After finishing their cigarettes, the veterans chatted no more.
This was never an occasion where they should have spoken. It was only that these brothers had spent this entire period in emotional turmoil, pain bottled up inside. Had they not found someone to talk to, they feared they would lose heart, resign themselves to being cripples, forfeit their spirit, and end up living like trees with rotted roots.
All four were seasoned soldiers who had waded through life and death. Now crippled, they were nonetheless still alive, and that final breath of resolve deep in their chests was truly more precious than life itself.
Today, before their commander and their brothers, they had spoken those defiant words to Major Qing... which meant they still had face to uphold, spirit and ambition to sustain them, allowing them to grit their teeth and carry on with a smile.
In the end, they might close their eyes with regret, yet in peace and with a clear conscience.
Or perhaps, one day, they would stake their lives alongside that final draw of the blade.
"Until we meet again, Major Qing."
"Until we meet again," Han Qingyu nodded, lowering his head to step out from beneath the umbrella.
Yet the veteran left the umbrella in his hand.
Holding the large black umbrella in his right hand, Han Qingyu walked through the rain, continuing toward the formation.
At this moment, he had no idea what kind of impact his recent display had caused. Compared to the overwhelming shock of splitting the mountain with a single strike, this latest demonstration was plain—yet precisely because it was plain and full of subtle detail, it threw the people closest to him into utter confusion.
"Did he recover?" Recovering from their daze, He Tangtang and Yang Qingbai turned their eyes toward Rusty Sister.
"M-maybe," Rusty Sister said after a hesitation. Most likely. She felt a sudden surge of conflicting emotions—first happy for Qingzi, but then unable to help feeling torn.
*Nineteen-year-old Qingzi was so fun, so endearing. But that other guy was so infuriating, so utterly obnoxious!*
Even so, deep down she was still genuinely happy for him.
At the same time, even Wen Jifei glanced over at Wu Xu, silently questioning him with his eyes.
Their gazes met. With a barely perceptible motion, Wu Xu gave a slight shake of his head, dismissing the conjecture.
Qingzi had not recovered. The formidable power displayed in that mountain-cleaving strike was simply because he was inherently terrifyingly strong; even without recovering, he was monstrously powerful.
Yet he had indeed not recovered.
Wu Xu could make this judgment immediately, whereas the others could not. It had nothing to do with familiarity; if familiarity were the measure, Wen Jifei would undoubtedly know him best.
The prerequisite for making such a judgment was strength.
As the old saying went, the layman watches the spectacle, while the expert observes the craft. To judge the true standard of Han Qingyu's strike demanded an exceptionally high caliber of "expert." To clearly perceive the intricacies behind it, being at the super level was not enough; one needed to be at least in the top ten of the Dome Leaderboard.
In other words, aside from himself, fewer people than the fingers on two hands could be found across the entire world who met that standard.
Two such individuals were present today.
Besides Wu Xu, there was another—the old man who was invincible under heaven.
"How is it?" Xu Xiaohong turned his head, signaling with his eyes as he asked with anticipation.
Chen Buer responded with his eyes: *No.*
"No? Then why do you look so thrilled deep down?"
"Just now, he didn't use the power of Yanxiu," Chen Buer said in a low, slow, yet deliberate voice.
Han Qingyu's Yanxiu remained sealed, and the peerless magma trait inherited from Ivan was likely the same. That was why both Wu Xu and Chen Buer could state with certainty that he had not recovered.
However, Chen Buer's words were not intended to explain why he claimed Han Qingyu had not recovered—they were his answer to Xu Xiaohong's question of why he was so thrilled.
"...What do you mean?" Xu Xiaohong paused after asking, and then the realization struck him.
His pupils dilated—shock, followed by joy.
Because Chen Buer possessed no Yanxiu.
His status as invincible under heaven had nothing to do with Yanxiu. It was the fusion of innate human potential and source energy, a metamorphosis... an extraordinary existence born from transcending the limits of the human race.
Once, Xu Xiaohong had asked Chen Buer: *Will Han Qingyu's combat strength surpass yours one day?*
Chen Buer had replied: *I don't know. Perhaps.*
*What about Miwang? At his limit, can he surpass Miwang in the future?* Xu Xiaohong had pressed.
Chen Buer had shaken his head decisively: *Almost impossible.*
*Why?*
*Because he is a Yanxiu. I took a strike from Miwang before. Do you know what Miwang is? ...Miwang is the ultimate form of Yanxiu in this current cosmic epoch.*
Thus, Chen Buer meant that it was nearly impossible for Han Qingyu to go further along the path of Yanxiu than Miwang.
Just like Chen Buer himself, as the ultimate pinnacle of human transcendence, it was practically impossible for him to overtake from another path and surpass the Yanxiu.
Yet now, here and now... another possibility had emerged.
This was the true reason for Chen Buer's excitement.
Han Qingyu had lost his memories, his Yanxiu was sealed, and his state had essentially reverted to that of an ordinary nineteen-year-old youth—leaving behind only a formidable physique and reflexes forged through source energy tempering.
"The path he is walking right now might be mine," Chen Buer murmured suddenly.
"Then... teach him? Do you plan to tell him?" Xu Xiaohong felt somewhat bewildered. Did this mean Han Qingyu might walk two completely different paths within a single body? He was not sure.
"No. Starting from this very moment, the path he must continue walking is actually vastly different from mine. Because his Yanxiu hasn't truly disappeared."
Chen Buer shook his head. Even if it were just his own path, he could not teach it—and probably should not.
"Let him take it slowly on his own, even if the ultimate outcome is failure." With that, Chen Buer turned away, no longer watching Han Qingyu.
Han Qingyu might not successfully forge this path or carve out a trail uniquely his own. Even so, Chen Buer ultimately chose to remain a bystander, opting not even to tell him.
By this time, the burial crypts high up on the cliff face had been fully chiseled out, and the military funeral proceeded to its final stage: interment.
Qingzi had not yet returned, so Wu Xu once again took his place as a pallbearer for Commander Zhang.
"Remember what you once told me?"
The moment the pallbearers stepped forward, Chen Buer seemed gripped by a sudden trace of unease, turning to ask Xu Xiaohong.
Xu Xiaohong: "Hm?"
"You said that if an egg is broken from the inside, it is new life; if broken from the outside, it is food."
Having said that, Chen Buer moved forward with the casket.
It was rare for him to say something with a touch of cultured wisdom.
Xu Xiaohong roughly understood what Chen the martial man meant: that truly new path could perhaps only be walked if Han Qingyu broke through his shackles from within.
Otherwise, when the day came that he finally stood before Miwang, he would still be nothing more than "food."
In terms of species suppression, the Yanxiu were inherently far superior to humans.
In the bygone Yanxiu era, this planet's civilization—whether dinosaurs or mankind—had occupied a very low rung on the food chain.
...
In truth, there were also people in this world who treated Great Spikes as "food."
As of now, there was only one.
He Tangtang finally caught Qingzi's eye. Thrilled, he raised a hand toward him, conveying a message that was likely not "Congratulations on recovering," but rather: "Welcome back to the ranks of our top experts."
Unfortunately, Han Qingyu did not appreciate the gesture in the slightest. Sparing him merely a glance, he paid him no heed and walked toward the side.
That was the area where Zhang Chiyuan's family and the relatives of the other ten martyrs stood... To keep his emotions in check, Han Qingyu had not dared to look too much in their direction earlier.
Even when Commander Zhang mentioned him in the letter, he had not dared to look their way.
Yet now, a little boy stood there alone in the rain.
Zhang Xinghe had originally stood with his mother, held close in front of her, while an Azure staff member held an umbrella over the two of them from behind.
Just moments ago, however, as his father's casket began moving up the mountain, the seven-year-old boy had suddenly dashed out from beneath the umbrella.
His mother tried to grab him but failed, and seeing that he had not run far, she didn't try again.
The umbrella-bearing staff member also hurried forward to grab him... but was shaken off as well.
The little boy was unexpectedly stubborn, biting his lip as he stood in the downpour.
With no one else available to assist for the moment, the staff member looked back and forth and decided to return to Mrs. Zhang's side, for He Yunqing was pale as ash, her breathing faint, looking as though she might collapse at any second.
Standing a few meters ahead of them in the pouring rain, little Xinghe suddenly raised his hand in an Azure military salute.
And so, tears streaming down his face, he stubbornly held that salute, gazing up as his father's casket was borne on the shoulders of the pallbearers, ascending the mountain step by step.
Han Qingyu walked up beside him.
Little Xinghe looked up at him.
Han Qingyu did not hold the umbrella over the boy. Instead, he closed it, remaining silent as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him.
Together, they watched until all eleven caskets had been carried up the mountain.
Zhang Chiyuan's casket was interred into the highest burial crypt on the cliff face.
Finally, a massive stone slab settled into place, sealing the crypt entrance.
"If you're a real man, don't catch a cold. Go back and take good care of your mother in your father's place," Han Qingyu finally spoke, opening the umbrella.
Beneath the umbrella, little Xinghe looked up at him once more. "Mm."
"Do you know who I am?"
"Mm." Little Xinghe blinked and nodded vigorously. "You're Major Qing."
Of course he knew Major Qing. All his classmates did; they imitated his gear, his combat moves, everything about him... An excited glimmer finally broke through little Xinghe's eyes.
"...That's right," Han Qingyu nodded after a brief pause. "Anyway, I'm that friend your dad mentioned in his letter. The one he said you could turn to whenever you need anything."
With that, Han Qingyu unpinned a leader's epaulet custom-made for him by Stream Vanguard from his shoulder and placed it in little Xinghe's hand.
Then he handed him the umbrella...
And finally, like a sworn brother, he reached out and patted the little boy on the shoulder.
Then he turned away.
Chapter 747