A Pleasure to Meet You

Night, 20:43. The date was late April 1991, near the middle of the third lunar month, and the moon above was nearly full. At Medical Station 101 of the Azure Huaxia Front, the moonlight cast a chill, pale sheen over the warm yellow glow of the courtyard streetlamps. The leaves gleamed bright, and the concrete ground showed in crisp detail. The crisp patter of footsteps drifted through the largely quiet night air. Amid the shadows cast by the courtyard trees, the silent silhouettes of defense squad soldiers sprinted past—more than one. To an outsider, there might have seemed nothing unusual about this. But to the wounded soldiers in the inpatient building, having just come off the front lines... they were all too familiar with it. "Looks like a Great Spike landed nearby." In the dark of the night, a flicker of excitement and restlessness began to spread. Many wounded who had intended to turn in early—whether fresh from the front line or having stayed at the medical station for some time—now found themselves entirely unable to sleep. Scenes of battles they had personally fought surfaced with vivid clarity. Inside their ward lockers, their source energy apparatuses and blades seemed to be calling out to their owners as well. The footsteps receded into the distance... The defense squad had assembled. Beyond standard security forces, Azure medical stations were always garrisoned with a defense squad. On one hand, this bolstered the station's defenses; on the other, they could sortie when necessary to eliminate shuttle-shaped craft that made landfall in the surrounding vicinity. Normally, they rarely received missions, because early warnings from the Rejecters were usually prompt, and squads garrisoned in the perimeter typically had plenty of time to arrive. Over the past year and more, however, the defense situation had steadily deteriorated. Instances where shuttle-shaped craft slipped off radar at high altitudes and were only reacquired at low altitudes had grown increasingly frequent... As a result, emergency sorties by medical station defense squads had gradually ceased to be such a rarity. In the inpatient duty room, the doctors and nurses had just finished their rounds. Exhausted, they sat or leaned against the desks, chatting. They happened to mention Han Qingyu and his group, who had left today. Mu Xiaolan was leaning against the window, looking out at the moon. Her back was turned as she idly bantered with her colleagues, when she suddenly glanced over and noticed that Ward 406—where she had personally switched off the lights earlier—was lit up again. Could something be wrong with Sister Ran? Worried, she promptly left the duty room, jogged up the stairs to the door of the ward, knocked, and pushed it open. On the white hospital bed, Ran Qiuling sat in a patient gown, head bowed. Hearing the sound, she looked up and offered a bright smile. Her dead iron straight sword lay horizontally on the bedside cabinet, while she held her source energy apparatus in her hands, gently wiping it down with a handkerchief. Relieved that it wasn't a health issue, Mu Xiaolan smiled and asked, "Sister Ran, why did you pull your gear out all of a sudden?" "Haven't used it in a while." Ran Qiuling didn't mention that seeing the defense squad mobilize had stirred her longing for the battlefield and her comrades, prompting her to take out her gear to look at it and wipe it down. Instead, she asked, "I should be fully recovered soon, right?" Her eyes were filled with eager yearning. "Soon, very soon. Just over a month," Mu Xiaolan said soothingly. She had seen countless Azure soldiers yearning day and night to return to the front line—especially captains and squad leaders, who grew even more impatient. In truth, this was already remarkably fast. If not for a body reshaped by years of source energy, how could someone with Ran Qiuling's severe injuries recover in mere months? Seeing that Sister Ran likely wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, Mu Xiaolan pulled up a stool and sat down, keeping her company and chatting while watching her clean the apparatus. "Just now in the duty room, we were talking about Han Qingyu and the others," Mu Xiaolan said, bringing up a topic. "Oh? Doing a performance review on my little brother?" Ran Qiuling looked up with a heartfelt laugh. "He was alright in the end, wasn't he? Don't tell me he was still cold to you all?" "No, he was friendly," Mu Xiaolan affirmed with a nod. "Probably because he's truly terrified of you, Sister Ran. Afterward, when we gave him snacks, he'd accept them, and when we asked him to join in games, he agreed too. He smiled a lot... Even if he looked awkward and unaccustomed to it, it was really amusing." "Oh, that's all?" Ran Qiuling set down the apparatus and shifted a bit closer. "Nothing else... No sparks flying with any of our doctors or nurses?" "None at all! Not even a tiny spark," Mu Xiaolan said with a giggle, shaking her head. "..." Ran Qiuling let out a disappointed sigh, then couldn't help laughing too. The two went on to chat about Wen Jifei, Liu Shiheng... and various other trivial matters. Once Ran Qiuling finished wiping down her apparatus and sword, leaving them at her bedside rather than putting them away, she remembered another familiar nurse and casually asked: "Where's Honghong? How come I haven't seen her tonight?" "Her? She's in the operating room." Mu Xiaolan glanced out at the moonlight beyond the window. "Several batches of wounded arrived during the day today, so there are multiple surgeries tonight. She's assisting in the OR... It'll probably last until the early hours of the morning." On this night at Medical Station 101... In the wards, the wounded polished their gear. In the duty room, the doctors and nurses chatted. In the operating rooms, rows of surgical lights burned bright. Fully equipped, the defense squad plunged into the mountain forests. ... On this same night, in a small county town on the fringe of the Hengduan Mountains. Though old, the He clan compound was expansive—likely an estate inherited from some prominent lineage. Decked out in lanterns and colored festoons, it wore the disguise of hosting a family wedding. The main hall was spacious and open. Three to five meters in from the main entrance stood a freestanding wooden partition wall. Red silks hung across the partition's wooden surface as well. The time reached 20:46 and 47 seconds. Outside the partition. Han Qingyu's twin blades were still slung over his shoulders. His apparatus was in standby mode as he stood facing the wall. Less than half a meter behind him stood the utterly silent Wu Xu. Pang Jinghe was speaking in hushed tones. "Do you know why I drove past you on the road today, only to turn right back around? Because when I saw you brothers back then, I felt an instant bond between us..." "Is that so? Same here," Han Qingyu replied without turning around. "Hahaha..." Pang Jinghe chuckled happily at his reply. Behind the wall. The people remaining from the seven clans had all risen to their feet by now, feeling nervous yet expectant. As things stood, the main fighting force of their clans—a full three hundred men—was already near Azure's Medical Station 101... So if they truly obtained intel on Han Qingyu, could it be that they were supposed to go after him?! Exchanging glances, they felt a pang of trepidation. Yet what choice did they have? The situation before them was obvious: Mr. Stan was intensely interested... And by all accounts, Mr. Stan's personal combat prowess was extraordinarily formidable as well. Snow Lotus had paid such a heavy price in personnel, resources, and funds to arrange this operation; they naturally wanted to haul in as much as possible with a single cast of the net. In their sight, Stan had walked up to about five meters from the partition wall. Pausing slightly, he spoke once more: "Where is he?" A voice outside the wall answered, "Right..." At that moment, everyone strained their ears to listen. Bang! That was what they heard. At 20:46 and 58 seconds, an explosive crash suddenly erupted. The wooden partition shattered, wood splinters and debris bursting through the air. "...here." "Right here." A single sentence split in two by a brief pause. And as the words landed, a figure blasted through the wall. Pang Jinghe froze in bewilderment. The people behind the wall froze in shock. Whoosh! Stan reacted with extreme speed. Digging his heel into the floor, he surged backward in retreat while drawing his blade. Unfortunately, the hurtling figure was faster. Boom! The frontal downward slash slammed into the iron blade Stan raised in defense. In an instant, the collision of two surging tides of source energy crashed together like colossal waves. The strike knocked Stan off his feet, sending him hurtling backward through the air. "..." At that moment, someone spotted it, but no one had time to shout a warning. A combat blade tracing an arc was already waiting for him along his trajectory. Rusty Sister Dimple Slash was now silent—a silent arc. And yet—clang! To everyone's shock, even while airborne, Stan actually managed to react. He hurled his blade backward with all his might, deflecting the flying Azure combat blade slightly off course. Immediately afterward, his body grazed past the redirected edge. Stan was formidable indeed. The next instant—slam! Stan crashed into the back wall and dropped to the ground, preparing to fight again. Yet there was no time. A streak of flowing light was already right before him. As the light converged— A figure stood there, holding a straight sword pressed against Stan's throat. The tip had pierced just enough to draw a gush of fresh blood. 20:47 and 01 seconds—just three seconds after the partition wall had shattered. The scene inside the He clan's main hall: Stan stood pinned against the wall, neck tilted back, blood trickling down his throat. Han Qingyu stood before him, dead iron straight sword in hand. Everyone in the hall had activated their apparatuses and drawn their weapons. Yet a lone figure, holding a black spear horizontally, barred their way, standing between them and the two figures by the wall. Pang Jinghe was still standing outside the partition wall, staring blankly through the jagged breach, mouth agape, utterly dumbfounded... his mind in complete chaos. "Y-You..." Finally, someone found their voice, trailing off halfway through the question. "Me?" The youth holding the blade against the wall slowly turned his head. "Azure, Han Qingyu... A pleasure to meet you."