Chapter 299: Night in Koblenz

Morin sighed and sat up from the bed.

He thought it was a manor servant or perhaps a bold lady who hadn’t gotten what she wanted at the banquet.

Rubbing his slightly stiff face and putting on his polite smile again, Morin got up, walked to the door, and opened it, ready to send the visitor away with the most courteous words.

However, the person standing outside the door made all the words he had prepared stick in his throat.

Under the soft corridor lights, Cecilia was standing there quietly.

And behind her was her inseparable head maid, Luna.

“? Cecilia—Sister?”

Morin looked at the familiar yet slightly haggard face outside the door, rendered speechless for a moment.

He thought she would only arrive tomorrow.

Cecilia didn’t speak, just looked at him quietly.

Her gaze moved from Morin’s slightly parted mouth due to surprise to his unbuttoned shirt collar, and finally returned to his eyes.

Those eyes, usually as cool as lake water, were now filled with the fatigue of travel and a complex emotion that Morin couldn’t fully read.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in to sit?”

After a long while, Cecilia spoke softly, her voice slightly hoarse.

“Ah—Quick, please come in!”

Morin woke up from his dream and quickly stepped aside.

Cecilia walked into the room, her gaze immediately landing on the uniform covered with medals that Morin had casually thrown on the sofa.

Her eyes lingered on the Blue Max medal for several seconds.

Then she sighed almost imperceptibly.

Morin: “Cecilia Sister, didn’t you—the butler said you would arrive tomorrow afternoon? Why so late—”

“It was originally scheduled for tomorrow.”

Cecilia took off the coat on her shoulders, which carried the chill of the night dew, and handed it to Luna.

She was wearing a well-tailored dark blue travel suit that outlined her mature and graceful curves.

“Yesterday in Dresden, I received the news of your arrival in Koblenz. I asked my secretary to cancel several meetings this morning, handled the most urgent documents at hand, and took the train here early in the morning.”

As she spoke, she walked to the sofa in the center of the room and sat down. Her movements were elegant, but she couldn’t hide the fatigue between her brows.

Hearing that she had traveled through the night just for him, Morin’s heart was instantly filled with an indescribable emotion.

He walked over and sat on the sofa opposite her. He opened his mouth, but found that what he wanted to ask most was the most unromantic question.

“Then—did you receive the letter I sent you before?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Morin wanted to slap himself.

Someone rushed here day and night to see you, and your first sentence is about business?

Sure enough, Cecilia was stunned for a moment upon hearing this, then rolled her eyes at him unhappily.

A vivid look of annoyance rarely appeared on that cool face.

She extended her slender index finger and gently tapped Morin’s forehead across the coffee table.

“You heartless thing, is your head full of your guns, cannons, cars, and tracks now? Do you not miss me, your sister, at all?”

“No way—”

Morin touched the spot she had tapped somewhat embarrassedly and muttered in a low voice: “I was just afraid the letter got lost. It contained important content.”

“Received it. Not a single one lost.”

Cecilia retracted her hand, her tone becoming gentle again.

She leaned forward slightly, carefully examining Morin’s face, her gaze landing on the few scabs on his cheek and forehead.

She couldn’t help but reach out, her fingertips gently and cautiously brushing over the longest scar that ran from his brow bone to his temple.

This was left in Amiens.

“Does it hurt?”

“Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Morin smiled, wanting to reassure her.

“They are just flesh wounds. They look scary, but are actually nothing. On the battlefield, these are nothing.”

“Still tough-mouthed.”

Cecilia’s fingers paused, but her gaze became sharp, scrutinizing him inch by inch.

“Is that really all?”

She leaned closer, her nostrils flaring slightly as if catching any unusual scent in the air.

“Are you hiding any other injuries from me?”

Her intuition was terrifyingly keen.

At this moment, Morin felt his heart skip a beat. Although the injury on his waist wasn’t severe, it was a sizeable cut.

To prevent infection, he treated it daily with iodine and sulfa powder as ordered by the military doctor.

That unique medicinal smell, no matter how faint, couldn’t be hidden from such close sniffing.

“Of course not!”

Morin, reacting quickly, immediately denied it. At the same time, he leaned back calmly, trying to create some distance, and quickly changed the subject.

“By the way, Sister Cecilia! Do you think the tracked vehicle mentioned in my letter is feasible? With our Empire’s current Radiant Crystal Internal Combustion Engine technology, I think it’s completely possible—”

However, how could his small movements and stiff subject change deceive Cecilia?

Her gaze flickered. She didn’t expose him on the spot but followed his words and sat up straight again.

But her eyes never left Morin’s face, as if saying: Keep making things up, let’s see how long you can keep it up…

“The ideas mentioned in your letter are very forward-looking.”

Cecilia picked up the hot tea Luna had just poured for her, blew on it gently, and took a small sip.

The warm tea seemed to dispel some of her fatigue.

“Before you wrote the letter, the military logistics department had actually realized the problem of insufficient off-road capability of existing military trucks and proposed improvement requirements to several major vehicle manufacturing companies.”

“However, their thinking remained on the level of reinforcing the chassis and replacing with higher-power engines.”

She paused, looking at Morin with a hint of praise in her eyes: “Instead, you directly pointed out the core of the problem—suspension system and tires, and proposed the brand-new concept of tracked military vehicles.”

“The day after your letter arrived in Dresden, I convened a technical seminar with the heads and chief designers of all enterprises under the United Industries involved in vehicle manufacturing and mechanical engineering.”

Hearing this, Morin couldn’t help sitting up straight.

He knew how terrifying Cecilia’s execution ability was once she got serious.

“Currently, three independent teams have come up with three different plans.”

Cecilia put down the teacup and enumerated: “The first is an improved version of the existing 2.5-ton military truck. The team adopted your suggestion, redesigned the multi-leaf steel plate spring suspension, and is trying to develop wider off-road tires. The prototype is expected to roll off the line for testing next week.”

“The second is a brand-new 4.5-ton medium truck. It uses a more powerful Radiant Crystal Engine and a new chassis structure, aiming to balance load capacity and off-road performance… This project is jointly responsible by the teams of Daimler and Benz.”

“The third is the tracked vehicle you care about most.”

Looking at Morin’s absorbed expression, the corner of Cecilia’s mouth curled into a faint smile.

“The engineers at Demag are very interested in your idea~”

“So they drew on the structure of agricultural tractors and designed a semi-tracked vehicle. The front part has steerable wheels, and the rear part has a tracked walking mechanism.”

“They believe this structure is easier to realize at this stage and can better balance road speed and off-road capability. However, it is still in the blueprint stage, and the prototype will probably take some time to come out.”

Daimler, Benz, Demag—

When this series of names, thunderous in the world before Morin’s time travel, were casually spoken by Cecilia, he was a bit dazed.

He was shocked not only that these famous companies were all within Cecilia’s business empire map.

He was even more shocked that his unconstrained ideas in the letter had become tangible reality in such a short time by these top engineer teams.

Based on the history of these companies, he could even imagine what those prototypes would look like.

“If you stay in the country long enough this time, maybe you can witness the birth of these new guys with your own eyes.”

Cecilia looked at Morin’s shocked and excited appearance, and her mood improved a lot.

“By the way!”

As if remembering something, she added: “Helga also received your letter. She is fascinated by the ‘gas-operated principle’ semi-automatic rifle you proposed. She locks herself in the workshop every day. Given her efficiency, there will probably be results soon.”

Hearing news about Helga, Morin was even more excited.

Once the semi-automatic rifle was successfully developed and deployed, the firepower of his troops would undergo a qualitative change.

“Also—”

Cecilia’s tone suddenly became somewhat resentful. Her beautiful eyes looked Morin up and down with a scrutiny.

“How did you get that arrogant eldest miss of the Seeckt family to help you study Magitech wholeheartedly?”

“Ah?”

“She recently stopped several projects at hand and devoted herself to the ‘portable Magitech communication device’ you mentioned.”

“Ah? This—I’m not too sure either.”

Morin spread his hands innocently.

“I just chatted with Miss Patricia once when I visited the Magitech Research Institute and asked her some questions about Magitech. Maybe—maybe she was moved by my dedication to science?”

“Is that so?” Cecilia obviously didn’t believe a word.

She suddenly stood up and walked to Morin again. This time, her movement carried a strong “sense of oppression.”

She leaned down, the tip of her nose almost touching Morin’s collar, and took a deep breath.

This time, she hesitated no more, her cool voice carrying an irrefutable certainty.

“I smelled it… very faint, but it’s there.”

“It’s the smell of iodine and sulfa.”

She raised her head, her gaze torch-like, looking straight into Morin’s eyes.

“Where is the wound, Friedrich? Stop lying to me.”

Stared at by those clear and sharp eyes, Morin opened his mouth, and finally could only sigh helplessly, raising his hands in surrender.

“Alright, I admit—I did get a little injury on my waist.”

As he spoke, he subconsciously wanted to cover his waist, but felt the action was too deliberate, so he could only stop awkwardly in mid-air.

“Just accidentally got scratched in Amiens, it’s nothing serious… The wound is almost healed! Really, not lying to you.”

Morin tried to speak in the most relaxed tone: “Look at me now, can run and jump, no problem at all.”

To prove his words were true, he tried to stand up from the sofa. As a result, the movement was a bit too big, pulling the muscles on his waist side. A slight stinging pain made the expression on his face stiffen for a moment.

This subtle change naturally did not escape Cecilia’s eyes.

The worry in her eyes deepened, and her tone became tough: “Sit down, don’t move.”

Morin had to sit back obediently.

He looked at Cecilia, trying to regain the initiative: “Cecilia Sister, it’s so late, and you must be tired after traveling all day. Go rest first. I’ll ask the waiter for some medicine later and change it myself.”

“No.” Cecilia’s answer was simple and firm.

She turned to instruct the head maid Luna, who had been standing quietly by the side: “Luna, go downstairs and ask the butler to bring up the spare medical kit in the manor.”

“Yes, Madam.” Luna bowed and turned to leave the room quickly.

Only Morin and Cecilia were left in the room, and the atmosphere became somewhat subtle at this moment.

“Unbutton your shirt.” Cecilia looked at Morin and said seriously.

“Ah? Here?” Morin was dumbfounded, “This—this isn’t good, right?”

“What’s not good?”

Cecilia raised an eyebrow: “When you were messing around outside before, did I apply medicine for you any less? I know clearly how many moles you have on your body. Now that you’ve grown up and your wings are hard, you know how to be shy?!”

Her words completely declared Morin’s “weak and powerless” struggle bankrupt.

He dallied unbuttoning his shirt, then pulled the hem out of his trousers, revealing the bandage wrapped around his waist.

Although the bandage was clean, a small patch stained with pale yellow medicinal liquid could still be seen.

Cecilia walked to his side, half-squatted down, carefully untied the knot of the bandage, and then removed it loop by loop.

As the last layer of bandage was removed, the wound was finally exposed to the air.

The wound was on the left side of his waist, a scratch about ten centimeters long.

Just as Morin said, the wound itself wasn’t deep and had healed considerably.

Seeing that the wound wasn’t as hideous and terrifying as she imagined, Cecilia secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

But immediately after, a more turbulent heartache and lingering fear surged into her heart.

Her fingertips trembled as she stroked the intact skin around the wound, feeling the young and powerful muscle lines.

Morin’s body involuntarily tensed up because of her touch.

He could feel the slight coolness and trembling of her fingertips, smell the faint fragrance from her hair, and clearly hear her breathing becoming somewhat rapid due to nervousness and heartache.

The room was terribly quiet, with only the interlaced breathing of the two.

Morin suddenly found that the atmosphere seemed increasingly wrong.

Looking down, he could see Cecilia’s exquisite profile and her collar slightly opened due to leaning over.

Moonlight spilled on her through the window, coating her with a hazy and holy halo.

But Morin read a trace of unrest from her slightly reddened ears and those eyes that seemed somewhat out of focus while examining the wound.

That was an emotion suppressed for a long time, finally unable to be hidden at this moment.

Morin’s heartbeat also began to accelerate uncontrollably.

He was a normal male, and due to staying within the army and fighting… as mentioned before, he hadn’t “taken off” for 8 months.

Although Morin wasn’t interested in those vulgar women at the banquet, it didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in this perfect woman like a goddess in front of him.

“Cecilia—Sister—”

His Adam’s apple rolled, and he called her softly.

His voice broke the ambiguous and fragile calm in the room.

Cecilia’s body trembled violently. She slowly raised her head and looked into Morin’s eyes.

In those eyes, there was no longer the usual coolness, replaced by a scorching emotion Morin had never seen before, enough to melt a person.

At this moment, Morin realized that some things had reached the point of no return.

He felt his throat somewhat dry and subconsciously said in a near-whispering voice: “I still have—wounds on my body—”

Cecilia looked at him, at his eyes also filled with nervousness and desire, and the corner of her mouth suddenly curved into an arc.

Her voice was as gentle as a lover’s whisper.

“But aren’t they almost healed?”

“Why is the door closed?”

Outside the door, Head Maid Luna, holding a tray with a first aid kit and hot water, was puzzled.

But when her hand was about to touch the door panel, it stopped in mid-air.

Because she heard the sounds coming from the room.

As Cecilia’s most intimate maid, Luna instantly understood what was happening inside.

There was no surprise on her face; instead, she showed a gratified smile, like an old mother.

Luna knew that Madam had waited for this day for too long.

The head maid quietly took two steps back and gently placed the tray in her hand on the carpet at the door.

Then, like the most loyal guard, she stood at the end of the corridor, stopping anyone who might come to disturb.