Standing at the edge of the snowy slope, Yin Caixin waited in silence after asking her question. She didn't dare turn her gaze back, yet she casually brushed a lock of golden-brown hair behind her ear with forced nonchalance—subconsciously fearing she wouldn't hear his answer clearly.
*Twice now. He's risked his life to save me twice. There's no way he doesn't like me at least a little bit, right? As long as there's a little bit, a little can always grow into more,* she reasoned.
Knowing full well that Han Qingyu was a dead iron straight man, and guided by her own Western habits of thought and action, the girl had spoken with complete directness. Now, though her heart was fluttering with anxiety, she was also turning over how she ought to explain herself if he didn't understand.
*Laying down your life to take a wife—that can't be wrong.*
Behind her came the crunch of boot soles dragging across the icy snow. Han Qingyu seemed to have turned around.
Yin Caixin didn't turn back. Her heart fluttered with nerves. *Could this really be the start of a romance? What if he hugs me straight from behind—no, wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Would I have to teach him how to hold hands and kiss later on?*
"Of course not," Han Qingyu said calmly behind her.
"Huh?" *Just like that, outright rejected? Without even a shred of hesitation, or a single question needing explanation?*
*Then why did you fight with your life on the line to save me just now? Why fly up from beneath the cliff and nearly die in battle?* Unable to accept it, the stubborn girl whipped around and demanded, "Why? You... you have to give a reason!"
"Because we can't even hold a conversation. We can barely communicate, so how would it ever get to liking? What you just said took me forever to figure out!"
"Which part?"
"'Laying down your life to take a wife.'"
"Isn't that right?"
"At first I thought it wasn't, but on second thought, it probably is." Han Qingyu thought to himself that the meaning was actually quite spot-on; marrying her would indeed cost a man his life. "Anyway, with your command of the language, what the hell would we even chat about? Just going by what you're thinking right now, I can't even tell if you've misunderstood something again."
Yin Caixin: "..."
She had been completely turned down. And for a reason like that? Was that even a valid reason? Why didn't she feel all that heartbroken?
*Forget it. I'd better study Chinese properly first. Study until I'm exceptionally fluent.*
"Oh, whatever you say. I was just saying it off the cuff anyway," she huffed testily, falling silent. *I'm the princess of the Swiss Front right now, okay? Infuriating!*
And so ended the very first direct confession of Han Qingyu's life—one proposing marriage.
At that moment, a ray of morning sunlight broke through the rolling sea of clouds in the distance. The clouds looked dyed in hues of dawn, diffusing soft shades of color as the light gradually brightened.
At last, the sunlight pierced through the cloud deck. Morning light washed over the snowy peak and across the battlefield of the previous night. Bathed in the glow, the bizarre, grotesque form of the black Great Spike mothership no longer appeared so menacing.
Over two thousand Azure warriors, figures who had fought through a night of bloodshed, stood up in the beams of light, scattered at various heights across the summit of the snowy peak.
There were no celebratory cheers of victory, nor the grand, majestic spectacle one might imagine of a forest of long blades and fluttering banners. They simply stood there, scattered amidst the wind and snow atop Xilang Peak.
All that remained were blood-soaked combat uniforms, exhausted faces, relief in weary eyes, wounds, and blades resting against shoulders or clutched in hands. Occasionally, comrades—whether they knew each other or not—would glance over and grin.
The scabs over the cuts on their faces pulled taut with their expressions, making them hiss in pain and grimace through gritted teeth.
This day was August 28, 1991.
Morning had broken; the first light of day unfurled.
Around the same time, in Wan City, retired Old Uncle Liu looked up at the daylight outside his window and nimbly got out of bed, preparing as usual to climb Baiyun Mountain for his morning exercise.
He had heard that military helicopters had visited that place a few months ago, but nothing had changed afterward. Just like Old Uncle Liu's daily morning routine of over a decade, life went on as it always had.
In Yan City, the Guan couple, who ran a small breakfast stall, had already been awake and bustling for hours.
Steam poured from the tiers of bun steamers, the oil vat for frying dough sticks was heated, the wife was wrapping wontons, and the husband was unhinging the shop's wooden shutters to open for business. Regular customers would arrive shortly.
In Yong County, Zhao Minde, a dockworker, was already standing by the roadside waiting for the earliest bus. A towel hung around his neck, ready to wipe away sweat later on. There was a lot of work this month—tiring, yes, but once payday came, it should be just enough to cover his daughter's tuition.
An elderly grandmother had woken up and could no longer sleep, watching the alarm clock and waiting for the moment to wake her grandson for school. In the farmers' market, wet vegetables glistening with water droplets were arranged onto stalls by rough, calloused hands. Handcarts creaked and groaned as they rolled past doorways...
Another calm, ordinary day in this world began, just like any other.
Up on Xilang Peak, the support units and medical teams were finally granted permission to ascend the snowy slope. By this point, the news that the Great Spike mothership had been intercepted could no longer be kept secret. Regardless of whether the front line submitted a direct report, word was steadily rippling through the hidden world behind the scenes.
Soon, the remains of fallen comrades along the path were gathered and carried away, and the bulk of the elite forces began descending the mountain in groups.
Han Qingyu didn't try to act tough and lay quietly on a stretcher.
Strength had yet to return to his limbs. If he tried to walk down the mountain on his own, he would almost certainly roll all the way down.
Wu Xu and Rusty Sister walked on either side of him.
The medics carrying the stretcher drove their spiked soles firmly into the ice, each step crunching audibly, each step taken with utmost caution.
They likely already knew who they were carrying, and what the QG had accomplished last night. It was the slashing of the Red Shoulder upon the icy precipice with the banner across his back; it was a streak of light soaring into the starry night sky, barring the endless heavens with his own body.
Barring any unforeseen developments, the man in their hands would soon receive the first Starlight Azure Medal awarded in over twenty years.
"If people are waiting below to welcome you, can we stop for a moment?" asked one medic who spoke Chinese, likely wanting to know if Han Qingyu's body could hold up.
"If that happens, we take a detour," Han Qingyu answered from the stretcher. Cheers and fanfare were meaningless; only the tangible rewards counted.
Besides, what if they took his things while swarming to welcome him?
As things stood, as long as he went back and played dead, he doubted anyone would dare take his stuff or demand it from him while he was severely injured.
Caught off guard by the response, the medic thought to himself that this was truly a humble hero. After a moment, he said, "Understood."
Suddenly, someone called out from behind, "Hey!"
Han Qingyu pushed himself up halfway and looked back. God Lü, Lü Moyi, stood there, his hairline exposed to the wind, appearing to have receded considerably overnight.
Watching him stirred an inexplicable pang of sympathy and sorrow.
*What is Azure's research division doing all day? Why aren't they looking into this? If there were a way to let super combat powers erupt without paying such a steep price, how much would Azure's overall fighting strength increase?*
"Catch." Lü Moyi raised his hand and tossed over a small piece of metal.
Han Qingyu caught it with one hand. His palm stung slightly. He opened his fingers, looked at it, and turned back once more.
"The Shattered Star Insignia from that Red Shoulder." Lü Moyi smiled wryly and gestured toward Samit and Dietrich, who were standing not far behind him. "It pained our hearts to give it up, but we decided it should go to you."
Dietrich nodded in acknowledgment, a faint smile gracing the German man's sharply chiseled face. A wound stretched across his shoulder down to his chest, his figure appearing exhausted after a night of brutal combat.
Samit looked at Han Qingyu as well, neither speaking nor showing any expression. In his hands, he cradled a pile of shattered iron fragments—the sole remaining relics of Akshay, another super combat power belonging to the Indedu Front. When that strike was unleashed last night, breaching the ship and gravely wounding the small Red Shoulder, Akshay's entire body had fractured and disintegrated, leaving not even a corpse behind.
The three of them could not descend the mountain yet; they had to remain behind to guard the mothership.
Han Qingyu raised his hand and abruptly tossed the Shattered Star Insignia back, aiming it straight at Samit.
Samit caught it instinctively, confusion flickering in his eyes.
"Tell them," Han Qingyu turned to Rusty Sister, "there should be one here that belongs to Lieutenant General Akshay."
Shen Yixiu turned and relayed his words in English.
The stretcher continued its descent down the mountain.
"You little rascal..." Lü Moyi murmured behind them.
Han Qingyu remained lying down without looking back, merely raising his arm. A glint of light flickered in his hand. He still had a second-grade Shattered Star Insignia from the small Red Shoulder. Since he had chopped it off himself, and it was free for the taking, how could he possibly not have picked it up?
Chapter 284