The Capital.
National Security Bureau, Police Chief’s Office
Zhang Weiguo looked up, his gaze settling on the silent figure across from him.
Lin Yan, twenty-eight years old.
His features were resolute.
A scar ran diagonally from his brow to his cheekbone.
“Lin Yan enlisted at seventeen, joined the Special Forces at twenty, and has served as Group Leader of the Azure Wolf Special Operations Team since the age of twenty-five.”
“During that time, he received the Third-Class Merit fifteen times, the Second-Class Merit eight times, the First-Class Merit five times, and the First-Class Merit three times.”
“During the operation codenamed ‘Blood Blade,’ he unlawfully killed a squad member, seriously violating international humanitarian law and military rules of engagement. With approval, he has been given the harshest disciplinary punishment: dismissal from military service and compulsory discharge.”
He looked at Lin Yan.
“Lin Yan, do you have anything to say?”
The scar on Lin Yan’s face twitched slightly.
But he merely shook his head.
“Reporting in: I have no objections.”
Zhang Weiguo rose, walked around the broad desk, and stopped in front of Lin Yan.
“I know you’re angry, but you really acted rashly this time. Luo Bin is the Luo Family’s heir, and the Luo Family is one of the Capital’s Three Great Families. They’ve already brought pressure to bear. There’s nothing I can do to protect you.”
Lin Yan’s fist clenched silently at his side, veins standing out.
But in the end, he let it go.
“I understand.”
Zhang Weiguo patted his shoulder, his voice suddenly dropping:
“There’s more to the Luo Family than meets the eye. National Security has been watching them for a year—money laundering, smuggling, espionage… But every time, the chain of evidence breaks before reaching the inner circle. We can’t touch them.”
Lin Yan’s head snapped up.
“I’m not ordering you as Police Chief. You’re no longer a soldier, and you’re not bound by any rules. I need someone to investigate and dig up the evidence for me.”
“Understood.”
Zhang Weiguo nodded.
“Wang Li… Has he been laid to rest?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve spent so many years in the military. Take some time off for yourself.”
Zhang Weiguo paused.
“If anything comes up, remember to call me.”
“All right.”
Lin Yan straightened his back, raised his right hand, and gave Zhang Weiguo one final military salute.
Then he turned.
He opened the door.
And left the office that had decided his fate.
Zhang Weiguo watched Lin Yan’s back disappear at the end of the corridor and sighed deeply.
Then,
long-suppressed anger surged through him.
The Luo Family.
Just to give their heir a bit of prestige,
they had used their connections to force a Young Master who couldn’t even hold a gun steady into Azure Wolf.
It was Huaxia’s sharpest blade.
Its legendary mission-completion rate had remained at one hundred percent to this day.
If he’d been merely incompetent, that would have been one thing.
But he’d been fatally stupid.
A tropical rainforest. A covert mission.
Luo Bin’s accidental gunshot instantly exposed the squad to the enemy’s encirclement.
A hail of bullets. A bloody breakout.
The Azure Wolf Squad was on the verge of tearing open a gap.
But Luo Bin couldn’t keep moving.
Wang Li turned back to save him.
That brief delay was all it took for the two men to be pinned down by the enemy’s web of fire.
By the time Lin Yan fought his way back to rescue them,
Wang Li was already lying in a pool of blood, barely breathing.
“G-Group Leader, my daughter… she’s only five. Back home… p-please…”
Lin Yan held him tightly. His throat felt choked, and all he could do was nod heavily.
“Don’t worry. I’ll find her and raise her as my own daughter.”
Wang Li smiled.
The tough man who had always charged at the front wore a relieved smile at last.
Then his head lolled to the side, and he fell silent forever.
Lin Yan buried his comrade-in-arms with his own hands.
As the earth covered the coffin,
he turned and dragged Luo Bin, who had collapsed on the ground, to the grave.
Then he forced Luo Bin’s head down three times before the brand-new headstone.
A gunshot rang out in the silent cemetery.
Quick and decisive.
Lin Yan knew:
if Luo Bin were allowed to return alive and face a Military Court,
the Luo Family had plenty of ways to make sure he emerged without a scratch.
He had made his choice, and paid the price.
The Luo Family’s fury was only to be expected.
The heir’s life had to be repaid in blood.
But Lin Yan—
his name carried too much weight. Behind him stood a monument forged from thirty-one military merit medals.
Even the Luo Family couldn’t easily topple that mountain.
And so,
“unlawfully killing a squad member” and “violating international humanitarian law”—
procedural justice became the sharpest blade of all.
……
Lin Yan walked out of the National Security Bureau building.
The afternoon sun was a little too bright.
Squinting, he took a photograph from the inner pocket of his jacket.
It showed a little girl with a ponytail, around four or five years old.
Her eyes were big and bright, and she was smiling at the camera with innocent delight.
Her rosy cheeks looked like ripe apples.
On the back of the photo, in crooked handwriting, were words Wang Li had written before he died:
“Panpan, Daddy will be home soon.”
Lin Yan gently ran his thumb over the words, his fingertip coming to rest on the name.
Panpan.
...
...
Jiangcheng
Wang Family Village.
At the home of Wang Li’s younger brother.
In the corner of a pigsty,
a little girl was curled up in a ball.
A rusty iron chain was fastened around her slender ankle.
The other end was driven deep into the wall.
Fresh wounds overlapped old scars on her arms.
A lash mark slashed diagonally across her back, the flesh gaping open.
A bucket of sour, foul slop lay overturned nearby.
Several rats were gnawing at the half-moldy steamed bun scattered on the ground.
Her lips were cracked and her breathing faint. Only the occasional flutter of her eyelashes showed she was still alive.
The pigsty’s battered wooden door was yanked open.
Li Shufen, wrapped in a worn cotton coat, carried a chipped clay basin.
A sour, musty stench mixed with the reek of the pigsty and hit her in the face.
Frowning, she looked at the tiny curled-up figure in the corner.
“You little brat, get up and eat!”
When there was no response,
she kicked her.
The sharp pain jolted Panpan awake from her daze.
Her small body convulsed before she managed to open her swollen eyes.
“A-Auntie…”
“I’m talking to you, you deaf or something? Want another beating?”
Li Shufen planted her hands on her hips, her voice shrill.
Panpan trembled violently. Summoning all her strength, she pushed herself up and swayed to her feet.
The chain around her ankle clattered.
Li Shufen covered her nose in disgust and dumped several black, rock-hard steamed buns from the basin into the mud by the girl’s feet.
“Eat up!”
She turned to leave, but her eyes swept over to the side.
Half a steamed bun, full of holes from rats’ teeth, lay in the dirty straw.
A sudden flare of anger shot through her.
“You ungrateful little wretch! I work my tail off bringing you food every day, and you dare waste it?!”
“N-no…”
Panpan shrank back in terror.
The chain pulled taut, scraping against her festering wound.
“Auntie… it’s… it’s too hard… I can’t bite through it…”
“You dare talk back?!”
Li Shufen glanced toward the door and grabbed the thick, wrist-sized firewood stick leaning beside it.
She swung her arm back, the stick cutting through the air as she brought it down hard on the girl’s frail back!
The stick whistled through the air.
“Ah!”
Panpan let out a short, pained scream and collapsed face-first into the filthy mud.
“It hurts… Auntie, I was wrong! I was wrong!”
She curled into a ball, weeping uncontrollably, and futilely tried to shield herself with her dirty little hands.
“I’ll eat! I’ll eat right now! Please don’t hit me… please…”
The stick was tossed onto the ground, streaked with grime.
Li Shufen panted as she looked at the tiny, trembling figure on the ground, then snorted.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. If you leave any food again, you’ll see what I do to you.”
She spat and walked away.
The rickety wooden door slammed shut and creaked as it swayed.
The pigsty fell quiet.
Only the girl’s stifled sobs remained.
After a long while,
Panpan finally trembled as she pushed herself up bit by bit with hands smeared with mud and blood.
Feeling around, she picked up a hard bun covered in mud and brought it to her mouth.
The moldy smell mixed with the earthy stench flooded her nose and mouth.
She gagged, but didn’t stop.
She swallowed it in tiny bites, one after another.
She knew:
if she didn’t eat now, it would be even harder to chew at night.
After swallowing the last coarse crumb,
Panpan finally pulled a photograph from the innermost part of her clothes, close against her chest.
The corners of the photo were so worn they were almost unrecognizable.
It showed several young people in old-fashioned military uniforms, grinning at the camera.
Her fingertip gently brushed the figure on the far left.
He was a young man with thick brows and bright eyes, his smile radiant.
“Daddy… Panpan hurts so much…”
In the photo,
her young father was still smiling carefree.
Panpan’s tears finally spilled in big drops, falling onto the cold photograph.