Chapter Thirty-Four: A Display of Ability

"Now, imagine yourself standing in the midst of a vast grassland. The sky is a clear blue, clouds drift pure and white, the air around you is fresh and invigorating. Herds of cattle and sheep roam nearby, lush greenery stretches in every direction, and all is brimming with life..."

Inside the cave, a strange and pleasant fragrance filled the air. Linghu Ruomu sat gracefully by the chair, her lips slightly parted as she spoke to Chen Cao in a gentle tone.

A long while passed.

Chen Cao’s eyes were half-closed. His clothes were tattered beyond repair, and his knuckles, white from tension, gradually relaxed under Linghu Ruomu's soft, hypnotic voice. His open palms were stained everywhere with dried blood.

He exhaled slowly, drawing a deep breath before opening his eyes. He looked at his former language teacher, now his closest confidant, his face devoid of any expression.

"Thank you. I feel much better now." Unbothered, Chen Cao used his bloodstained hand to wipe the sweat beading on his brow.

Click, click. As the printer whirred, Linghu Ruomu retrieved the freshly printed sheets, her eyes scanning the dense lines of test data. Two dimples appeared as she smiled, "Your condition is getting increasingly stable. This year’s field missions have done wonders for your willpower."

"Is that so? A year stationed at the border certainly makes a difference. I've witnessed filth most people couldn't imagine in a lifetime."

Chen Cao’s expression remained unreadable. He reached down and picked up the dagger from the ground—a gift from Duan Tianya a year ago, which he had kept on him ever since.

Gazing at the simple, ancient dagger, Chen Cao raised his head and offered Linghu Ruomu a faint smile. "But I still have to thank you. Without your psychological therapy, I don't think I could have escaped the slaughter within my own heart."

Linghu Ruomu replied, "It's only what I ought to do. There's no need to dwell on it. However, my therapy is gradually becoming less important for you. Soon, it may be of no use at all, because your will has grown so strong. You won't need me anymore." Regret tinged her words as she spoke.

Rising from the chair, Chen Cao walked quietly to Linghu Ruomu's side. His arm twitched, as if to pat her shoulder in reassurance, but hovered in midair before falling back.

"Don't worry. You'll always be my best friend. Only you can meet me in dreams, guide me toward that pure, tranquil corner of my soul. No matter where my duties take me, whenever I think of returning and finding you to calm my spirit, I feel hope and longing. Isn't that a good thing?"

Having spoken, Chen Cao gazed toward the light at the cave’s mouth, sinking into thought.

"Truly?" Linghu Ruomu’s wide eyes fixed on Chen Cao, her face brightening with delight. His blood-smeared face, the deep black of his eyes, and those sharply defined features—chiseled as if carved by knife—revealed a transformation. The once brash young student, eager to run from reality, the childish boy, had been reforged through fire and blood. After witnessing life and death too soon, he had become a man of unshakable resolve—a soldier any woman would find herself bewitched by.

"What am I thinking? I'm his teacher!" Linghu Ruomu felt her cheeks flush and quickly turned her face away into the shadows.

"Enough. You should go. Old Duan and the others are still waiting for you," she said, composing herself. Any longer and she feared she might lose control.

"Oh? Another round of comprehensive training, I suppose. How dull. Still, I’m looking forward to seeing Old Duan—it’s been over three months since we last met." As he spoke, Chen Cao was already at the cave entrance.

Watching his strong silhouette, Linghu Ruomu was struck by sudden melancholy. Then, as if recalling something important, she steadied her voice and called out, "Chen Cao, spend more time with Old Duan. He doesn’t have much left."

Chen Cao turned his head. He said nothing, only nodded slightly.

At last, Chen Cao left. Staring at the now-empty cave, Linghu Ruomu murmured with a half-smile, "For a hero to be born, another must fall."

...

Chen Cao moved through the jungle, rifle at the ready.

Not far off, on a hillside, Duan Tianya and Cao Yehou watched him through binoculars, a group of instructors standing behind them. They were all eager to see whether, after this round of field training, Chen Cao would once again display the astonishing prowess of earlier sessions.

Snap! In the thicket, several human-shaped targets fell into view—fierce, villainous faces—clear representations of the enemy.

Rat-tat! Without hesitation, Chen Cao opened fire in bursts, taking down each target with a single shot.

"Excellent! His draw speed and rhythm are much improved since last time!" praised Li Jiali, the shooting instructor.

"Is that all?" Duan Tianya didn’t lower his binoculars, speaking into the headset at his ear, "Release the targets!"

With a rustling sound, a new wave of humanoid targets dropped from the trees, nearly encircling Chen Cao. As they fell, lime-filled rounds—symbolizing live bullets—were also launched. If struck, Chen Cao would be declared dead.

Swiftly, Chen Cao darted among the trees, firing in rotation as he moved. Each target was struck dead center, every one with a bullet to the brow—without exception.

Chen Cao took a moment to steady his breath, silently counting in his mind, "Six down. When the targets dropped, there were seven. That’s right—one is missing. Where is it?" As he considered, he kept up evasive maneuvers, peeking carefully from behind a tree to observe his surroundings.

His eyesight was exceptional; over the past year, it had saved his life on multiple occasions. Yet now, this final target had managed to evade his gaze.

"This one’s well hidden; who set it up?" Cao Yehou wondered aloud.

All the instructors remained silent. Only Duan Tianya’s pale, bloodless face slowly broke into a faint smile.

Meanwhile, a sly grin appeared on Chen Cao’s face as well. He reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a small, furry creature, setting it on the ground with a mutter, "Little one, help me find it. Daddy will reward you when you come back!"

"A rat?" Through the binoculars, Duan Tianya watched the uniformed creature crawl along the ground and said to Shang Liming, "Seems I miscalculated."

"It’s a military rat," Shang Liming corrected with a smile, spreading his hands.

The camouflaged military rat quickly scurried through the underbrush, pausing beneath a tree some thirty meters away. After a purposeful twitch, it darted into the foliage, confident that Chen Cao would see.

The enemy’s position revealed, Chen Cao set down his rifle, drew his pistol, and cocked the slide.

"What’s he doing? Retrieve the targets!" Duan Tianya ordered into his headset—but it was too late. Through the binoculars, they saw Chen Cao, pistol in one hand, inhale deeply, spin, and, with his arm forming a perfect arc, fire in a sweeping semicircle.

Crack! The bullet sped forth.

"Hit, right between the eyes!" reported an aide over Duan Tianya’s headset.

"Curved shooting—he’s mastered it," Li Jiali remarked with a faint smile.

"Release more targets," Duan Tianya said coolly, still peering through his binoculars.

With another rustle, a fresh batch of targets descended. Unlike before, these were not attackers in combat formation, but a row of humanoid targets, drifting to face Chen Cao.

Through their cartoonish features, Chen Cao noticed that among the fierce enemy figures, there were also women and children—hostages.

Without hesitation, Chen Cao aimed his pistol in both hands, firing rapidly. In a flash, the magazine was emptied, and the targets before him were riddled with holes—including the women and children.

No sooner had he finished firing than a child-shaped target sprang up. Without pause, Chen Cao reached behind his waist. With a click, his dagger flashed black and plunged into the “child’s” chest.

He didn’t stop. As the dagger flew, he reloaded his weapon and charged forward, firing three shots into the child target—his actions cold and merciless.

On the hillside, all fell silent.

They had all seen everything clearly.

Duan Tianya and Cao Yehou lowered their binoculars, exchanged a glance, and then Cao Yehou looked around at the assembled instructors. He addressed the senior staff present, "What are your thoughts?"

No one spoke. In their hearts, they all knew—only Cao Yehou could properly assess Chen Cao.

"Very well. Call Chen Cao over," Cao Yehou said, slowly lighting a cigarette.

Duan Tianya’s eyes flickered thoughtfully. It seemed his time had come to step aside.

Soon, Chen Cao jogged up the hill, snapped to attention, and saluted Cao Yehou crisply. "Good day, Principal!"

Cao Yehou returned the salute, then lowered his arm. "At ease, Chen Cao. Explain yourself."

All the instructors watched closely; this was their prized student, after all—he had to make a good case.

"I don’t understand, sir. What exactly should I explain?" Chen Cao replied calmly.

"Just now, even knowing there were hostages, why did you open fire?" A keen edge glinted in Cao Yehou’s eyes.

Chen Cao stood tall. "Sir, if this had been a real mission, and we hesitated out of mercy, we would all have died. On the battlefield, our 0611 unit carries out highly classified tasks, bearing burdens greater than any conventional force. If we’re captured or destroyed, greater losses will befall our comrades. There are no rules in war—only the imperative to preserve our own strength. To save my fellow soldiers’ lives, I must act as I did."

Duan Tianya’s eyelid lifted. "Oh? Then tell me—why did you deal so ruthlessly with the ‘child’ that appeared at the end?"

[End of chapter.]