Han Qingyu had left Xiao Xinghe with a promise. An adult speaking to a child might look like a casual attempt to coax and soothe, nothing of real consequence.
Yet in truth, it was much more.
As proof of this, the Stream Vanguard leader epaulet exclusive to Major The Qing, now clutched in the boy's hand, would serve as future testimony. Whether Han Qingyu ever truly woke or not in the future, he would honor it just the same.
This promise was Han Qingyu's response to Zhang Chiyuan's final words.
Though what Zhang Chiyuan wrote in the letter seemed much like sharing a playful joke with his son, upon a little reflection, Commander Zhang might not have been entirely without a sense of entrustment when penning those dying words.
And so, Han Qingyu accepted.
First, out of reverence for the dead—Zhang Chiyuan had once saved the lives of their group.
Second, he truly hadn't been able to withstand the final sight he witnessed: a stubborn seven-year-old boy standing alone in the pouring rain, saluting to send off his commander father.
This was also the very first promise Han Qingyu had made to anyone since waking up. Its gist: *No matter what happens to you in the future, you can come find me.*
Because he was Han Qingyu, and because this world was one gripped by anxiety under the threat of apocalypse, this promise was, in truth, a momentous pledge.
Yet before this, Han Qingyu had never even indicated whether he would continue bearing responsibility for the more than ten thousand members of Stream Vanguard.
*That's ten thousand people! Ten thousand criminals and thugs who supposedly have atrocious discipline, yet are ready to charge into a death battle with me at a moment's notice. How the hell am I supposed to lead them, to be responsible for their lives and futures?*
*When I see them, even I want to call the police.*
During this past period, hindered by deficits in self-awareness and plagued by apprehension, Han Qingyu had actually feared responsibility.
He had shrunk from even the responsibility toward Stream Vanguard—so how could he bear strangers unrelated to his memories? And much less this world, with so many people?
Until today, right here, Han Qingyu tentatively began to step forward, starting from a promise to a child...
The military funeral had essentially concluded. Wen Jifei and Wu Xu, having just helped escort the caskets up the mountain, were now heading down.
Just as he leapt down from a large bluestone, Wen Jifei's communicator beeped quietly a few times.
"Found them?" Not bothering to mind the people around him, he answered and asked straight out.
"Yeah..." Little Prince quickly rattled off an address before adding, "I've already mobilized our people to head over. Waiting for you."
Stream Vanguard had elites stationed in Shenghai.
After yesterday morning's assassination attempt, Wen Jifei had ordered their people brought over.
He wanted payback.
Since someone had chosen to do this, regardless of who they were or what motives and expectations they harbored, he would take revenge.
This was Stream Vanguard's style, stamped with the clear imprint Han Qingyu had left behind: never take a loss, settle every petty slight... *step on my foot, and I'll blow up your ancestral graves.*
The brief conversation ended there. With no time for polite farewells with the officers and soldiers present, Wen Jifei and Wu Xu quickened their pace down the mountain.
"What's the rush?" Chen Buer's voice suddenly carried over from behind.
Wen Jifei looked back with a grin. "Looking for trouble."
"Oh, then you really should hurry," Chen Buer said with a nod after a moment of thought. "I won't waste your time with idle talk, then. Off you go."
Today might prove to be a day of monumental significance to humanity's future, or perhaps merely an ordinary day that would ultimately settle into quiet dust. Variables were in motion...
Yet in the end, as Chen Buer had said, he did not seek out Han Qingyu to say anything more.
He simply watched as they left the grounds, got into the vehicle, and departed.
Then his gaze turned toward the distant onlookers and journalists, many of whom were rushing after them in pursuit.
*“Cleaving a Mountain with One Strike, Leveling the Dust with One Surge: Major Qing Returns in Force at Today's Military Funeral!” “You Can Always Believe in Han Qingyu!”*...
Clutching their cameras as they ran wildly, the reporters were already drafting headlines in their heads. This was bound to be the number-one trending topic in the world; now it was just a matter of who was fastest.
As for the newspapers printed hours earlier claiming Major Qing had chosen to avoid the funeral, they could all be tossed straight into the trash now.
***
The military jeep driven by Yang Qingbai sped down the road.
Han Qingyu glanced sideways at He Tangtang.
The guy was rarely ever this quiet, sitting there without making a sound, neither hollering nor blustering...
*What's up with him?* Sensing something was off, Han Qingyu puzzled over it for a moment, then realized: *Wait, does he think I've completely recovered?*
*Seems like it.* In that brief collision of gazes, Han Qingyu keenly noticed something new in the way He Tangtang looked at him compared to recent days... something called cold feet.
*Considering how arrogant he's been acting toward me lately, and how he just unlocked that 'cannibal' skill yesterday with his confidence through the roof... there's only one reason he'd suddenly be this cowed.*
*And Rusty Sister... she looks somewhat ill at ease and lost.*
*Plus the way Yang Qingbai looked back at me before driving off, there seemed to be excitement and joy in his eyes.*
*That settles it.*
The answer was certain: at least those three thought he was back to normal. Han Qingyu hesitated in his heart, then a thought struck him: *What if I just keep playing along?*
*Let's give it a shot.*
With his mind made up, Han Qingyu looked straight ahead at the windshield rather than at He Tangtang.
He spoke, his voice deep: "Tangtang."
He Tangtang turned his head. "...Yeah?"
"I owe you a lot for taking care of me all this time."
"Heh."
"When we get back, how about I find some time to spar with you?"
"Th-that wouldn't be good, would it? My Yanxiu only just awakened, and I still haven't gotten the hang of controlling it..."
"All the more reason to practice if you aren't used to it."
"...Oh." That sounded entirely reasonable, making it hard to find an excuse to refuse. He Tangtang pondered for a moment. "Then can I call for backup?"
Now it was Han Qingyu's turn to be stunned. Not just him—Wen Jifei and the others in the vehicle were equally dumbfounded. *Call backup? Aside from Stream Vanguard, where outside would Tangtang call people from? And wait, is he planning to gang up on Qingzi?*
Han Qingyu said, "You..."
Holding his communicator, He Tangtang spoke into it: "Hello, Shenghai War Zone Hospital? Send a few people over."
The iron armor clanked, rattling like a freshly started tractor as Rusty Sister burst into laughter.
***
Shenghai, Xinbielong. In an old lane stood a seemingly ordinary three-story house of considerable size, surrounded by ordinary residents coming and going.
Not far in front of Zhe Qiuhong, the subordinate who had been so smug and complacent earlier now appeared visibly flustered.
"What do we do now? Miss, he seems..."
"You want to say he seems to have recovered, don't you?" Zhe Qiuhong looked up with a faint smile. "Cleaving a mountain in a single strike, Major Qing... As expected, even stripped of his memories and Yanxiu, his instinctive reactions are still immensely formidable."
Zhe Qiuhong was certain Han Qingyu had not recovered.
Her line of reasoning was entirely different from Wu Xu's and Chen Buer's. Her judgment rested on a single premise: absolute confidence in her own medical skills.
Qingzi could not have recovered. Neither his memories nor his Yanxiu would return so easily. Zhe Qiuhong understood his injuries, and she understood Yanxiu deeply, so she was completely sure of it.
"Still, the strength he displayed does seem a bit excessively high," she muttered softly to herself, then turned her gaze toward him. "Recount the entire process of how he split the mountain, in detail."
"Understood." The subordinate complied, accurately reciting the detailed description relayed from the scene like a tape recorder.
"I see," Zhe Qiuhong murmured slowly after listening. "You're saying that before he drew his blade, the blue-light column sword was embedded into the base of the mountain first, correct?"
"Yes."
"Then there's no mystery," Zhe Qiuhong said.
"Huh?" The subordinate looked bewildered.
"Have you ever seen a traditional stonemason split rock?" Zhe Qiuhong asked abruptly, before answering her own question. "In traditional Huaxia craftsmanship, when a stonemason splits a boulder, he drives in several small steel wedges. The placement of those wedges is actually a matter of physics..."
"Qingzi naturally never did well in physics, but his father just so happens to be skilled in stonemasonry," Zhe Qiuhong concluded.
The subordinate thought it over, then realized. "Miss means... his mountain-splitting strike was actually a trick? That column sword was the wedge he drove in first."
Zhe Qiuhong nodded.
"So Han Qingyu's current strength isn't actually as formidable as it appeared on the surface or as the outside world believes. As long as Voyage seizes on this point and capitalizes on it, public opinion could completely turn around again..." The subordinate pondered and pondered, before suddenly muttering three words: "How very cunning."
He was calling Han Qingyu cunning.
A nineteen-year-old Han Qingyu, suddenly cunning?
"Indeed, even I'm a bit perplexed now. He doesn't even have his memories, looking pure and simple... Just how did this cunningness of his survive?"
Zhe Qiuhong said with a wry smile.
"Why don't you ask him yourself?" a voice answered from outside the hall's door, casual and laced with amusement.
Having spent over three years together, Zhe Qiuhong naturally recognized the voice of the Little Prince.
Chapter 748