“Zhiting? Zhiting!”
Bai Jinqiu called out to him a few times, but Rong Zhiting remained trapped in his nightmare and could not wake up.
The sound of wind and rain outside the window was accompanied by thunder. Inside the dimly lit room came the sound of soft, fragmented sobs, desolate and despairing, sounding pitiful indeed.
Bai Jinqiu did not know why he somehow could not bear to hear him cry; his heart felt as though it were being gnawed by ants, vaguely aching with a sour pain. Yet he could not move right now and had no way to go across and shake the person awake.
So he took a deep breath, adopted the stern tone he usually used for subordinates who made mistakes, and called out:
“Rong Zhiting!”
On the bed next to his, Rong Zhiting snapped awake in a start, suddenly sitting up, still unable to collect his thoughts for a moment.
It was a dream, a dream, not real! Thank goodness.
“Zhiting, you are crying.” Bai Jinqiu’s gentle and worried voice came from nearby. Rong Zhiting looked over blankly and found that the man was looking at him as well.
He wiped his eyes and found his face covered in cold tear tracks.
“It is nothing. I just had a nightmare.” He struggled to steady his breathing, though his voice still carried a bit of a nasal tone, sounding rather aggrieved.
“What did you dream about?” Bai Jinqiu asked softly.
Hearing the man’s gentle voice, Rong Zhiting’s eyes began to sting with sourness once more.
“Just some bad things.” He paused, then called out: “Brother…”
“Hmm?”
“Can I come over? I want to hold your hand.”
This sentence actually carried a hint of acting spoiled. Rong Zhiting knew that at this point, his relationship with Brother Bai wasn’t that close yet, and doing this wasn’t quite appropriate, but the terror brought by that dream was too profound, and he couldn’t quite control himself.
Bai Jinqiu was startled for a moment, but he didn’t refuse, simply saying, “Alright.”
So Rong Zhiting walked over and took hold of his uninjured left hand.
Neither of their hands belonged to the delicate and soft category. Bai Jinqiu had spent years training and executing various dangerous missions, leaving his hands covered in calluses, and Rong Zhiting’s hands were no different, hardened from years of doing odd jobs and repairing machinery. Two scar-covered hands were clasped together, fitting together surprisingly seamlessly. The warmth of each other’s palms was transmitted across, resembling silent support and encouragement.
Rong Zhiting had always liked the action of holding hands. Brother Bai’s hand was slightly larger than his; the palm wasn’t soft, but it was very warm, always giving him a feeling of being supported and embraced. When held tightly, it could always quickly help him relax.
However, Bai Jinqiu, who had only just met him, naturally wouldn’t rashly grip his hand tightly, so Rong Zhiting unconsciously took the initiative to clasp the man’s hand tighter.
Bai Jinqiu’s breathing paused slightly. He felt as though his heartbeat skipped a beat, and a certain empty corner in his chest seemed to be filled instantly. A mixture of astringency and relief rose from who knows where, unexpectedly making his heart soften.
He turned his head slightly, frowning a little, feeling that he was acting rather strangely.
Yet he didn’t repulse that feeling, so he ignored the nameless, unexplainable train of thought, telling himself that it must be due to his young age, having a nightmare and getting scared, or perhaps dreaming of something that made him sad.
Rong Zhiting lived on a fringe star, and there didn’t seem to be any family members around him. His early years probably hadn’t been easy.
But why did he call out “Brother Bai” in his dream? Was he calling him? Or someone else entirely?
Thinking of this, Bai Jinqiu’s mood inevitably grew somewhat complicated.
“Did you dream of sad things from the past?” he asked tentatively.
Rong Zhiting shook his head, murmuring, “It is not the past.” It was the future.
He had dreamed of what happened after his Brother Bai died.
Those were some chaotic fragments of images.
He saw General Bai, clad in blood-stained combat armor, expressionlessly holding his corpse as he walked out of a sea of fire. His pitch-black hair was whipped up by the explosive heat wave, the tips of his strands scorched by flames. The firelight cast a reddish glow over his warm, delicate face. The tear tracks on his face had already dried, the corners of his eyes still faintly red, but his gaze was terrifyingly ice-cold to the bone.
He saw that man settle his remains, summon Mi Tian, and slaughter his way onto the battlefield. With a reckless, death-defying fighting style, leading the remaining subordinates of the Second Legion, he fought off the majority of the surrounding enemies at the cost of injuries, forcing the enemy forces to abandon their encirclement, and then, he was struck by a traitor’s cold bullet.
Immediately afterward, he was woken up.
It was just a dream. Rong Zhiting kept telling himself.
His General Bai was safe and sound, right beside him. In fact, that person was the one who personally woke him up.
Besides, how could he possibly know what happened after his death in his previous life? So it was merely a nonsensical dream, nothing to take too seriously.
Despite thinking this way, his hand trembled uncontrollably.
Bai Jinqiu noticed it, and as if offering comfort, he squeezed Rong Zhiting’s hand with a bit of added pressure, pulling him back to reality.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Bai Jinqiu asked him.
“Talk about what?” Rong Zhiting asked softly.
“Anything. About your dream, or any other matter.”
How was he supposed to explain this? Rong Zhiting gave a bitter smile. Was he supposed to tell this person that he had dreamed of him dying?
Seeing him fall silent, Bai Jinqiu thought for a moment and proactively brought up a topic: “Didn’t you mention before that you want to take the military academy exams? Why do you want to enter a military academy?”
“Because I want to leave this place,” Rong Zhiting said. “I grew up in an orphanage and do not have memories before the age of nine, but I probably was not from this fringe star originally. In my earliest years at the orphanage, I could not adapt to the living conditions and climate here, and I fell ill frequently.”
“The living environment on the fringe star is very oppressive, security is terrible, and there is almost no order. People here live very difficult lives. Because this is a lawless planet, the federal government couldn’t be bothered to manage it, the police are inactive, the garrison is practically useless, and some even collude with space pirates, making all kinds of crimes practically commonplace here. I do not like this place. So I decided very early on that no matter what, I must leave this place.”
“Taking the military academy exam is the most convenient way to leave here.”
“You have no attachment to this place. Did you not have any friends in the orphanage?” Bai Jinqiu asked casually.
Like another older brother with the surname Bai, for instance.
Rong Zhiting was momentarily stunned, his tone carrying a somewhat complicated nuance as he said: “I used to. But the conditions in the orphanage on the fringe star were too poor. If you wanted to live well there, it was inevitable to have all sorts of open and covert struggles, mutual bullying, framing, and backstabbing. Many children acted sweet on the surface while being malicious behind your backs, acting cute and obedient in front of adults while showing a completely different face to their peers. Things like backstabbing happened far too often; it was impossible to make true friends.”
“It was a bit better when the old director was still around, but after the old director left, the new director and the orphanage teachers couldn’t be bothered to manage us at all. As long as we didn’t cause trouble for them and didn’t kill anyone, they didn’t care.”
It seemed he didn’t have another “Brother Bai.” Bai Jinqiu felt an inexplicable sense of relief, and asked further: “What about you? Were you bullied?”
“Hmm, perhaps I was.” Rong Zhiting thought for a moment before replying.
Although according to his current age he had only just left the orphanage three years ago, in reality, he had already left this fringe star for over twenty years, and recalling memories of his early childhood in the orphanage was no longer all that clear.
Yet back then, he probably hadn’t been bullied too severely. Because even though he looked quite alright and had a very sharp mind, he was skilled at playing invisible. Whether in studies or other activities, he was neither too good nor too bad, neither too fast nor too slow, keeping a low profile, except for the one single time he failed to conceal his intelligence.
Rong Zhiting recalled some rather unpleasant memories and sighed inwardly.
Sensing that he didn’t seem to want to elaborate further, Bai Jinqiu steered the conversation back.
“If you only want to leave this fringe star, taking the military academy exams is not your only option.”
“At your age, being able to repair machinery without systematic training shows that you have an exceptionally high talent for mechanics. Mecha mechanics are a precision industry that heavily tests technical skill, experience, and knowledge reserves. A good mecha mechanic is basically a sought-after talent everywhere. If you are interested in mecha, mechanical engineering schools are actually more suitable for you.”
Bai Jinqiu had grabbed Rong Zhiting’s wrist during the daytime and noticed then that his physical strength wasn’t particularly high. Now he reached out again to grip his arm upward to gauge it, and just as he expected, it was slender enough to be encircled by a single hand, with low muscle density, so he said:
“Your physical constitution grade shouldn’t be very prominent. In the military, unless a Beta has exceptionally high command or combat talent, moving up is very difficult. Furthermore, the recent overall environment of the Federation is tense, and conflicts could erupt at any moment. The Seventy-third Military Academy you plan to take is a very ordinary military academy. New recruits graduating from there and entering the military department in the future will start from the lowest-level non-commissioned officers, and you are very likely to become frontline cannon fodder before you even have a chance to showcase your talents. Mechanical engineering talents, however, do not need to go to the front lines, and their working environment is much safer.”
“You mentioned that scavengers on the fringe star are a decently paying profession, so you should have some savings. You only need to buy an interstellar ship ticket to leave this planet and apply to schools that suit you better.”
Bai Jinqiu’s analysis was sincere, with every word spoken out of consideration for him. Rong Zhiting listened to his analysis with a smile, hearing how every sentence was meant for his benefit, and the entirety of his being filled with pleasant warmth.
If it were based on Rong Zhiting’s current situation, then Bai Jinqiu’s advice was undoubtedly a better and most suitable choice for him. But in truth, Rong Zhiting was simply following the trajectory of his previous life’s lifeline.
When he was truly nineteen in his past life, he only knew how to repair some common ordinary machinery, had never even touched a mecha, let alone knew how to pilot one, and understood nothing about mecha structures. He couldn’t be a scavenger, nor did he have the money to buy an interstellar spaceship ticket, so he had no other choice.
Moreover, his application to the Seventy-third Military Academy wasn’t for those combat majors, but rather for the mecha nursing major.
His brother’s evaluation of his physical constitution was actually conservative; given his physical rank, those combat majors probably wouldn’t accept him at all.
The Seventy-third Military Academy was indeed an ordinary military academy, no doubt about it. But in his previous life, he, an F-rank Alpha originating from that ordinary military academy, ultimately became the chief mechanic of the Second Legion and the personal mecha mechanic of General Bai Jinqiu. Aside from his own extraordinary mind and talent, it was thanks to his teacher: a seemingly unremarkable old man who taught in the mecha nursing major at the Seventy-third Military Academy.
“Brother Bai, you do not need to persuade me,” Rong Zhiting said with a smile in his eyes.
“I want to take the exams for the Seventy-third Military Academy not just to leave the fringe star. At the Seventy-third Military Academy, I will meet a very formidable teacher in the mecha department. So, you do not need to worry that I will go study combat majors and become cannon fodder.”
“Oh?” Bai Jinqiu grew interested, but Rong Zhiting didn’t elaborate further, steering the topic elsewhere instead.
They chatted for a long time. Later on, Bai Jinqiu’s body simply couldn’t hold out any longer, and he drifted off to sleep unawares.
At that moment, the rain outside the window had stopped at some unknown point, and a rare trace of morning light appeared on the edge of the sky, shining into the room through the gaps in the curtains.
Rong Zhiting looked at the man’s sleeping face, which was so lovely it resembled a painting, and curved his eyes in silence.
What he didn’t say aloud was that his insistence on taking the military academy exams, besides wanting to reunite and fall in love with his General Bai once again, was also so that he would have the opportunity in the future to fight side by side with this person once more.
Bai Jinqiu’s assessment of the situation was extremely accurate; four years later, war would break out. And fringe star EQ952B3 would be among the first planets occupied by the rebel army.
When that time came, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with his general on the frontline battlefield.