Naturally, no reporters dared come to disturb the war zone base.
Ever since Azure had made its existence public, to keep the world from fearing a violent dictatorship, it had always maintained a very lenient attitude toward various civilian groups, including the media.
Yet no matter how relaxed things were, they had never reached the point of complete lawlessness. If journalists ever dared besiege a war zone base, the garrison troops wouldn't hesitate to ship them all off to Antarctica to photograph Great Spikes.
Earlier, when they landed at the airfield, Han Qingyu had hidden away.
In truth, he had understood what Wen Jifei meant at the time. Confronted with the budding rumors and the reporters' encirclement, stepping out calmly to show his face would definitely have helped matters. Yet he had still shrunk back.
He had no confidence in himself...
During the months following his awakening, life had generally been free of pressure, and Han Qingyu had been well protected. For most of that time, he had drifted back and forth between bewilderment and curiosity, occasionally interspersed with touches of pride and excitement.
Now, however, everything had changed in an instant.
First came the crushing weight of immense pressure, inexplicably leaving him to uphold the faith of so many people across the world. Then came a dizzying sequence of convoluted events and logical shifts that left his head spinning.
The doctor who had been by his side when he woke, an important friend, had suddenly turned against him—sending assassins to target him and exploiting his injury to manufacture chaos...
And to make matters worse, both Plague Chicken and the Little Prince felt none of this was unreasonable.
To the present Han Qingyu, this world was far too heavy and far too complex.
"Is he asleep?" In the suite's living room, the Little Prince looked up and whispered.
"Mm." Operating in silent mode, the suit of iron armor turned slowly, nodded, and gently pulled the door shut.
In bed inside the room, Han Qingyu slowly opened his eyes. Hesitating for a moment, he ultimately couldn't hold back; like a cat, he silently slipped out of bed, padded over to the door, and sat down.
He pressed his ear against the door.
"Plague Chicken, was what you said earlier today true?" outside the door, Yang Qingbai asked softly. "Is Qingzi's condition really that hard to cure?"
Wen Jifei nodded. "Yeah. Knowing Zhe Qiuhong, she wouldn't have acted without near certainty. So it's definitely going to be difficult. What worries me even more is that, unless some exceptional circumstance arises, Qingzi might never recover."
"Then..." Rusty Sister hesitated, words failing her.
"How about we take him to Antarctica and toss him out to chop Great Spikes! Maybe if he slashes a couple of red-shoulders or has some kind of mishap, he'll suddenly snap back to normal? That's how it always goes on TV."
He Tangtang's voice rose a little too high, only to be suppressed by fierce glares from the others.
"Get lost! Do you think the current Qingzi can take on a red-shoulder? You bastard!" Rusty Sister's tone grew anxious. "Qingzi will die.
"He doesn't have his Yanxiu anymore, his combat strength has plummeted, and he doesn't even have his fighting spirit or experience left. He really will die."
Rusty Sister's intentions in saying this were, of course, out of love and a desire to protect Qingzi.
Yet hearing those words through the door still made Han Qingyu feel a pang of shame and a sting of pain.
*Not even any fighting spirit left?* Han Qingyu quietly reflected on that morning's assassination attempt and realized the conclusion seemed true. Throughout the entire ordeal, he had felt no rage, nor had he even thought of striking back.
"If all else fails, can't we just let him stay like this? We'll protect him." Rusty Sister's voice wasn't loud, but her emotions ran high as she continued, "He used to protect us, protect so many people. From now on, it's our turn to protect him... until victory, or until we all die together at the hands of Puta'er and Miwang."
"Yeah. Yes, of course we could." Wen Jifei smiled gently and looked at Rusty Sister.
Concern bred confusion; those were merely childish words spoken from affection. In reality, if they could truly do that, they never would have reached this point in the past, nor would they need to sit down and hold council today.
Wouldn't it have been enough to simply retire into seclusion long ago?
The truth was, in the situation they faced today, what hung upon Qingzi and their team was already far more than just the people beside them. His ties and his influence ran far too deep and reached far too wide.
"I'm just thinking about what might be a better way forward," Wen Jifei tried to soothe Rusty Sister's emotions, but his eyes as he spoke were tinged with worry and fatigue.
"No matter what we do, it won't be good," the Little Prince said in a dejected, dispirited tone. "Setting aside what happens to the world, without him, we wouldn't even be able to hold Stream Vanguard together."
In Stream Vanguard's hands were over ten thousand madmen and thugs, including more than twenty top-tier combat powers, possessing formidable fighting strength. At the same time, behaving aggressively had become second nature to them, they commanded massive resources, and they held an independent, detached status.
Once this force lost the necessity of its independence, before long, every faction would set its sights on them, applying pressure or driving wedges until they were ultimately dismantled and absorbed.
That necessity of independence was synonymous with the name Han Qingyu.
Aside from him, no matter how wise Wen Jifei was or how shrewd and calculating he became, no matter how formidable Wu Xu was or how steadily he advanced, neither of them could sustain Stream Vanguard's detached existence.
"Don't be fooled by how much Azure values and respects us right now. Once Major Qing is gone and our faction loses its independence, the first thing those council members will want to do is figure out how to divide us and erase this team's influence," the Little Prince said gloomily. "Never overestimate the moral principles and consciences of politicians..."
The more he spoke, the more agitated and worried he became.
"Forget it, let's not talk about that for now." Wen Jifei spoke up to steer the conversation back. "Tomorrow is Commander Zhang's funeral, so there will definitely be huge crowds. Add to that the fact that after overnight fermentation, even more people will be waiting for Qingzi to appear. His every move will be under the microscope... He's under immense pressure right now.
"How about this: Xu'er, you take Qingzi's place and serve as a pallbearer for Commander Zhang alongside me.
"As for the Little Prince, don't attend. Take the opportunity to slip out and look into where Zhe Qiuhong is right now. We'll track her down under the pretext of having her cure Tangtang's hair loss.
"Also, I need to get up early tomorrow to pick up the Chief of Staff at the airfield and see what their side thinks about all this..."
By the time the internal discussion wrapped up, it was already past two in the morning.
Before everyone returned to their rooms, Rusty Sister carefully cracked open the bedroom door once more to check. Qingzi was lying quietly on the bed, fast asleep.
Once she closed the door, he sat up in bed.
Han Qingyu didn't know what he should do now, what he could possibly do or say. In this haze of chaotic thoughts, he sat until past five before unwittingly drifting off to sleep.
...
The following day, morning.
Exhausted in mind and spirit, Han Qingyu woke very late—so late that by the time he stepped out of the room, the coffin and motorcade had already departed the war zone base.
No one had woken him.
Just as Wen Jifei had said, after fermenting through the night, the storm had grown larger and fiercer. In the present situation, the entire world had likely become a swirling vortex.
And at the eye of that vortex, as the man at the center of it all, Han Qingyu sat alone in the suite's living room for a while before finally reaching out and opening the door.
"Major Qing... Report!" A soldier snapped to attention and saluted upon realizing he had been spacing out, then pulled a letter from his chest pocket. "This... Second Lieutenant Wen told me to hand this to you."
"Oh, all right." Han Qingyu took it and opened the envelope.
The message inside was brief. Wen Jifei wrote: "Saw you were sleeping dead to the world, so we didn't wake you. A few of us went to see Commander Zhang off. Don't worry, Wu Xu is taking your place as pallbearer. We know you're exhausted, and things outside are pretty complicated right now—it might be more than you can handle... Get some good rest. We'll be back soon."
...*Fine. Maybe it really is better if I don't go. I didn't even have the courage to show my face outside the airfield yesterday; a scene like today's is probably even further beyond me.*
*Yeah, if I went, things might just go wrong.*
Comforting himself and making excuses as he put the letter away, Han Qingyu looked at the young soldier and suddenly asked, "Do you have a cigarette?"
This was the first time Han Qingyu had asked anyone for a cigarette since waking up. In truth, even before, he hadn't smoked much; on the rare occasions he did, it was usually Wen Jifei handing him one after a battle.
"Yes, sir." The soldier hurriedly pulled a cigarette from his breast pocket, offered it, and flicked a lighter to help him light it.
"Thank you." Han Qingyu walked over to the stairwell and looked down. On the flights below, fully armed Azure soldiers stood guard every few steps.
Evidently, they were stationed there to protect him. In that case, heading down would be inconvenient, leaving Han Qingyu with no choice but to head up.
Going up was only a flight and a half. Soon, he stepped out onto the rooftop terrace.
He noticed the terrace was damaged, with one corner missing.
Yet even so, it was already one of the few best-preserved structures in the entire war zone.
Because every building here was damaged.
Most places were reduced to broken walls and shattered rubble.
"Looks like the Great Spike offensive during the final phase of the Zenith War they talk about struck this war zone base directly."
Han Qingyu took in the surrounding sights, trying to picture the battle that had unfolded here six months ago...
And in its aftermath, the bodies carried away from pools of blood.
Those who could never be found... including their army commander.
Today, the remains of Commander Zhang and the others had departed from here, transported toward the cemetery on the outskirts of the city.
Taking two steps forward, Han Qingyu peered into the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of the motorcade.
A soldier standing guard in the adjacent mess hall building suddenly snapped out of his daze. Lowering his binoculars, he turned to look at him... then raised a hand in a slightly flustered salute. "Major Qing!"
His voice was choked with emotion.
His eyes were rimmed with red.
He had clearly just been crying hard.
Holding his binoculars, he had probably been watching that departing motorcade.
"Which... which army are you with?"
"Reporting to Major Qing, Fourth Army!"
"Then you..." Han Qingyu wanted to ask why they hadn't gone to see Commander Zhang off, but he stopped himself, realizing how foolish that question was.
They had been left behind, of course, to protect him.
Silence.
Silence.
Turning his head to look toward the highway once more—*whoosh*, taking a heavy, deep breath—Han Qingyu asked instead, "Has the motorcade been gone for long?"
"Just a little while, sir," the soldier answered.
"There are vehicles here, right?" Han Qingyu asked again.
"Huh?" The soldier blinked blankly.
"Come on. Together, we're going to see Commander Zhang off." Han Qingyu turned to head back downstairs. "Oh, wait for me a moment. I'll go put on my combat suit and gear."
Chapter 740