Chapter 227

The return route of the Penglai was also chosen interestingly, flying directly west along the International Date Line, which just happened to circle the Earth three times.

When the coastline of the East Sea reappeared on the horizon, everyone on the bridge let out a sigh of relief.

Wang Hao stretched: "Finally almost home. This global trip is enough for me to brag about for a lifetime."

Li Yang stared at the navigation chart: "Don't relax, three hundred nautical miles ahead, Eagle Country's Reagan carrier strike group is conducting routine exercises, and their exercise area happens to block our route back to base."

"'Isn't it intentional?' Wang Hao raised an eyebrow."

"'What do you say?'"

Sure enough, ten minutes later, a call in American English came over the public channel:

"'Unidentified aircraft, this is Eagle Country Navy's Reagan strike group. We are conducting military exercises in this area; please immediately identify yourselves and your intentions, and change course.'"

The tone was still polite, but the meaning was clear: this way is blocked, detour.

Li Yang replied: "This is Longguo's space-air mother ship Penglai, returning to home port. Our route complies with international law; I suggest you adjust your exercise area to avoid misjudgment."

The channel fell silent for a few seconds.

Then a different voice came: "I am James Cole, commander of the Reagan."

"'Penglai, you are approaching our exercise no-fly zone. For safety, please change course immediately.'"

Wang Hao leaned toward the microphone: "General Cole, right? Funny, we just met in the East Sea a week ago."

"'Back then your Ares fell into the sea; did you need us to help salvage it? Fair price.'"

Chen Guang covered his forehead on the deck: 'Haizi, don't cause trouble.'

"'I didn't cause trouble!' Wang Hao looked innocent, 'I'm just providing after-sales service!'"

On the Reagan's deck, Cole's face turned ashen.

The deputy officer whispered: 'Sir, their route is indeed in international airspace; we have no reason...'

"'I didn't say we should use force.' Cole interrupted him."

"'But we can't lose face; launch two squadrons of F-35s, form a formation to 'escort' them on a detour.'"

"'Remember, we are escorting, not intercepting.'"

"'Understood.'"

Twenty-four F-35s took off in succession, forming two diamond formations in the air, flying toward the Penglai.

The movements were very standard, the distance well kept, as if they were genuinely providing escort service.

But everyone knew what this meant: a show of presence, applying pressure, telling the other side that this sky was still under our control.

At least that's what they thought.

On the Penglai bridge, Li Yang looked at the twenty-four blips on the radar and smiled: 'Quite courteous, sending that many planes to see us off.'

"'Should we also return the favor?' Wang Hao rubbed his hands."

"'How about... letting the Bi'an-3S go up and play with them?'"

Feng Yan's voice came from the control room: 'Keep it measured, just show strength; we're not looking to provoke.'

"'Understood!'"

The midship ejection hatch opened, and twelve Bi'an-3S mechs were launched one after another.

They transformed instantly upon exiting the hatch, shifting from humanoid to aircraft form, wings unfolding, igniters firing.

In just three seconds, the twelve mechs had formed a battle formation and moved to meet the F-35 formation.

Over the public channel, Li Yang's calm voice sounded: 'Thanks for your "escort"; our mech formation will conduct a courteous flyby drill. Please maintain a safe distance.'

"'A courtesy flyby drill? What are they up to?' Cole frowned in the carrier's command center."

Soon he found out.

In the sky, the twelve mechs began their performance.

First they formed a tight triangular formation, flying parallel to the F-35 formation.

Then they suddenly dispersed, tracing complex geometric patterns in the air—sometimes like birds circling, sometimes like swords interweaving—with near-perfect synchronization.

The most impressive part was speed control.

The mechs can accelerate from subsonic to Mach 2 within 0.5 seconds, then drop to a hover in the next second.

That kind of physics-defying maneuverability left the F-35 pilots gaping.

"'Sir, their maneuverability... completely exceeds our tactical manual.' The pilot reported over the channel."

"'Our radar lock-on systems can't keep up with their turning speed.'"

"'Then keep your distance—don't let them out‑maneuver you!' Cole gritted his teeth."

But what came next utterly shattered their pride.

The twelve mechs suddenly climbed vertically as a group.

It was like a rocket shooting straight up, thrusters spewing incandescent white flames, accelerating so fast they dragged a sonic‑boom cloud through the air.

Within three seconds they had climbed from 10,000 meters to 20,000 meters, then to 30,000 meters…

"'Radar, radar lost the target!' the carrier's radar operator exclaimed."

"'Thermal signatures show… they're at 35 kilometers?!'"

The command room fell into dead silence.

The F-35's service ceiling is 18,000 meters; at most it can barely reach 20,000 meters.

An altitude of 35,000 meters? That's reconnaissance‑satellite territory.

The deputy officer murmured: 'They… they can already fight at that altitude?'

No one answered him.

Because the answer was already written in the sky.

On the Penglai bridge, Wang Hao looked at the radar signals of the few mechs circling at 30,000 meters and grinned: 'Is that all? Haoge I haven't even broken a sweat yet.'

Li Yang shook his head helplessly: "Alright, quit while ahead. Recall the mechs, we continue returning."

"Understood!"

Twelve mechs began descending, re-formed, and flew back to Penglai.

When passing the F-35 formation, they deliberately wagged their wings—a pilot's courtesy meaning 'after you'.

But in this context, the gesture looks like saying, "Can you reach it? You can't, right?"

The F-35 pilots silently cleared the flight path.

The channel was silent too, nothing but the hiss of static.

That afternoon, the Longguo Ministry of Foreign Affairs held a regular press briefing.

A foreign media reporter asked: "Is the Longguo aerospace carrier's close-range standoff with an Eagle Country carrier in international waters considered provocative?"

The spokesperson smiled: "First, the Penglai was sailing normally in international airspace, in accordance with international law."

"Second, regarding the 'standoff'—according to our records, both sides kept a safe distance and engaged in friendly communication."

"As for certain countries that often send carriers to our doorstep for drills…"

He paused:

"We have always maintained that when visiting neighbors, one should knock first. To show up uninvited and block the door is not the way of a guest."

Clips of the press briefing went viral on social media.

Netizens' divine comments:

"Translation: The road outside my gate—I'll walk it however I like."

"Is that 'friendly communication' what Wang Hao meant by offering salvage services?"

"F-35: I can fly 20,000. Mech: I can casually fly 35,000. F-35: … Farewell."

At six in the evening, Penglai landed steadily at the base.

The global cruise ended, with total distance circling the Earth three times.

On the bridge, Chen Guang summarized the final data: "Thirty-seven countries attempted to track us midway, all failed. Penglai's stealth system actually performed 40% above design specifications."

Wang Hao slumped in his chair: "Finally able to get a full night's sleep."

Meanwhile, outside the base, the reserve troops who had just finished their evaluation were marching past in formation.

They looked up at the massive vessel in the night sky, their eyes filled with anticipation, awe, and a burning urge to try.