This planet had no electricity, so once the sky turned dark, the soldiers stopped their training.
Xingyuan dragged his exhausted body alone back toward the tent. Although he had no strength left in his whole body, his eyes were extremely bright.
He could clearly feel that his physical strength had increased somewhat. Although he didn’t know how far he still was from B-rank, he finally had something to look forward to.
The tent was pitch black today—clearly the man hadn’t come back yet. Xingyuan turned on the night light built into his school uniform. Though it couldn’t compare to a light bulb, it was much brighter than the original kerosene lamp.
The sky had already gone dark, but it wasn’t even eight o’clock at night yet—far from Xingyuan’s usual bedtime.
Seeing this, Xingyuan didn’t sit idle either. After thinking for a moment, he eagerly dug out the transparent book from his backpack.
In order to fully simulate the environment of this place, the Star Network was temporarily blocked here. Xingyuan had no way to look up certain information, so he could only look through the textbooks that had already been loaded.
Normally, Xingyuan would get sleepy the moment he saw a book. But now, his days finally had something to look forward to, and toward the textbook he had finally mustered his full spirits.
The night was long, and the boy lay sprawled on the made-up “bed,” quietly turning page after page of the book.
The order had come down suddenly, so Aisley could only gather his subordinates for an emergency meeting. On his way back, his pace quickened.
Tonight’s dark clouds covered the starlight; without candlelight, the surroundings would have been pitch black.
Aisley held a fire starter in his hand, his gaze turned in one direction. The child was already so old—surely it would be fine even without light? Even though he thought this in his heart, and even though his heart felt relaxed, his footsteps never slowed.
He walked along the familiar path, and at a glance, he saw a trace of light. Aisley paused. The tent reflected in his pupils was unbelievably familiar. He fell silent, a warm current welling up from somewhere unknown and slowly spreading through his whole body.
He declined the guard’s salute, then gently lifted the tent flap. In the quiet space, even the smallest sound was enough to draw the boy’s attention.
The boy was still so fair and delicate, lying sprawled on the glowing bedding. Hearing the sound, the boy opened his round eyes and met Aisley’s gaze, and then a smile bloomed in Aisley’s field of view.
Aisley’s eyes stirred with light. He tugged at the corner of his mouth, lowered his eyes with a smile, and then walked in.
Even knowing the boy had his own light, he still lit the kerosene lamp for them. He leaned against the bed, looking at that object on the boy’s pillow, his gaze deep.
That was… a book?
Aisley’s hand holding the blanket tightened. Many inexplicable emotions rose in his eyes. As a child, a book had been his extravagant wish. After growing up, he had gained the ability to own books, but for various reasons, he had never once owned a book of his own.
He still remembered that as a child, his dream had been to become a poet. But many people said he had no talent for it, that he wasn’t suited to learning. Aisley smiled faintly—he had always scoffed at such claims.
Aisley leaned against the bed, tilting his head as he smiled and watched. Deep within that careless smile hid a trace of envy.
Xingyuan didn’t know when he had fallen asleep. Aisley lifted the blanket and got up from the bed. He was about to walk toward the boy, but paused for a moment before doing so. He took gloves out of a box and put them on, and only then walked over to the boy’s side.
Aisley didn’t look at the book’s contents. He first gently closed the book and set it beside the boy’s pillow, then carefully took hold of the boy’s jade-white little arm.
He held his breath, gently moved the arm down, and then turned the boy over. During this process, veins stood out on Aisley—the motion, though seemingly very gentle, clearly took great effort for him to perform.
Once everything was arranged, he tucked the corner of the blanket in for the boy. Looking at the other’s curled lashes, he pressed his dry lips together, and only then left.
****
The next day, the horn didn’t sound—an unprecedented event.
Xingyuan arched against the pillow, letting out a few “mm” sounds, and only then slowly opened his fawn-like eyes.
Outside, the sky was bright again. Xingyuan tilted his head back, then turned over and crawled forward a bit, the blanket edge landing right on his shoulder blade. His jade-white shoulder was exposed to the air, and this scene happened to be seen by Aisley.
He took a deep breath, shifted his gaze away, and hastily left the tent.
Xingyuan didn’t understand what was going on. He yawned, and only then got up to fold the blanket. After tidying up, Xingyuan again saw the familiar milk cakes on the table.
Xingyuan: … He walked over and counted them—nine in total. Having grown used to eating them, he naturally knew the usual total count of the milk cakes. It seemed Aisley hadn’t eaten a single one.
Xingyuan couldn’t help covering his eyes. The way he was living now really did seem like a rice-worm being kept by the man.
(TL: rice-worm=free-loader)
The little notebook gained another line. [These many days of living as a rice-worm have made me feel deeply guilty, and have also made me realize my own incompetence. I cannot continue being pampered like this—this kind of life leaves me unable to establish my self-respect. After careful consideration, I have made a decision. Sir has shown me kindness; as a rice-worm, I intend to repay him in kind. In the future, should we meet again, I will take full responsibility for arranging Sir’s marriage to a wife—whether it’s the betrothal gifts, the wedding house, or the ring, I will foot the bill at that time.]
After recording this in his account, Xingyuan finally felt much more at ease. Looking at the milk cake, he couldn’t help but pinch off a piece and take a bite.
Once outside the tent, Xingyuan finally understood why today felt so strange.
The army had, at some point, announced the cancellation of training. At this moment, the camp was bustling with people coming and going. Many of the new recruits wore expressions that carried both smiles and worry on their faces. They carried cloth bundles on their backs, walking in a hurry.
Suddenly, one soldier’s cloth bundle came undone, and several pieces of black bread, torn in half, fell out. The soldier hurriedly crouched down to pick the bread back up into his bundle.
Seeing this, Xingyuan fell into thought. At the same time, a few soldiers walked past him, and Xingyuan heard the sound of metal clinking together. The group chatted and laughed as they walked.
“I’ve saved up ten Kaen coins and haven’t been willing to spend them. Once I see my family, I’ll give them all the money.”
“You’re really something. I’ve only managed to save up five so far.”
“Are you guys really going to give away all your money? Not keeping any for yourselves?”
“Ah, what’s there to keep? We’re about to go to war. If you live, you’ll earn more; if you die, there’s nothing to spend it on anyway.”
Xingyuan had been quietly listening, but upon hearing those last few words, his heart gave a jolt. War? In all his years alive, Xingyuan had never seen what war looked like.
Xingyuan had originally felt somewhat tense, but as he passed through the crowd and listened to everyone’s conversations, his heart gradually settled down.
Along with this, he also noticed something. Visiting family.
Most of the new recruits had been recruited from nearby, and many of them had their own families. Some of the veteran soldiers also came from around here, and given this opportunity, they naturally wouldn’t miss the chance to go see their families.
As for the soldiers stationed far away, the army had specially prepared a team of messengers, and had also sent a few literate people to help everyone write letters. By the time Xingyuan passed by, he saw a long line queued up there.
Officers had their own green channel, though of course there were quite a few officers as well—Xingyuan even spotted Fred standing near the back of the line.
Officer. Xingyuan paused. He scanned the line, but never did see the figure he was hoping to see.
Xingyuan tried to work out the timing and realized the man hadn’t left much earlier than him. Although the man walked fast, the line here was long, and even an officer had to properly wait his turn.
Xingyuan looked around for a while, and when he simply couldn’t find the person, he wandered around here and there. He wasn’t sure how long he’d walked, but Xingyuan finally spotted the familiar figure by the riverside.
Xingyuan had left the camp, and the view suddenly opened up before him. Fine grass grew along the riverbank, and the breeze blowing toward him made breathing feel clear and unobstructed.
The man walked along the riverbank, seemingly gazing at nothing in particular. He walked very, very slowly, so slowly that even Xingyuan had no trouble keeping up. Xingyuan walked alongside Aisley, lowering his head to watch Aisley’s footsteps, and began imitating the other’s stride again, just as he had before.
Aisley’s expression relaxed, and in his dim eyes there finally appeared a trace of a smile.
Xingyuan looked up and asked curiously, “Why didn’t you go write a letter?” He spoke in the local language. Hearing this, Aisley glanced at him, the corner of his mouth curling up. He reached out from behind Xingyuan, as if wanting to touch the boy’s head.
Xingyuan’s blue eyes always carried scattered points of starlight, and this made Aisley lower the hand he had raised. Aisley simply found a random patch of ground and sat down. The riverbed was shallow here, the water clear. His gaze seemed to drift nowhere in particular, and he said nothing.
Xingyuan wasn’t foolish. Given the atmosphere, connecting it slightly with the reality of the situation, he could guess at a thing or two. Xingyuan opened his mouth, then closed it. If it had been anyone else here without parents, he would simply have treated it like watching a drama. But this was someone he knew, and someone he had considerable fondness for. Once he put himself in the man’s shoes even a little, it became hard to bear.
Aisley had long since forgotten what sorrow tasted like. Today the corps had a big holiday, and he was merely idle with nothing to do. He watched the boy with interest, seeing the other’s expression turn lively, his head tilting slightly now and then as if thinking about something. Aisley found it quite amusing, and the boy was very pleasant to look at, too.
It was only when the boy’s fawn-like eyes lowered halfway, his face carrying a hint of worry as he leaned closer, that Aisley finally felt rather uneasy. The round, deep-blue eyes faced Aisley’s lightless ones, the two drawing closer and closer, and Aisley’s gaze sharpened. To keep the boy from seeing any shadow reflected in his pupils, Aisley lowered his eyes, but made no other move.
Just as Xingyuan’s forehead was about to touch Aisley’s, a clear voice spoke a line in the Lyteye language.
“If we happen to meet again in the future, and you have nowhere else to go, I can offer you a home.”
Hearing this, Aisley turned his head aside. Smiling, he plucked a tender blade of grass from the ground and held it between his lips, his eyes looking off into the distance.
The whole day was free today, and Aisley wasn’t in a hurry to head back. He simply rolled up his trouser legs and waded down to where the riverbed was deeper, catching a couple of fish. Seeing this, Xingyuan eagerly set about trying to build a fire. In all his years, he had never once eaten a wilderness barbecue.
At first he thought that once Aisley caught the fish, he would fend for himself and grill the fish himself. However, he always tended to overestimate himself—he simply couldn’t get a fire going at all.
In the end, Hua-Rice-worm-Xingyuan could only trail after Aisley, eyes wide with longing, swallowing his saliva as he waited for the fish to finish grilling. While Aisley grilled the fish, Xingyuan grew a bit bored. He shuffled bit by bit closer to Aisley, lowered his head, and began muttering to himself. “I really want to become a general. Even though a lot of people keep putting me down, saying I don’t have the talent for it, I don’t believe them…”
Hearing this, Aisley’s hand trembled. He glanced down at the boy, his eyelid twitching, and couldn’t help turning his head away. Listening to these familiar words, he suddenly recalled something and began to reflect on himself.
Maybe he really didn’t have the talent to be a poet? Maybe what other people said really was the truth?
If Fred ever found out about all this, he would absolutely be stunned.
Others had tried to persuade Aisley for over a decade without success, and yet Xingyuan, with nothing more than a single mutter to himself, had actually managed to make Aisley start reflecting on himself?!