EM 30. History

Zheng Qiyong returned to his desk and resumed reading the reports. Just one wall away, the other two sat quietly in the hallway. Song Feng was curled around Xiao Mingxuan, peeking cautiously through the doorframe. His lips were slightly parted, teeth occasionally catching his lower lip, as though he were wrestling with something inside.

Xiao Mingxuan turned his head. They were very close, so close that even their breath seemed to intertwine, faint and warm. That morning, they had already eliminated half the group. Now, just past noon, sunlight spilled through the corridor, tracing soft golden edges along Song Feng’s profile and outlining his features with a gentle glow.

His heart skipped a little. His gaze lingered on those lips, and for a split second, he felt the urge to lean in and kiss them. It was a sudden impulse, one he had never experienced before. But ever since he had sorted out his own feelings, it was as if something inside him had been unsealed. His self-control had started to slip.

It was dangerous.

He inched away, trying to put some space between them, only to be pulled back again by Song Feng, who resumed using him as cover to peek inside. Xiao Mingxuan watched him glance toward the office again and again, and let out a quiet sigh.

“What?” he asked, “You looking to go in there and get beat up again?”

Song Feng gave a visible shudder and quickly turned back toward him. His pretty eyes shimmered, full of wounded puppy-like grievance.

Xiao Mingxuan’s heart softened. Truthfully, if it weren’t for his own decision, Song Feng would never have been transferred here. He reached over and ruffled his hair, then gently changed the subject. “So? What are you doing here?”

“…Came to get cigarettes,” Song Feng mumbled, curling up tighter where he sat.

Xiao Mingxuan fished a pack from his pocket. Only two sticks left.

Song Feng glanced at it. “That’s not enough.”

Xiao Mingxuan figured that Wei Xiaoyan and the others probably wanted some too. Two really weren’t going to cut it. He patted Song Feng on the head again. “There’s more inside. I’ll grab some after the commander leaves.” Then, seeing how pitiful Song Feng looked, he added considerately, “Why don’t you go back first?”

“No, I’ll wait here.” Song Feng reached out, tugged at the box. “Give me one for now.”

Xiao Mingxuan pulled out a cigarette and handed it over, then lit it for him with a lighter. After a moment of hesitation, he asked, “How did the commander end up training you?”

“He used to serve under my grandfather,” Song Feng sighed. “The three of us brothers don’t go into politics or the military. Whatever we do, it’s just for fun. My grandfather was worried we’d get ourselves in trouble, so he dumped all three of us on him for training.”

Xiao Mingxuan was surprised. “Even Song Zhe? Doesn’t he have OCD?”

Song Feng nodded. “He spent about half his time in the shower, but that didn’t stop him from learning to fight.”

Xiao Mingxuan was even more surprised. “The commander didn’t hit him?” It was hard to imagine the elegant eldest son of the Song family getting beaten up.

“Nope,” Song Feng said bitterly. “The instructor said that aside from his wife and his mom, no man had ever smiled at him that gently in his life. He felt it was something to treasure. He couldn’t bring himself to hit him.”

“You could’ve tried smiling at him too.”

“You think I didn’t?” Song Feng looked even more bitter. “I smiled, and he said, ‘Little brat, why are you smiling at me like that? You in heat or something?’ For fuck’s sake, how am I supposed to smile after that? I’m not blind or a masochist!”

“Then what happened?”

Song Feng took a drag on his cigarette, face full of heartbreak. “He hung me up and beat the crap out of me.”

Xiao Mingxuan gave him a look of sincere sympathy.

Song Feng looked utterly traumatized. “He didn’t hit my brother. My little brother was too young, so he didn’t get it much either. He just wailed on the rest of us. Those days were…”

“Wait,” Xiao Mingxuan interrupted, “the rest of you? Who else?”

“My mentor and a few National Security agents.”

Xiao Mingxuan thought for a moment. “The same mentor who told you to keep your will strong no matter what?”

“Yeah.”

“I always thought he was the one who trained your combat skills. Turns out you were all trained together. Then why do you call him ‘mentor’?”

“I was his trainee when I became a mercenary.”

Xiao Mingxuan narrowed his eyes. “Was he the one who taught you how to flirt with women too?”

“Who said that?” Song Feng lifted his chin. “I’m self-taught, thank you very much. I was already a pro before I ever became a mercenary. Didn’t need anyone to teach me.”

“…”

Song Feng flicked the ash off his cigarette and added, “Actually, my mentor was pretty good with women too. Not worse than me.”

Xiao Mingxuan nodded, thinking the two of them were just made for each other. No wonder it spiraled into chaos.

“But later he settled down. Married a gorgeous wife, even has a kid now.”

Xiao Mingxuan was quiet for a moment. “Being a mercenary is too dangerous. Now that he has a family, he might as well return to China and take a desk job. He’s made enough money anyway.”

Song Feng took a long drag, then exhaled a stream of white smoke. “Yeah. That’s what he told me later.”

Xiao Mingxuan understood. Now that the man had retired, Song Feng had taken over as Wei Xiaoyan’s mentor.

Song Feng finished his cigarette and stubbed it out on the ground. He leaned against Xiao Mingxuan again, still watching the office door, clearly torn between staying and going. Xiao Mingxuan gently patted his head to comfort him. “Once the commander leaves, I’ll go get you some cigarettes.”

Song Feng looked up at him with a pitiful expression. “I want alcohol too.”

“You still have training.”

“Just a little.”

Xiao Mingxuan knew he owed him, so he reached out and ruffled his hair again. “Don’t drink too much.”

“Then…” Song Feng blinked those innocent eyes.

Xiao Mingxuan cut him off. “Forget it. There aren’t any girls.”

Song Feng’s shoulders slumped. He crouched low and began drawing circles on the ground with his cigarette butt.

Xiao Mingxuan kept patting his head, harder each time. He nearly blurted out, If you’re that desperate, I could help relieve you, but before he could say anything, he heard movement by the stairwell. He looked over and saw Wei Xiaoyan and the others creeping cautiously upstairs. The three of them were visibly confused by the sight of their instructor squatting face-to-face with Song Feng, but they quickly snapped to attention and saluted.

“Good evening, sir.”

Xiao Mingxuan nodded. Song Feng blinked. “What are you guys doing here?”

Bai Xuyao stepped up. “We figured smoking in the barracks would cause a riot, so we came to find you. Thought we’d smoke outside and head back after. Where’s the cigarette?”

“I smoked it.”

Bai Xuyao processed this for a second. “You shameless bastard!”

Song Feng got mad. “You calling me shameless? I hauled myself over here—” He didn’t get to finish. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a familiar figure stepping out of the office. He immediately froze. Xiao Mingxuan saw it too and quickly stood up to block him. “Commander.”

The three newcomers stiffened and snapped to attention. “Good evening, sir!”

Zheng Qiyong nodded and looked at their number tags. “You’re trainees? What are you making noise about?”

Song Feng shrank behind Xiao Mingxuan, clutching his pant leg and peeking out with a pitiful expression. “Nothing… we weren’t saying anything…”

“Did I ask you?”

Song Feng instantly ducked his head back.

The three were stunned. They had never seen Song Feng act like this. Wei Xiaoyan, who knew him well, immediately realized this man was no ordinary figure. He saluted again. “Reporting, sir. We were discussing hand-to-hand technique.” He turned to Duan Qing. “Come on. No use talking about it. Let’s spar.”

Duan Qing nodded. He looked to the commander, got a slight nod, and quickly left with Wei Xiaoyan.

Zheng Qiyong turned to the one remaining. Looking at the familiar face, he recalled the file. “You’re Bai Xuyao?”

“Reporting, sir. Yes, I am!”

Zheng Qiyong patted him on the shoulder but said nothing more. He turned and headed back into the office.

Bai Xuyao hesitated for a second, eyes shining, then darted forward. “Sir, can I help you with anything? Would you like some tea? A cigarette? I can light it for you—oof!”

Before he could finish, he was instantly kicked out the door. He crashed down in a heap, twitching, just as a deep voice boomed from inside: “If you’ve got that much energy, go run a hundred laps around the track! And stay the hell out of my sight!”

Song Feng crouched down and sighed with heartfelt sorrow. “Xial Bai, can you seriously not use your brain? You want to latch on to someone, at least pick the right one. Why do you think Xiaoyan bailed just now?”

Bai Xuyao fumed. “Stop calling me Xiao Bai! You’ll jinx me into becoming an actual idiot!”

“Give it up. You already are one,” Song Feng said bluntly. “You really think that hugging his thigh is going to give you free rein to walk all over me from now on? Keep dreaming. If someone’s leg is enough to scare me, it sure as hell isn’t that easy to grab. You’d better learn from your senior.”

Bai Xuyao groaned and picked himself up from the ground. Song Feng pointed down the corridor. “Go. Face the wall and reflect.”

So Bai Xuyao went to do just that.

Xiao Mingxuan had watched the whole thing in silence. Now he crouched down again. “He’s your apprentice?”

“Yeah,” Song Feng sighed. “My mentor always said, if you take on apprentices, you have to take full responsibility. Fucking headache.”

“If you’re his mentor,” Xiao Mingxuan said patiently, “then no matter what, you can’t lay hands on him. Let him go and find yourself another man.”

Song Feng looked puzzled. “I haven’t laid hands on him.”

Xiao Mingxuan blinked. “Didn’t you say before you wanted to ‘spoil him real good’? What did that mean?”

“Discipline him,” Song Feng replied, confused. “What else would I mean?”

Xiao Mingxuan: “…”

Song Feng squinted at him. “You’ve got a dirty mind.”

“…Do you still want that cigarette?”

Song Feng looked sincere. “I was talking about me. Not you.”

“…”

Song Feng was about to say more when he saw someone appear again in the doorway and abruptly choked on his words.

Zheng Qiyong glanced at him. “Why are you still here? Go train.”

“On it…”

Zheng Qiyong nodded and walked off, carrying a file folder as he headed through the corridor toward the rear of the command building. His figure soon disappeared around the corner.

Song Feng hesitated for a second, then said shakily, “Give me that cigarette.”

“What for?”

“For courage.” As he spoke, he reached out to grab it, lit it with shaking hands, and took a drag before getting to his feet.

Xiao Mingxuan was alarmed and grabbed his arm. “Are you insane? You’re going to get yourself chewed out again?”

Song Feng sniffled, struggling a little. “I… I really do need to get chewed out.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t ask.” Song Feng pulled free, took a deep breath, and charged off without looking back.

Xiao Mingxuan stared after him in silence.