breaking doors. No crazy women knocking at midnight.

Peace.

He stretched lazily until his bones cracked.

Outside, the backyard sea-eye had been sealed with concrete and weighed down by stones.

“Good day,” he said happily. “Go fish some crucian carp at Wild Wolf Valley Reservoir. Have braised fish tonight.”

Humming, he walked downstairs.

Then stopped.

His smile froze.

The spacious living room was packed with people.

The boss of Xinghuang Entertainment, the vice president of Penguin Music, the director of NetEase Cloud… even several elderly men in Zhongshan suits with national emblems pinned on their chests.

It seemed Lin Jianguo had finally cracked under pressure and brought them all here.

The moment they saw him, everyone stood up in unison.

“Mr. Yu!”

Lin Jianguo rushed forward, bowing almost ninety degrees.

“You are truly a master strategist! One song and you completely crushed Sonic Entertainment’s face!”

The Penguin Music vice president immediately handed over a blank check stamped with the company seal.

“Mr. Yu! We want to hire you as Chief Acoustic Consultant! Name your price!”

Yu Xian stared at the blank check.

His eyelid twitched.

That money could buy the best carbon-fiber fishing yacht in the world.

But instantly, memories flashed—slimy fish, exploding submarines…

Better equipment meant worse luck.

“I don’t need money!” he snapped, pushing the check away.

An old man in a Zhongshan suit stepped forward, gripping his hand excitedly.

“Comrade Yu! I’m from the Ministry of Culture. Your song has greatly boosted military morale! We hereby appoint you National Special Art Consultant!”

Yu Xian froze.

He looked at the gilded appointment letters.

Then at Wang Fei’s cheap plastic slippers.

“I—”

He took a deep breath through clenched teeth.

“You people are all insane. Are you ever going to stop?!”

He suddenly turned and stormed toward the door.

“Dafu! Grab that nine-yuan fishing rod! We’re leaving!”

“Dad! Where are we going?” Wang Dafu ran after him with a bucket.

“To fish! Even if I drain the entire Yangtze River, I’m finding a place where I can finally have peace!”

Just as Yu Xian stepped out of the copper gate, his phone rang.

“Why is it her again?”

He stared at the screen.

His thumb hovered over the hang-up button.

Answer… or not answer?