Xingyuan, though pampered since childhood, had a temperament that was unexpectedly tougher than most people’s.
Smoke and fire rose on all sides, and although the higher-ups hadn’t said anything, everyone still sensed a thick pressure closing in.
The upper levels issued order after order, and the army’s training grew ever more tense and severe.
It was hard to imagine — a young master who had soaked in a honey jar since childhood was now carrying heavy loads back and forth under the scorching sun. Xingyuan’s waist ached badly; the suffering he’d endured during this period exceeded, even multiplied by ten, everything he’d suffered in his eighteen years of life combined.
He wasn’t young anymore either — many of the soldiers around his age already had children. But as a classmate who had grown up in an environment equal to his in another space-time, those people back there were still just called children, still students under all kinds of protection.
Not to mention having seen blood or all sorts of filthy scenes — many people were even afraid of getting a shot, thinking it would hurt.
It had to be said, the young master had grown a great deal; he was even tougher than many adults in the stellar realm.
..
The leadership held meetings every day.
Every time a meeting ended, the officer in charge of training would always come back with a dark, serious face and increase the intensity for the soldiers.
Xingyuan was trained until he wilted. He gritted his teeth, clutched his waist, and limped back to his tent.
That night, after Xingyuan had cleaned himself up, he accidentally knocked his waist against the corner of the table. His eyes screwed shut, pain showing on his face.
Under the covers, Xingyuan rubbed his waist, whimpering, faint groans escaping his mouth now and then. He hugged the blanket, and drowsiness made him mutter drowsily.
“The officer’s been so fierce these past two days. He said the higher-ups are giving him a hard time, so he’s giving us a hard time too. So the training load’s been really heavy these past two days, I’m so tired… my waist hurts so much…”
Xingyuan’s eyelashes were very pretty. Aisley stood not far away, looking at the young man’s face — on the surface he seemed rather interested, but in truth his eyes were deep and unreadable, giving away no emotion at all.
After a while, he let out a laugh and shook his head helplessly.
The next day, the training officer was called away by the man at the very top.
Under the bright, clear sky, Aisley dangled a cloth bundle containing milk cake from his little finger, a blade of grass held between his teeth as he looked toward a distant mountain ridge, his tone neither light nor heavy.
“Training should be intensified, but that doesn’t mean disregarding everything and working people to death. Everything must be handled reasonably — don’t make me disappointed in your conduct.”
The training officer seemed lost in thought. After returning, he spent time mulling over the meaning of those words, and by the time training resumed, he pointed at everyone and said sternly.
“Today the Legion Commander scolded me again. He’s very displeased with some of my actions. So, I’m adding one more rule: from today on, everyone must snap to attention the moment they see the Legion Commander — you must absolutely not let him find fault with you. If anyone provokes his displeasure, I will show no mercy!”
The soldiers groaned in complaint, but helpless as they were — being the lowest rung — they didn’t dare show the slightest dissatisfaction. They could only grumble about the training officer and the Legion Commander in private.
Xingyuan was once again trained until his bones felt like they’d fall apart. He went back and collapsed onto his bedding, dazed.
Under Aisley’s worried gaze, Xingyuan said faintly, “Everyone’s really playing this game, huh — the Legion Commander pressures him, he pressures us, but I’m just a nobody, what can I do? Who’s going to listen to me? Ngh…”
Xingyuan buried his head in the blanket, pain on his face. “It hurts so much…”
His waist arched slightly, and he let out a hiss.
Aisley’s brows knitted, even more helpless than before. Seeing the young man tossing and turning in discomfort, he threw on his coat and walked out.
The training officer got scolded again.
After several cycles, the mood in the army did improve somewhat, and the training was no longer so brutal, though the intensity had still increased quite a bit.
Ever since Xingyuan’s unexpected pleasant surprise during his last physical examination, Yue Xi had specially set up a rank-detection device at home — an enhanced, premium version, priced more than ten times higher than other detection devices.
Every time Xingyuan came back, he’d test himself. Although the changes weren’t very large, seeing the progress bar move made him happier than if he’d earned ten billion.
In just a few short months, Xingyuan’s progress bar had increased by one-in-a-thousand percent — that is, ten percent. The enormous change left Xingyuan endlessly excited, and he became even more devoted to everything related to the Star-Scrying Device.
At dawn, Aisley rose very early. Outside the tent came scattered, sparse sounds, as if everyone was tidying something up.
Aisley picked up a small knife and carved a fifth mark into the wood, his gaze distant, no telling what he was thinking.
A moment later, he gripped the knife tightly, veins standing out on his wrist, and closed his eyes.
Time to set out. What if that kid followed him to the battlefield…
He pressed his lips together, and his eyes slowly opened, sharp light flickering within them.
He couldn’t possibly delay military affairs.
The young man’s vivid expressions flashed before his eyes like a spinning lantern, and Aisley’s gaze wavered.
The next moment, a mountain made up of countless ordinary people pressed down on his heart. Aisley took a deep breath, gripped the sword at his waist, and rose, walking out of the tent with heavy steps.
He didn’t want to linger too long in place. Fortunately there was some distance to the battlefield — he hoped the young man wouldn’t follow.
The army’s morale surged like a rising tide, marching across the cracked earth like a long dragon, a magnificent and sweeping sight.
By the time Xingyuan hurried over again, the place was empty — the army had clearly already left. He was startled for a moment, but quickly understood.
He’d already known the army was going to fight; from the look of things, the war had already begun.
Xingyuan’s eyes lit with an eager gleam. He pulled out a sword from who knows where and walked toward the direction of the red dot.
The two places were indeed quite far apart, but walking through the night should get him there.
This was the first time Xingyuan had ever seen war — he felt both anticipation and anxiety.
Which general hadn’t fought his way out of the battlefield? Xingyuan longed to be transformed on the battlefield.
He suppressed his excited emotions and crossed several mountain ridges in succession, the faint sound of fighting drifting to his ears.
He heard people’s shouts and cries of pain, cold weapons clashing violently against each other…
The closer he got to the battlefield, the lower Xingyuan’s sense of joy became — he didn’t seem to feel the delight and yearning he’d imagined.
Blood covered the ground everywhere; he didn’t even dare cling to the fantasy that it was animal blood.
On such a fierce battlefield, what else could it be but human blood?
Gradually, he saw countless bodies lying on the ground, lifeless and cold. He saw countless severed limbs and arms; he even saw a soldier who had trained alongside him not long ago.
Xingyuan’s heart clenched in pain; the deep knife wounds on the corpses tore at his nerves.
The protective shield that had been built around the young master like a greenhouse seemed to have been torn open — the cold wind outside rushed in, and the young master, still hopelessly weak, crouched down and began to cry aloud.
Though the weather was scorching, Xingyuan felt cold all over. Tears dripped from his chin as he walked toward the red dot, sword in hand, his emotions out of control.
Gradually, he finally saw living people, but the scene before him tormented him even more than the cold corpses had. Such deep gashes cut into people around his own age; countless people’s eyes were torn wide with rage, blood splattering everywhere.
Xingyuan got sprayed with blood across the face — it was warm, somewhat sticky. His deer-like eyes flew open, his eye rims turning red.
He couldn’t change the course of this world, but this world could affect him.
Even though Xingyuan had undergone training, faced with the dense crowd, it felt as though his hands and feet had been seized.
The first knife wound landed on his body. Xingyuan’s mind went blank, and by the time he reacted, it was a pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
He opened his mouth, his nerves numb, as though he’d forgotten how to walk.
Xingyuan’s body swayed, and another blade struck him. “Ngh, ah…” Xingyuan cried out in unbearable pain, his voice trembling.
He wanted to dodge, but with blades everywhere, where could he possibly hide?
His eyes grew emptier and emptier as he staggered his body, trying his best to dodge.
The red dot was clearly not far off, yet at that moment he was straining with all his strength to get farther away from it. He didn’t know why — he simply didn’t want that person to see him.
As if by some unseen connection, Aisley, covered in wounds all over his body, glanced in one direction.
He caught a glimpse of his young man, covered in blood from head to toe, eyes hollow beneath the crowd’s blades, that once-clean face now smeared entirely with blood.
Aisley felt a cold wind drill straight into his bones.
The young man opened his mouth; amid the accidental blows from the crowd, his wounds grew more numerous, his brows furrowed as his lips kept murmuring something.
That child had always been thin.
A cool breeze swept past, and that slight, thin figure seemed unable to hold up any longer, collapsing into a pool of blood, the crimson stain growing ever more glaring.
He finally managed to make out what the young man was saying.
“It hurts… it hurts so much… I’m hurting so much…”
Aisley’s heart felt as though it were being torn apart.
The young man’s body curled up, sobbing in agony. What was even more despairing was that the crying grew fainter and fainter, gradually weakening, and in those deep blue eyes the starlight of days past faded away, leaving nothing but emptiness that could find nothing at all.
Aisley’s mind went blank, his body losing all sensation.
This dreamlike scene played out before his eyes; his body convulsed, and he felt as though someone had shoved him.
“Move, quick, there’s no time!” someone shouted, heart-rending and desperate. “So many brothers are already gone — if we’re any slower, more will die!”
“We have to hurry, we can’t waste a single second! They’re gone, everyone’s gone…” someone said, unable to hold back, breaking down in tears on the spot.
Aisley’s hand froze, his eyes bloodshot. The young man’s figure gradually turned to nothingness, dissolving into scattered points of light.
Aisley opened his mouth, his head splitting with pain; he, who had always been fearless, finally had reddened eyes.
He trembled, and a single tear rolled down, falling onto the battlefield, like dust of the universe, unnoticed by anyone.
The scattered points of light gradually faded away. Facing the countless multitudes behind him, Aisley tore his one and only love alive from the depths of his own heart; his eyes burning red, he gave up his last chance to ever touch that person again.
There was no longer a trace of joy or anger left in his heart; that back of his, always held so straight, now seemed pressed down by a great mountain, unable to rise again.
Beneath the weight of family and nation, how could there be room for private feelings?
He had never wanted for much — he had only wanted to let that person, under the shelter of his wings, take a wife, have children, and live out a happy life…
He had shielded the storm with his own body, borne peace upon his own shoulders — but under that peace, why couldn’t there be room for just one more person he cared for?