In the 1980s, along the southern border of Xinjiang, the scorching sun beat relentlessly down upon the land.
At the training ground of the border anti-drug police unit, the smell of dust and sweat hung thickly in the air.
“Move it! What are you, a bunch of girls?!”
A harsh shout rang across the entire training ground.
Known as the “Wolf Head,” Huo Feng watched every member of his team with a pair of wolf-like eyes.
His very presence embodied the camp’s ironclad discipline.
The soldiers crawled through the mud, their training uniforms already soaked through with sweat and smeared with dirt.
Not a single one dared to slack off.
Because everyone understood one simple truth: every extra drop of sweat shed during training meant one less drop of blood spilled on the battlefield.
Huo Feng’s rules were their law of survival.
The entire camp was filled with an atmosphere of intense tension, strict order, and deadly discipline.
Then, a sudden deafening crash made everyone’s heart skip a beat.
“BOOM!”
The sound was like thunder exploding out of nowhere, painfully shaking their eardrums.
At the edge of the training ground, the steel gate—said to be capable of withstanding a collision with a heavy truck—was now bent inward at an absurd angle.
The hinges groaned under the strain. After twisting violently, the enormous gate finally gave way and came crashing down into the camp.
Dust billowed into the sky.
“Enemy attack!”
Someone shouted.
The soldiers on the training ground reacted almost instinctively. One after another, they rolled to their feet, sought cover, and raised the rifles in their hands.
Their movements were swift and professional. The exhausted bodies from moments ago suddenly erupted with astonishing combat power.
Huo Feng’s expression turned grim as well. He drew his sidearm from his waist, his body tense and his gaze locked firmly on the dust-filled entrance.
Anyone capable of smashing through the gate like that was certainly no ordinary opponent.
The air fell terrifyingly silent, save for the wind howling through the swirling dust.
Everyone’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
Yet when the dust gradually cleared, the sight that appeared at the entrance left these battle-hardened soldiers collectively stunned.
There were no heavily armed mercenaries.
No roaring armored vehicles.
Standing at the entrance was a wild boar.
A gigantic wild boar nearly the size of a small elephant.
Its enormous tusks gleamed an eerie white under the sunlight, with fragments of the steel gate still hanging from them.
At that moment, it impatiently nudged the pile of twisted metal beneath its snout, as if annoyed by the obstacle it had just demolished.
That alone was bizarre enough.
But what was even more unbelievable was the little girl sitting on the boar’s back.
She looked no older than four or five. Her hair was tied into two adorable little buns that stood straight up, bobbing with every movement of the boar.
Her delicate little face was completely expressionless. She simply concentrated on licking a lollipop in her hand, utterly indifferent to the tense atmosphere surrounding her and the dozens of armed men pointing rifles in their direction.
Beside the boar stood a little boy.
He was slightly older, perhaps five or six. His small face was tightly drawn, and his features bore an astonishing seven- or eight-tenths resemblance to Huo Feng.
He wore simple homespun clothes and carried a bamboo basket on his back that did not appear particularly heavy.
But what truly made everyone’s scalp tingle was what he was casually holding in his little hand.
A snake.
Its body shimmered with a golden sheen, decorated with rings of black markings.
It was none other than one of the most notorious venomous creatures in the forests of southern Xinjiang—a many-banded krait.
The deadly snake was docile in the boy’s hands, almost like a harmless little loach. Every now and then, it flicked its tongue and hissed softly.
The entire training ground fell silent.
More than a hundred hardened soldiers were faced with the bizarre combination of one pig, one snake, and two children.
For a moment, none of them knew how to react.
Amid the eerie silence, the little girl on the boar’s back finally finished her lollipop.
She casually tossed away the bare plastic stick, cleared her throat, and then shouted at the crowd in a childish voice tinged with impatience.
“Get Huo Feng out here!”
Her clear, ringing voice echoed across the entire training ground.
But the words she spoke made everyone wonder if they had misheard.
The little girl planted her hands on her hips and shouted again:
“Your wife has brought the dowry from the Ten-Thousand Mountains to return you!”
She enunciated the words “return you” especially clearly.
The entire training ground fell into absolute silence.
Everyone instinctively turned their eyes toward their highest-ranking commander—the “Wolf Head,” Huo Feng.
A crack appeared in Huo Feng’s normally cold, iron-hard expression.
He took heavy steps forward, walking out of the formation one step at a time.
His footsteps were no longer as steady and powerful as usual. Instead, they seemed strangely unsteady.
His gaze passed over the enormous wild boar and the cool, cocky little boy before finally landing on the figure behind them.
A woman slowly emerged.
A woman so beautiful she seemed almost otherworldly.
She wore an elaborate and exquisite Miao ethnic ceremonial dress. Silver ornaments covered her from head to toe, dazzling beneath the sunlight and chiming melodiously with every step she took.
She walked barefoot, her delicate, snow-white feet touching the scorching sand as though she were strolling beside a cool stream, showing not the slightest discomfort.
Then something even more bizarre happened.
Whenever her toes touched the ground, the scorpions, centipedes, and venomous spiders that had crawled out of cracks in the earth after the earlier impact—and were now dazed and disoriented—retreated in terror.
They scattered in every direction, clearing a path for her.
It was as though she was not walking across sand at all, but across a living carpet woven from countless poisonous creatures that instinctively recoiled from her.
This woman was Su Man.
Her beauty was almost妖冶, her delicate features flawless. Yet those beautiful eyes held an icy chill that seemed impossible to melt.
Su Man’s gaze swept through the crowd, ignoring their stunned expressions and the rifles aimed in her direction.
Her eyes went straight to Huo Feng’s complicated expression.
Her red lips parted, and although her voice was soft, every person present heard her clearly.
“Huo Feng.”
She spoke his name in a tone so calm that it sounded as though she were calling out to a stranger.
“Five years ago, I only borrowed your genes.”
“Since you didn’t die on your mission, come over and settle five years of child support.”
“We’re leaving.”
Every word was like a sharp icicle.
There was no emotion in her voice, yet each word struck directly into Huo Feng’s heart.
Huo Feng—the iron-blooded man who had never changed expression even in a hail of bullets—found his mind completely shutting down at the sudden appearance of a “wife and children.”
His chest rose and fell violently, waves of emotion churning in his eyes.
Shock.
Confusion.
Disbelief.
And something he himself had never realized was there—a complicated mixture of overwhelming joy and guilt.
That chaotic rainy night five years ago…
The mysterious woman who had been in his arms, then disappeared without a trace at dawn…
Was it her?
Was it really her?
And these two children…
Were they his?
The absurd and dangerous comedy unfolding before them left the soldiers caught between two completely opposite emotions—so cute and so terrifying.
Their ability to maintain straight faces completely collapsed.
Deputy Captain Zhang Li quietly moved beside Huo Feng and lowered his voice.
“Boss, what… what is going on? Should we clear the area?”
Huo Feng did not answer.
His entire attention was focused on the woman and the two children.
He wanted to get closer.
He wanted to see clearly the face of the woman who had haunted his dreams for five long years.
He wanted to reach out and touch the two children, to make sure that everything before his eyes was not some absurd hallucination brought on by excessive training.
He lifted his foot.
Step by step, he walked toward Su Man.
His movements were slow, filled with hesitation.
When he was only three or four meters away from the children, the little boy who had maintained his cold expression suddenly stepped forward.
His tiny body stood like a wall, firmly blocking Su Man and his little sister from the approaching man.
He raised his head and stared coldly at the man with a pair of eyes almost identical to Huo Feng’s.
“Stop.”
The boy’s voice, like his mother’s, carried a coldness far beyond his years.
“Don’t come near my mom.”