EM 43. Xingtian

After training concluded, the seven recruits who passed were officially assigned to the special operations unit under Xiao Mingxuan. While they were publicly labeled as Unit 2, there was already a clear distinction between them and Unit 1. The higher-ups clearly intended to use them for more than standard special forces work, even if everything was still in the experimental phase.

Because of this, the upper levels gave them permission to choose their own designation. The reasoning was simple. If the experiment failed and the group ended up tainted by external influence, any mistakes they made would not reflect on the reputation of the official special forces division. But if it succeeded, they would rise to fame under their own name and, eventually, separate into a fully independent unit.

Xiao Mingxuan had no interest in wasting time on names. He called everyone into the office, explained the situation briefly, and got straight to the point.

“That’s all there is to it. Any ideas?”

It was only now that the team realized they might be handling mercenary work in the future. No wonder they had been asked to carefully consider whether they wanted to stay, and why so many of the missions mentioned had involved foreign operations. Now it made sense.

Bai Xuyao immediately lit up. “Let’s call it the Suicide Squad! Like in those American movies. Explosions everywhere, totally badass!”

Everyone turned to look at him.

They had just finished a loyalty assessment. Everyone was still holding onto their lives like precious cargo. That name wasn’t just tasteless. It hit everyone right where it hurt. Without a word, the group rolled up their sleeves and began beating him senseless.

“Aaaah—Bro! Bro! Help me!”

Song Feng had been crouched off to the side, silently watching Duan Qing and Wei Xiaoyan. The commotion pulled his attention back. He immediately stood up, furious.

“You think you can lay a hand on my apprentice? What the hell is this, mutiny?”

He rushed forward and dragged his little apprentice out from under the dogpile.

“What now?”

Bai Xuyao looked up at him with a face full of injustice.

“I just came up with a name…”

“What name?”

Bai Xuyao blinked. “You didn’t hear it?”

That was strange. Song Feng had spent so long on the front lines that he had long since developed the kind of sixth sense that let him hear and see everything around him. It wasn’t like him to miss something unless his attention had been drawn too sharply elsewhere.

“I knew we were picking a name, but I don’t care what it is. You guys can decide. That’s why I wasn’t listening,” Song Feng said, pinching his cheek. “But how do you manage to get your ass kicked just for naming something?”

“How should I know?” Bai Xuyao rubbed his face. “What were you thinking about just now?”

“Oh, something that shocked me to my core…” Song Feng leaned in and whispered into his ear.

“What?” Bai Xuyao’s jaw dropped. “My senior slept with—mmph—”

Song Feng slapped a hand over his mouth. “Keep your damn voice down!”

Bai Xuyao nodded.

Only after a moment did Song Feng let go. The two of them crouched down in the corner, whispering between themselves as they watched what was happening across the room with laser focus.

Duan Qing stood rigid, his face stiff with tension. While everyone else was caught up in the name discussion, he shifted slightly, turning his back to them, and whispered under his breath.

“I can’t hold out much longer.”

“You’ll have to,” Wei Xiaoyan said. “If Boss finds out I lied to him, with his temper, he might really drug you and make you do it for real.”

Duan Qing froze. After a moment of silence, he asked, “He would actually do that?”

“Pretty likely. Why?”

“No reason.”

Xiao Mingxuan sat with his hands folded, quietly listening to everyone throw out name ideas. Then he noticed someone had been suspiciously quiet. His gaze shifted.

“Song Feng. Got anything to say?”

Song Feng snapped back to attention. He had been crouched on the floor, staring at him. The man was wearing tight camouflage that outlined his upper body in full detail. Song Feng stared for a moment, then blinked.

“What?”

Xiao Mingxuan could tell he was completely out of it and didn’t know why. He crooked a finger.

“Come here.”

Song Feng stood up and walked over. Xiao Mingxuan pulled out the chair beside him and motioned for him to sit down.

“What do you think about this unit? Any opinions?”

Song Feng gave it a moment of thought. “Yeah. We need to change the way we refer to each other. Don’t call people ‘Commander’ or ‘Captain.’ It’s too easy to give things away. The rank structure probably needs to be reworked too.”

Xiao Mingxuan nodded. “We’ll take that one step at a time. Let’s start with how we address each other.”

“Then just go with ‘Boss.’ Simple.”

“That works,” Xiao Mingxuan agreed. “What about a name for the unit?”

Song Feng shrugged. “I don’t care.”

The others had plenty of opinions. Some wanted something fierce, like ‘The Elite Unit.’ Others wanted something bloody. A few wanted something mysterious. The room quickly descended into chaos. Technically, this was still the military, and the final decision was his. But Xiao Mingxuan wasn’t one to exercise that power unless it served a very specific purpose. Outside of those moments, he was actually quite democratic, and he had the patience to listen to everyone.

After checking the time, he remembered the recruits still had training. He didn’t want to waste more of it. Ten minutes passed and still no decision had been made, so he dismissed the room and picked up the report to bring it to the main division.

Zheng Qiyong glanced down. “No name?”

Xiao Mingxuan was completely calm. “None of us are that well-read. We couldn’t come up with anything good. I’ll leave it to you.”

“…”

Zheng Qiyong looked at the blank space on the form. He knew this was just Xiao Mingxuan being lazy. He was about to toss the file back at him and make him finish it, but then, he suddenly pictured Song Feng.

And then he said, “Vermilion Bird.”

Xiao Mingxuan raised an eyebrow. The name had been used so often in novels, TV shows, and films that it was almost overdone. But when he saw the look in Zheng Qiyong’s eyes, he could tell there was something more behind it. He didn’t argue.

“Alright then.” Zheng Qiyong paused for a moment, then picked up his pen and cleanly wrote two characters across the form.

“You’ll be called Xingtian. It represents an unyielding hero. Your insignia will be the fire-marked phoenix.”

Xiao Mingxuan raised his brow again. The name and symbol didn’t seem obviously related.

“The phoenix is a mythical creature that stands for peace and prosperity. I hope your team can become a force that brings blessings to the people. More importantly, the phoenix never dies.” Zheng Qiyong looked up at him. His presence remained steady, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something quiet and hard to put into words.

“No matter how much hardship you face, I want you to rise again. Always come back from the fire.”

Xiao Mingxuan stood at attention and gave a sharp salute. “Understood.”

Zheng Qiyong nodded and motioned for him to go. But just as Xiao Mingxuan turned, he called out again.

“One more thing. That brat may have been your personal pick, but technically, he was my student first. If something ever goes wrong, don’t hesitate to leave him behind. I’ll take care of it.”

Xiao Mingxuan frowned slightly. “What kind of situation are you referring to?”

“For example, disobeying orders. Abandoning the mission to act on his own. If that ever happens, don’t cover for him. Focus on your job. Leave him to me.”

Xiao Mingxuan thought about it. Song Feng might ignore orders, but abandoning a mission? That wasn’t his style.

Still, he nodded. “Understood,” and left the office.

From that day forward, the Xingtian Special Forces Unit was officially formed. The new recruits began undergoing far stricter and more formalized training. They had to master every weapon used by both domestic and foreign forces. Rifles, hand grenades, grenade launchers, small-caliber artillery, anti-tank missiles, single-man rockets, flamethrowers, and other heavy personal weaponry. Some of it, even Song Feng was touching for the first time.

They trained in parachuting, climbing, map reading, encrypted communication, and psychological endurance. The drills never stopped. Time was stretched thin, leaving them with no space to rest. By the time they returned to their rooms, they were so exhausted they barely made it to bed before blacking out.

But Song Feng wasn’t most people.

However tired he was, Song Feng always managed to spare a little time. It wasn’t for rest. It was for watching. His attention never strayed far from three people: Wei Xiaoyan, Duan Qing, and Xiao Mingxuan.

Duan Qing kept his voice low. “How many days has it been? How long is he going to keep staring at us?”

“Until he’s satisfied,” Wei Xiaoyan said with resignation.

“What does that even mean?” Duan Qing groaned. “What would satisfy him?”

Wei Xiaoyan narrowed his eyes but didn’t answer.

Their training covered every vehicle in the field. They had to know how to drive them, how to repair them, and how to handle the weapons they carried. From light motorcycles to heavy tanks, everything was on the table. That day’s focus was tank control.

Bai Xuyao had a real talent for machinery. He lit up at the sight of the tank and couldn’t keep his hands off it. Song Feng was excited too, clambering all over the armored shell.

“Quit messing around and pay attention.” Xiao Mingxuan pulled him down, giving him a curious look. “Didn’t your last unit train you on this?”

“Nope.” Song Feng shrugged. “We only learned stuff that kept us alive. Who the hell needs to drive a tank?”

Xiao Mingxuan nodded, not pressing further.

Bai Xuyao climbed down behind them. “This thing’s awesome. Are we going to learn how to fly a plane too?”

Song Feng glanced at him. “This is the Army special forces. You think being in the Air Force is just for show?” He paused, then added, “That said, I can fly helicopters and small private planes. If there’s ever a chance, I’ll teach you sometime.”

Bai Xuyao looked at him with wide-eyed admiration. “How’d you learn that?”

“No choice,” Song Feng said with a sigh. “Back when I was working as a mercenary, I sometimes had to play bodyguard for drug lords and arms dealers. I ended up around that kind of gear a lot. And what if the pilot got his head blown off mid-flight? You can’t wait around. You just learn how to do it yourself and get the client out of there.”

“Bro, I want to follow you from now on.” Bai Xuyao pounced toward him with excitement, but halfway through, he abruptly stopped. He had noticed someone watching. Without another word, he turned and rushed over to kneel beside the instructor, dutifully pressing on his legs.

“Boss,” he whispered, “I think bro’s been staring at you a lot lately.”

Of course, Xiao Mingxuan had noticed it too. Song Feng had never watched him like this before. Whatever the reason, it put him in a very good mood.

“That’s a good sign,” he said with a nod.

That evening’s training ended early for once. After a short rest and dinner, Xiao Mingxuan called them all together and had Song Feng teach them how to gamble.

Song Feng sat with a cigarette between his lips, shuffling the cards with practiced ease. He had a street-smart air about him, slick and unbothered. Everyone already knew about his mercenary background, and they were always eager to hear more. The questions came nonstop, and the lessons were more useful than anyone expected.

“No weapons? Not a problem. Special forces are trained to operate solo. If you ever get into serious trouble, anything you can grab becomes a weapon. Just remember, never give up on staying alive.”

He smiled, took a drag from his cigarette, and looked at them with that familiar laid-back gaze. His tone was light, but his words hit hard.

“Forget your pride. Forget your face. What matters is staying alive while keeping your principles intact. Sometimes you’ll find that just surviving can be the hardest thing in the world.”

The group nodded one after another. Xiao Mingxuan stood to the side, watching. He loved this about Song Feng. The ease, the freedom, the way he made chaos sound like instinct. He glanced at the time and dismissed the others a little early, hoping to have some time alone with him.

But clearly, Song Feng didn’t pick up on the gesture.

After a quick shower, he glanced at the clock, then turned and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find Xiaoyan.” Song Feng gave a casual wave as he shut the door behind him and vanished down the hall.

Xiao Mingxuan stared at the closed door in silence. After a moment, he turned back to his computer and opened his files.

Meanwhile, Song Feng was sneaking down the corridor, inching his way toward Wei Xiaoyan’s room. He stuck close to the wall, crouched low, and pressed his ear to the door. He had tried this a few times already with no results. He had chalked those up to post-training exhaustion, but today they’d had the afternoon off. By now, everyone should have recovered their energy.

It was late. Most people were asleep. This was the perfect time for the two of them to get down to business. Song Feng gnawed at his fingertip, ear firmly against the wood, and waited.

Then, at last, he heard Wei Xiaoyan’s voice, breathless and trembling.

“Ah… mm, faster… there, yes… feels so good…”

His eyes flew wide. He shot to his feet, kicked the door open, and stormed in.

“Xiaoyan, I came to—”

He froze mid-sentence.

The dorm lights were off, but the light from the hallway spilled across the floor. In that moment, Song Feng could see everything clearly. Wei Xiaoyan was pressed against the wall, pinned by Duan Qing. His body was partially exposed, faint kiss marks still visible on his skin. As the door slammed open, Duan Qing reached for the blanket and yanked it over them. The two of them turned to stare at him in silence.

Song Feng stood there in silence.

“…Right,” he said finally. “Sorry to interrupt. Carry on.”

He turned, even taking the time to close the door behind him.

Wei Xiaoyan waited a few seconds, then jumped down from the bed and cracked the door open. The hallway was empty. He patted his chest with relief.

“I knew it. Boss would never give up unless he saw it with his own eyes.”

Duan Qing was sitting on the bed. He still had his pants on. He exhaled slowly and asked under his breath, “How did you know he was outside?”

“I heard something a few nights ago and figured he was eavesdropping. Since we had the afternoon off today, I guessed he’d come by again. Looks like I was right,” Wei Xiaoyan said. “Someone like him, chasing after danger and excitement the way he does is the type most likely to try it. I’ll find a chance to talk to the boss in the next couple of days. Once that’s done, I might just survive this.”

He clenched his fist, eyes slightly red. “Boss was right. Staying alive really isn’t easy.”

“You never should’ve let this get so complicated in the first place.”

“I didn’t think that far. My brain just short-circuited and I went with it.”

Duan Qing: “..”

—

Song Feng drifted quietly back into his room. Xiao Mingxuan had just come out of the shower, his upper body bare. He didn’t have bulky muscle, but his chest and arms were lean and solid, the kind of strength that was built for endurance and control.

Song Feng blinked, dropped into a crouch, and silently watched him.

Xiao Mingxuan looked down at him. Seeing that familiar, unreadable look return to his face, he crouched beside him and gently patted his head.

“What’s going on with you?”

Song Feng poked at his abs, voice dry. “Nothing.”

Xiao Mingxuan caught his wrist. “You call this nothing?”

Song Feng nodded and kept watching him in silence.

Xiao Mingxuan gave it some thought. He raised an eyebrow. “What is it? Feeling pent-up and thinking about climbing on me?”

Song Feng’s eyes lit up. He reached out immediately.

Before he could speak, Xiao Mingxuan shut it down. “In your dreams.”