EM Chapter 20. Tied By Blood

Song Feng didn’t go to the hospital. His eldest brother had a genius doctor under him whose skills easily eclipsed those of the top specialists in any of Beijing’s major hospitals. So, Song Feng was brought back to the family estate and laid on the big bed he hadn’t slept in for ages, clutching the dog he hadn’t seen in just as long. The two of them trembled and whimpered pitifully under the torment of Song Zhe’s loving tyranny.

Xiao Mingxuan sat face-to-face with the General for nearly two hours. At last, his father exhaled deeply and gave in.
“You’ve made it just in time. It starts in three days. I know the commander there. We’ve got history. Slipping someone in last minute won’t be a problem.”

Xiao Mingxuan stood up straight and saluted, then turned and left. He made brief preparations, and three days later boarded a helicopter with a few others. They landed deep in the mountains. The two bars and two stars on his shoulders stunned the gathered men.

All of them were elite soldiers selected from across various units. None of them knew the real purpose of this training. But Xiao Mingxuan knew better than anyone. To ordinary soldiers, the special forces had always been a mysterious and formidable presence, rumored to be capable of anything, anywhere. The training they endured was brutal to the point of being inhuman. And now, he was walking into it.

He stood at the entrance of the training camp, lifting his eyes to the endless layers of green peaks. He had no idea which direction Beijing even lay in. Drawing a breath, he turned and stepped inside without hesitation.

They were led to a temporary barracks and each given a cot and a numbered badge. From now on, there would be no names, no ranks. Only code numbers. He looked down at his own. Number 29.

Meanwhile, Song Feng was curled up in bed petting his dog. “Xingan, do you think my big brother is going to let me off easy?”

“Woof!”

Tears streamed down Song Feng’s face. “So you also think he’s going to kill me, huh…”

“Woof!”

The door clicked open. Song Zhe walked in with a smile. Xingan immediately jumped off the bed and shrank into the corner, chubby paws clutched over its head, trying its best to play dead. Song Zhe glanced over and said gently, “No wonder you raised it from a pup. Its personality really is just like yours.”

Song Feng silently poked his head out from under the blanket.

At four in the morning, a sharp alarm for emergency assembly pierced the air. Xiao Mingxuan’s eyes snapped open. He jumped up, dressed quickly, slung on the twenty-kilogram pack issued the day before, and rushed outside to line up. The instructor checked the time.

“Anyone who takes more than a minute to assemble a week from now can pack up and get out.”

He didn’t bother looking at their expressions. He Hopped onto a jeep and gave a curt order.

“Follow.”

The driver started the engine and drove off. The group hesitated for only half a second before breaking into a sprint. Xiao Mingxuan glanced up. The mountain trail twisted upward, winding at least fifteen kilometers. He adjusted his breathing, kept a steady rhythm, and merged into the group.

Though he had spent two years playing the drug lord, he had stuck to a strict morning run routine. Turned out it had been the right call. Even so, with twenty kilos on his back, he nearly coughed up a lung by the time he made it. He felt like if he so much as opened his mouth, he might puke his entire stomach out.

By the time he reached the summit, his entire body was soaked in sweat. In the distance, the rising sun was breaking through the clouds, painting the sky red and gold. He gasped for air, eyes catching the vivid blaze stretching across the horizon.

Song Feng had been confined for a full month. The doctor’s skills were exceptional. Hs shoulder had nearly healed, and the bullet wound in his chest was also recovering steadily. Though he was still wrapped in bandages, he saw no reason he couldn’t go out and get some fun.. His older brother, however, clearly disagreed.

“Big Brother,” he blinked his eyes, all pitiful, staring up at him, “why aren’t you doing business anymore?”

Song Zhe was brewing tea, his eyes looking even gentler behind the swirling steam. “I told you, I’m free these days.”

Song Feng crouched on the ground, clinging to the edge of the tea table with both hands. “If you don’t work, how are you going to make money? And if you don’t make money, how are you going to support the family? You’re the eldest son, for god’s sake.”

Song Zhe sipped his tea, voice calm and gentle. “What I’ve made so far is enough to feed you for several lifetimes. That’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“Then… then…” Song Feng stretched out his claws, racking his brain for a more convincing excuse.

Song Zhe glanced over, still wearing that soft smile. “Honestly, I’ve always thought being in heat all the time isn’t healthy. How about we take you to the vet sometime and get you snipped?”

Song Feng recoiled in horror, scrambling nearly two meters back as if he’d been electrocuted. The moment he met that gentle, clear-eyed gaze, he scrambled back into the house on all fours.

Xiao Mingxuan had to admit the rumors were true. Those first few days really were hell.

Becoming a special forces soldier meant mastering the basics of physical endurance. In addition to the weighted morning runs, they had to complete 150 reps with fifteen-kilogram dumbbells, 100 pulls on a resistance band, and 100 strikes with a power bar. The training camp featured a thirty-meter suspended barbed wire crawl where they had to go back and forth three hundred times each day. Their elbows and knees were scraped raw against the rough ground, blood soaking through their camouflage and leaving dark stains. The instructor stood nearby, silently evaluating them and assigning fair scores based on just that morning’s workload.

Right after noon, they lined up neatly on the field under the scorching sun. Each of them held a Type 81 assault rifle in front of them, arms stretched straight, with a brick tied to the muzzle by rope. They had to stand there like statues for two hours. Sweat drenched the hair on their foreheads, dripped down their cheeks to their chins, and then fell onto their stiff wrists before vanishing into the ground below.

The training was endless. They had to complete an 800-meter obstacle course in under four minutes, do 100 pushups in one minute, and practice tumbling and hand-to-hand combat. They lined up and leapt backward one and a half meters into the air, then slammed their backs hard into the concrete with a loud thud. After dinner, they had only thirty minutes to rest before they resumed running with weight. Every few days, there was also a fully armed swim, covering five kilometers in a single breath.

At first, the air was filled with curses and groans. But as the mechanical repetitions wore on, they grew numb. Every one of them had been a standout in their original units. No one wanted to disgrace their old team. They grumbled, but they still pushed forward with stubborn resolve. Some quit halfway. Some stayed.

They believed that if they endured, they would see victory. But half a month later, the instructor stood in front of them, gave a brief assessment, and eliminated the ones who failed. He then looked at those still standing and gave a nod.

“The captain said there are too many of you. Told me to find a way to throw half out. I’ve done that now. So, comrades, from today on, the real training begins.”

In that moment, every one of them fell silent.

A barrage of brutal training followed. During a two-day, one-night survival exercise, Xiao Mingxuan had terrible luck. He fell into a ravine five or six meters deep and briefly lost consciousness. The area was completely uninhabited, pure wilderness in every direction. A deep gash, nearly twenty centimeters long, had torn open his thigh, and blood was pouring out. When he regained consciousness, he had no idea how much time had passed.

He thought he might miss the deadline and get eliminated.

He went quiet for a moment, then gritted his teeth and dragged himself out of the ravine. Several times along the way, he thought he had reached his absolute limit, that he could collapse at any second. But if he fell here, everything he had endured before would have been for nothing.

In the end, he forced himself to the gathering point with his last ounce of strength. As soon as he arrived, he dropped to the ground and gasped for breath. The head instructor this time was the same team leader from the previous mission. He glanced at the time and said, “You were this close to being disqualified.”

Xiao Mingxuan gave a quiet laugh. “Close, but not out.”

The man fell silent for a moment, then finally voiced the question that had been bothering him. “Why did you come here?” He knew something about this man’s background. Xiao Mingxuan was a full colonel. Why suffer through this?

Xiao Mingxuan was told to get his wounds treated. He got to his feet and limped past the instructor, speaking quietly.

“So that person never falls in front of me again.”

The instructor stiffened, staring after his limping figure as it disappeared into the distance.

Song Feng had been cooped up for another half a month. Hugging Xingan, he shuffled downstairs. Song Zhe was reading the paper on the couch and didn’t even look up. “Where are you going?”

“To… walk the dog…”

“Is that so?” Song Zhe looked over with an unusually gentle smile. Xingan instantly bolted back upstairs and disappeared without a trace.

Song Feng stood frozen.

“Seems like it doesn’t want to go out.”

Song Feng trudged upstairs, shoulders twitching with every step. Minutes later, a scream rang out from the courtyard. Song Zhe folded his newspaper and walked outside, stopping beside a two-meter-deep pit, smiling pleasantly. Song Feng clutched his chest and shouted in fury, “Why the hell is there a pit under my window? And why the hell is it covered with sod? That’s just evil!”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No…”

Song Zhe’s expression was downright gentle. “Does it hurt?”

Song Feng choked back a sob. “It hurts.”

Song Zhe nodded. “That means you’re not fully recovered yet.” He turned to his men. “Take him back upstairs and make sure he rests properly.”

“Yes, sir.”

Song Feng was carried away, arms and legs flailing. Once inside, his rage boiled over. “I have physical needs, okay? You think everyone’s some abstinent neat freak like you?”

Song Zhe smiled calmly. “I was going to let you out in half a month.”

Song Feng froze for a second, then dove forward. Since his big brother had a germ phobia, he couldn’t cling to his leg, so he just wailed, “Big Brother, I was wrong, I really was wrong, please forgive me, don’t lock me up again!”

Xiao Mingxuan passed selection and began the next stage of even harsher training. He was expected to hit a human-shaped target two hundred meters away from a moving vehicle at fifty kilometers per hour. He had to throw a grenade from thirty meters out and land it cleanly through the window of a car. At night, he parachuted from a helicopter into water, swimming to shore with full gear on his back. The weather had turned cold, and the river was icy, seeping into the wounds that hadn’t yet closed. Every stroke sent waves of pain straight into his bones.

Later, he was locked in a windowless steel room. Inside was a single toilet like the ones used in prisons. No bed, nothing else. He ate, drank, and relieved himself all in that space. It was quiet. So quiet he could hear a pin drop. At first, he sat calmly. Then he grew restless, knocking and tapping to make noise. Later he fell silent again. Time stopped making sense. He didn’t know how long he’d been locked in there. Sometimes he slept, but every time he opened his eyes it felt like no time had passed at all.

In the end, he couldn’t take it anymore. He curled up in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, and started thinking of Song Feng.

Even though they had done the most intimate things, he still wasn’t sure what his feelings truly were. Song Feng was unlike anyone else. Aside from the Myanmar mission, that man had saved him twice. Once in an incomparably strong posture, and once while collapsing in front of him.

His life had been bought with that man’s. He knew he would never be able to erase him from memory. Song Feng had already merged with his life, woven into every breath he took.

Tied by blood. Anchored in flesh.