The office was wide and quiet, filled with the faint smell of tobacco and leather.
Behind a massive oak desk sat a middle-aged general, three silver stars glinting faintly on his shoulders. He pressed the dying cigarette into the ashtray and lifted his sharp, weathered eyes toward the young officer standing rigidly across from him.
The younger man was tall, broad-shouldered, and built like a statue carved from bronze. His skin was sun-darkened, his jawline clean and hard, his expression unreadable.
"Ye Fengwu," the general said, his tone calm but weighted, "this mission won't be easy. You're not going to refuse, are you?"
Ye Fengwu didn't flinch. His voice, deep and powerful, rolled like distant thunder.
"Sir, do I even have that right?"
At that, the general—Luo Tianfei—snorted and allowed a brief grin to break his stern face.
"Cut the crap. You'll do whatever the hell you want anyway."
A grin tugged at the corner of Ye Fengwu's mouth. He reached across the desk, picked up the half-empty pack of military-issue cigarettes, tapped one free, and lit it without asking. Then, as if it were his by right, he slipped the rest into his pocket.
He exhaled a long stream of smoke.
"Why me?" he asked flatly.
Luo Tianfei sighed. "You think I wanted this? You're the only brigadier general in my entire command under the age of twenty-six—the only instructor of the Blood Wolf Special Forces. If this weren't serious, no one up top would be pulling you back into the civilian world."
He paused, then his brows knitted.
"You should understand, Ye Fengwu… out there, you're no longer the war god with a chest full of medals. You're that convicted rapist again."
Ye's lips curved into a careless smile.
"Doesn't matter. I've been an outcast since the day I could walk. Born poor, called a bastard, beaten, laughed at. I didn't rise above it—I sank deeper. Fights, extortion, street gangs—you name it, I did it. Becoming that man again? Easy."
He hesitated, a shadow flickering across his eyes.
"But that life… it also made me do something I can never undo."
He said no more, but his silence carried the weight of old guilt.
A foolish night. Too much alcohol. A crime against his own conscience.
A month later, someone had pulled him out of prison—and forged him into the deadliest soldier in China.
Still, he could never forget. He had never even seen the face of the girl he'd hurt.
He blew another ring of smoke and looked at the general.
"So, Old Luo, I owe you for pulling a street thug like me out of hell. If not for you, I'd still be rotting in a cell."
No one else in the entire army would dare call General Luo Tianfei Old Luo. But Ye Fengwu had earned that right.
Luo Tianfei's family, the Luos of Tiger Gate, wielded immense power. He himself commanded the Blood Wolf Unit—the most elite force in the nation.
Yet now, his eyes darkened.
"Actually," he said quietly, "I wasn't the one who pulled you out of prison."
Ye frowned. "What?"
For eight years, he had believed Luo Tianfei had been his savior. Now, doubt flickered in his mind.
"I've always been curious about your background," Luo continued. "You say you were an orphan—but no ordinary orphan gets placed into Blood Wolf. Someone powerful wanted you there."
Ye's frown deepened. Could his past—and his mysterious benefactor—be connected?
Luo gave a wry smile. "I've dug for years, and your file's a black hole. Maybe you really are a lucky bastard. I can't help you find your past—but I can help you face your guilt."
Ye's eyes narrowed slightly.
"The girl from that night," Luo said, "her name is Qin Qinghan. It happened in Haihua City. She was drugged that night. My guess? So were you."
"Qin Qinghan…" Ye murmured, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. "No wonder she seemed strange. No wonder I… lost control. I didn't even see her face."
"She used to be the pride of her family," Luo said grimly. "Now she's just a broken woman. A corporate executive, raising a daughter alone. She's endured a lot."
Guilt twisted deep in Ye Fengwu's chest. But at the mention of a daughter, he felt a flicker of relief.
"She's married, then? I hope she's found peace."
Luo shook his head. "She gave birth a year after the assault. A baby girl. The family nearly disowned her. You didn't just hurt her, Ye—you destroyed her life."
Ye shot to his feet, the chair scraping violently behind him. His voice cracked like thunder.
"What?!"
He could imagine it—the humiliation, the whispers, the despair of a young woman branded by shame.
Slowly, his face hardened.
"From this day forward," he said, voice like steel, "my life belongs to her… and her daughter."
Luo nodded solemnly. "Then move quickly. She's in trouble. If you're late—you'll regret it forever."
A sharp bang! echoed through the office as Ye's fist slammed down, splintering the solid wood desk.
Two days later, at 7 p.m., the grand ballroom of the Ocean Crown Hotel shimmered with crystal chandeliers and laughter.
Outside, a black Hummer idled near the entrance, smoke curling from the half-open windows. Inside sat four men—tanned, muscular, their eyes sharp as blades.
Ye Fengwu sat in the back seat, silent. He flicked his cigarette butt into the street.
"Tell me everything about the Qin family," he said coldly.
The man in the passenger seat straightened. "Sir, the Qins are one of Haihua's mid-tier business families—not at the top, but they've got influence."
"Today's the seventieth birthday of their patriarch, Qin Guangnan. He plans to marry off his granddaughter, Qin Qinghan, to a man named Zhang Ge—son of a wealthy company chairman. Not as rich as the Qins, but still worth hundreds of millions."
Another man added grimly, "Zhang Ge's a spoiled playboy, sir. Bad reputation. Womanizer. Trash."
Ye's gaze darkened.
"And Qin Qinghan?"
"She's had a rough life, sir," the man said softly. "Her family barely acknowledges her. They've humiliated her for years."
Ye's expression turned glacial. His voice was low, dangerous.
"From this night on, no one lays a finger on my woman again."
He pushed open the door and stepped out.
"Sir, let us go with you!" called the driver, Yang Lu. The other two—Liu Peng and Lin Qiang—leaned forward, ready for orders. All three were Blood Wolf officers, each a colonel in rank, each a living legend in his own right. Yet in front of Ye Fengwu, they stood like loyal soldiers before a god.
Ye shook his head.
"No. Your identities must stay buried. If I need you, I'll call."
Then he walked toward the hotel's glowing entrance, each step steady and silent.
Inside, the banquet was in full swing. Qin Guangnan, dressed in a bright red Tang suit, basked in flattery and wine toasts.
But in the far corner, nearly hidden from sight, sat a small table for four—or rather, three and a half.
A little girl of about six sat there, her dark hair tied into two neat pigtails, her big eyes bright as glass. She was beautiful in a way that seemed almost delicate, like something too perfect for the world.
Beside her sat a young woman—no more than her mid-twenties. Long hair brushed her shoulders. Her casual clothes did little to hide the grace and allure in her every movement. Her beauty was the kind that made men's hearts ache.
She smiled softly at the little girl, eyes full of warmth—but beneath that tenderness lay a deep, unspoken sorrow.