Ling Li swept her silvery sleeve through the air like a wisp of cloud, an elegant motion that commanded attention. "Enough of the pleasantries," she said, her voice calm yet steeped in authority. "Given your condition, you must exercise utmost vigilance. I am assigning you to Beijing."

Pharsa straightened with instinctive resolve, her fingers brushing her abdomen where life stirred softly within her—a revelation still echoing in her mind like the resonant toll of a temple gong—triplets, no less. The weight of the news pressed heavily upon her, and now, with Ling Li's decree, the gravity of her situation deepened. The air thrummed with an intensity that belied Ling Li's serene demeanor.

"You will steer clear of combat and field operations," Ling Li continued, her piercing gaze locked onto Pharsa's, as if she could probe the depths of her soul. "Your primary responsibility will be to lead your team in extracting intelligence on the Politburo members, and you must arrange a discreet meeting with Fen Zhang."

Pharsa nodded slowly, still reeling. "I understand. But… you're sending Mushu with Shi Min. Who's going to stay by your side?"

Ling Li smiled slightly, her tone gently reassuring. "I'll be here. Managing paperwork. Or training with the others. I'll be safe — with Butler Oda and the Seven Shah looking after me."

Pharsa exhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxing just a bit as clarity began to emerge. Pharsa nodded, standing tall despite the tremors of surprise and anticipation coursing through her. Her fingers curled protectively over her stomach, a fierce instinct awakening within her. "Alright. I'll start packing and organizing the team. We'll coordinate with Fen Zhang once I arrive."

Ling Li leaned closer, her tone sharpening into a blade. "I need to discern what the Chinese President intends — especially following our bold maneuver of relocating Camp Phoenix to Myanmar without his prior knowledge."

A ripple of amusement flickered across Pharsa's face as she recalled the ramifications. "Madam, that maneuver was nothing short of seismic. He'll interpret it as a declaration of war."

Ling Li's lips curved into a subtle yet inscrutable smile. "He is already convinced of that. I suspect he views my actions as a direct challenge."

A tense silence enveloped the room, thickening the air until it felt almost palpable. Butler James, intent on arranging the delicate tea tray, paused mid-motion, glancing toward Ling Li with a hint of unease flickering in his eyes.

Pharsa's mind raced, grasping the implications. "Fen Zhang will be under intense scrutiny. If anyone even suspects his loyalty to you —"

"They won't," Ling Li interrupted, her voice cutting like ice through the air. "We ensured that. During his recovery, we allowed the world to believe his family had perished. It was the only way to erase suspicion. He is under my protection. Fen Zhang understands the price of betrayal. His loyalty is absolute, and he owes me everything."

Pharsa's face hardened, the burgeoning vulnerability ebbing away into a sea of tactical focus. "I'll initiate contact through the old channel. He will respond — he has no choice."

Ling Li's expression softened momentarily, the hardness in her eyes giving way to something more human. "You must tread carefully. Beijing is teeming with prying eyes.

Ling Li, her hair flowing around her like a veil of starlight, shimmering in the morning brightness. "Good. You leave in three days. Make sure to spend time with your husband while you can."

"Hmph! Who wants to spend time with him?!" Pharsa retorted, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice despite her earlier shock.

"I want a comprehensive report on Fen Zhang's meeting, the President's movements, and any indications of retaliation once you arrive in Beijing." Ling Li said.

Pharsa rose, her hand resting lightly on her belly, a silent promise echoing within her. "I will deliver."

Ling Li lingered at the doorway, her voice barely above a whisper now. "And Pharsa…"

"Yes, Madam?"

"Do not allow them to witness even a flicker of weakness. Not once."

Pharsa's eyes gleamed with fierce determination. "They won't."

"Don't faint again."

Pharsa cracked a smile, despite the tension. "I'll try not to."

"Ah, Butler James, would you be so kind as to deliver this to Mushu?" Ling Li asked, her emerald eyes shimmering with determination. With fluid grace, she reached into her glimmering spatial ring and produced several intricately designed pouches. Each pouch was a masterpiece, embroidered with delicate patterns that danced and sparkled in the soft light, hinting at the precious substances contained within. "I completely forgot to pass these on to him. Please tell him to soak his body in these for two hours every night. He must finish every last morsel within," she instructed, her voice laced with both urgency and an unmistakable tenderness.

"Understood, Lady Ling," Butler James replied, his demeanor as steady and unwavering as a well-polished statue. He accepted the pouches with utmost reverence, cradling them in his hands as if they held the secrets to a hidden treasure waiting to be unveiled.

"Lady Ling?" Ling Li raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued as she regarded Butler James with a playful glint in her gaze.

"Ehem," Butler James cleared his throat, a light flush creeping up his cheeks. "I just thought it sounded better than Madam."

Ling Li chuckled, the melodic sound brightening the air around them. "It does sound better," she agreed, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I know, right?" Butler James said, puffing out his chest with a sense of pride, as if he had just achieved a remarkable feat. The atmosphere crackled with camaraderie, woven through their playful exchange, as they savored a moment of levity amidst their duties.

Pharsa, her mood heavy with the weight of unexpected news, let out a disdainful snort that echoed her frustration. The revelation of her pregnancy hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting shadows over her previously carefree demeanor. She shot him a sideways glance, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of disbelief and irritation, as if daring him to breach the silence with a word of comfort or understanding.

Ling Li chuckled softly, finishing her breakfast with an air of quiet satisfaction. She turned toward the hallway, her steps light yet purposeful, as if the very essence of destiny propelled her forward.

__________

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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