Just as Jiang Huan and Lu Jingzhi were standing at the door discussing how “young hearts are always poetic,” Shen Shanwu was happily sitting at a cafeteria table, waiting for lunch to start.
Originally, he had planned to wait inside the door for Jiang Huan, but the enticing aroma of the cafeteria food was simply too hard to resist—especially after Zhang Xiaowen casually mentioned, “They have braised pork belly today!”
At that, Shen Shanwu happily followed Xiaowen into the cafeteria.
The official members of the Shanhai Unit numbered a hundred, each one an elite among elites, while additional staff, including temps, interns, and cleaners, easily added another hundred. But ever since the news spread that Captain Jiang Huan had brought a “son” back to the Shanhai headquarters, Shen Shanwu’s desk had been constantly visited by passersby who were “just happening” to walk by.
He felt like a new baby polar bear at the zoo, with all the visitors staring curiously into his enclosure. Even someone as thick-skinned as Yao Wuque couldn’t stand being gawked at and snapped at the others, shouting for them to clear out and mind their own business.
The spread on Shen Shanwu’s table was far more lavish than the standard boxed meals the others received. A glistening dish of braised pork belly took the center spot, flanked by a delicate tofu and fish soup garnished with spring onions, a tangy-sweet tomato and egg dish, stir-fried corn with green peas, and a bowl of perfectly cooked, translucent white rice.
Yao Wuque was practically drooling, and even Lieutenant Xu—usually so composed—couldn’t help but complain about how long the captain was taking to arrive.
Just as Xu Ye was about to send someone to hurry him along, Lu Jingzhi finally arrived with Jiang Huan, albeit fashionably late. “We’re here, we’re here. Sorry about that,” Lu Jingzhi said as he plopped down beside Xu Ye, automatically leaving the seat next to Jiang Tong for Jiang Huan. But instead of sitting down, Jiang Huan scanned the dishes on the table, then turned to Zhang Xiaowen and said, “Take some beef from the car and have the chef add another dish.”
“Ohh…” Lu Jingzhi said, pausing with his chopsticks, “Jiang Huan, you’ve changed. You used to think the meals were too nice, always telling us to save and save. Now, after just one trip, you’ve come back all extravagant.”
Jiang Huan placed a piece of egg on Shen Shanwu’s plate without expression and replied, “Jiang Tong is still growing—he should eat more meat.”
“Ugh—jealous. If I had known, I would’ve waited five more years to be your son,” Lu Jingzhi said, shifting from pouting to biting his chopsticks, before turning to Shen Shanwu and admonishing, “Jiang Tong, look at how well your dad treats you. You should listen to him more, spend time with him, make him happy, got it?”
“…” With every “dad” and “father,” Shen Shanwu didn’t even bother to respond. Back then, this kid had been all over him with “Brother Shen, Brother Shen,” and now he was trying to lecture him with such a serious face. Shen Shanwu gave him a glance, pretending not to hear, and happily shoved another bite of egg into his mouth, followed by a large scoop of rice.
Lu Jingzhi hadn’t expected his earnest advice to be so thoroughly ignored, nor did he expect the kid to have such a strong temperament. Unable to bear the silence, he opened his mouth again to nag, but at that moment, Jiang Huan looked up and coldly said, “Eat your food.”
Lu Jingzhi: “!!!”
It was only then that Lu Jingzhi realized, in Jiang Huan’s heart: Shen Shanwu >>> Jiang Tong > Lu Jingzhi…
After dinner, the team members all went their separate ways. Zhong Yin and her sister Zhong Yun rented a place together, Xu Ye went home to his wife, while other bachelors like Yao Wuque stayed in the Shanhai Unit’s shared dorms.
Shen Shanwu had prepared himself to visit the Jiang family’s mansion and meet the Marshal, but to his surprise, Jiang Huan led him into the dormitory area instead and opened a very ordinary room on the top floor. Jiang Huan entered, took off his cloak, and slowly explained, “This is where I stay. For now, you’ll share with me. Tomorrow, we’ll handle your enrollment, and then we can decide whether you’ll stay in the dorms or elsewhere.”
“Oh…okay.” Shen Shanwu didn’t mind much, taking off his coat as well. Jiang Huan led him around the small single dorm room. It had a bed, a set of tables and chairs, a wall filled with books from all over the world, and a bathroom—everything the room consisted of.
The traces of Jiang Huan’s life here were clear. On the desk was a stack of books, each marked with bookmarks, and several files with notes scribbled on them. The pen holder was a mess, filled with everything but pens.
Next to the laptop were two wooden photo frames. One held a picture of Jiang Huan’s mother—confident and mature, smiling warmly at the camera. The other… the other frame contained a picture of Shen Shanwu himself, looking like someone who felt the world owed him eight million, with an angry expression, shouting something in a particular direction.
Shen Shanwu couldn’t remember when this photo was taken, nor who he had been talking to, but in the image, his eyes were dark with black-and-white pupils, and his teeth were even. It must have been after his fifth year. By then, he had already learned to hide the physical traits of a zombie, but he still had no idea how to properly use his abilities. He didn’t even know he could alter his body size. The bone pain that came with his powers hadn’t subsided either. Every time it flared up, little Jiang Huan would get so scared he thought Shen Shanwu was about to die on the spot.
“This is my mother,” Jiang Huan said, walking behind Shen Shanwu. His tone was soft and nostalgic as he introduced her, “She gave me life and a carefree, beautiful childhood. She was an exceptional woman—independent and visionary, a woman who didn’t fall behind men. If she were alive today, the northern district wouldn’t have been split into three factions with those three useless idiots.”
Shen Shanwu nodded, pretending to understand, but in truth, he was eagerly waiting for Jiang Huan to turn his gaze to the photo of himself. He was curious how Jiang Huan would introduce him.
“This person…” Jiang Huan picked up the photo frame and gently wiped away a speck of dust, almost invisible to the naked eye. “This is Shen Shanwu. You’ve seen his photo before.” He paused, his voice softening. “Our relationship is similar to the one between you and me. He is…”
“Your dad?” Shen Shanwu of course didn’t miss such a perfect opportunity to tease. Jiang Huan fell silent for a moment before tapping his forehead with his knuckle in a punitive manner. “He is my most respected older brother, the person I look up to. When I was most vulnerable and alone, he took me in and gave me a place where I could rest easy.”
“The reason I adopted you was because of him. You look so much like him. Rather than seeing you as my son, I view you as his descendant, the continuation of his bloodline. That’s why I gave you the surname Shen.”
Jiang Huan was direct in explaining this matter to Jiang Tong, wanting to avoid any future confusion. “But regardless of whether or not you’re related to him, since I’ve already adopted you, I will raise you to adulthood. I hope you can become a person like Shen Shanwu—strong, outstanding, responsible, with overwhelming power, yet never bullying the weak. Even in the face of adversity, you should treat the world with kindness and gentleness.”
“…” Enough with the praise, you’re going to make the kid embarrassed. Shen Shanwu slightly turned his head away, pressing his cold fingers against his heated cheek. He couldn’t help but mutter inwardly that he must be the first person in history to adopt himself as a son. Yet, despite the grumbling, the slight curve at the corner of his lips refused to fade.
This little white-eyed wolf… actually kind of cute.
Fearing that his blushing would be noticed by Jiang Huan, Shen Shanwu quickly waved his hand and deliberately said, “Is he really that great? Captain, you’re exaggerating.”
“He’s exactly that great.” Jiang Huan rebutted seriously, even frowning so intensely that his brow creased deeply.
At this point, Shen Shanwu fell silent, his mind too embarrassed to think clearly. He had a vague sense that there must be some hidden story behind the “gift” that had left him feeling like a fishbone stuck in his throat, but he couldn’t directly ask. Without Jiang Huan’s verbal denial, he would never be able to fully ease his mind.
After all, the two times he had fallen before had been too brutal, too painful. Even now, with Jiang Huan speaking so openly, Shen Shanwu still didn’t dare to be entirely certain of how Jiang Huan truly felt about his real self.
As the evening grew late, Jiang Huan had originally planned to deal with the pile of accumulated official duties that night. But knowing Jiang Tong was here, and it was his first time in this place, Jiang Huan decided to take the night off and start working in the morning instead.
Though the Shanhai Unit was the top coastal team, their daily habits were quite frugal. Not only did the captain live in a shabby little dorm, but even the bathroom door was broken. No matter how hard you tried to shut it, it would always leave a gap. While Shen Shanwu was taking a shower, Jiang Huan came in three times, bringing shampoo, towels, and pajamas. Eventually, he decided that Shen Shanwu couldn’t clean his hair properly on his own, so he rolled up his sleeves, rolled up his pants, and confidently walked right in.
Shen Shanwu went from angrily shouting for him to get out, to resigning himself to the situation, thinking, “Well, whatever, you’ve already seen everything anyway.” The whole internal struggle lasted no more than a minute. He sat on the small stool, completely naked, enjoying the experience of Jiang Huan drying his hair for him.
“Close your eyes, there’s foam left. It’ll hurt if it gets in your eyes.”
“Oh.” Shen Shanwu obediently shut his eyes.
Jiang Huan continued to gently massage his hair, then suddenly said, “Brother Shanwu has washed my hair before. He was so gentle, afraid his movements might pull on me and hurt me.”
The familiar “Brother Shanwu” almost made Shen Shanwu jump. He held his breath, still shaken, and forced a smile. “Uh, really? That… Uncle Shen, he’s really good to you, huh…”
“Mm, he was really good to me,” Jiang Huan softened his gaze, his hand’s movements becoming gentler. “I was really spoiled back then. After washing my hair, I’d insist on conditioner and essential oils. He’d get so mad and say I looked like conditioner… He never really knew how to scold, just a few words here and there.”
No, no, no. I know how to scold—talking about dancing on graves and moms exploding, I can say it all. It’s just that I’m more careful in front of you, young master.
After the shower, Jiang Huan handed him the hairdryer so he could dry his hair himself. Jiang Huan quickly stripped off his clothes and stood under the shower, enjoying the warm water. His dark hair swept back, water droplets tracing the sharp lines of his face, gathering and slowly flowing down.
Although Shen Shanwu was facing away from him, the bathroom had a large mirror. If the door could close, at least the mirror would fog up, easing Shen Shanwu’s embarrassment. The problem was that the bathroom door was often left open, allowing cold air to pour in, and in front of him was a clear view of a handsome man bathing—no barriers, completely visible.
“…” Shen Shanwu quickly messed up his hair, blew it dry as fast as he could, and hurriedly dove into bed.
The sound of soft “dong” noises echoing in his mind with each movement of the other person became a recurring loop, and Shen Shanwu swore to himself that starting tomorrow, he would definitely stay at school. Jiang Huan’s physique was just too much to his liking, and that face was like a double whammy. How was it that he was always the one passively benefiting from these situations?
The next day, Shen Shanwu’s enrollment matters were fully handled by Zhang Xiaowen. Although Jiang Huan wanted to personally take care of everything, it was clear that the combat team needed him more.
The Coastal Central School had only just started a few days ago, and the situation with Jiang Tong was more troublesome. It was uncertain whether he should start from the first grade or skip ahead. Shen Shanwu personally strongly advocated for skipping grades, but Sister Xiaowen firmly opposed it: “You can’t even read, Jiang Tong. How could you possibly keep up?”
Caught in his own trap, Shen Shanwu hesitated for a long time, carefully considering his words before saying, “…It’s not like I can’t read at all. Besides, I can use my spare time to put in double the effort to catch up with the other students.”
The principal highly appreciated Shen Shanwu’s response and nodded in approval. He pulled out two test papers, deciding to pick a few questions to see exactly what Jiang Tong’s situation was.
The first test paper covered basic subjects like Chinese and math, with no ancient poetry or geometry. As long as you could recognize characters and count, that was enough. After the apocalypse, the first thing children learned was how to escape, not how to recite the times tables.
Since Shen Shanwu “couldn’t recognize big characters,” the principal read the questions aloud while Shen Shanwu answered.
“3 times 18 equals what?”
Zhang Xiaowen frowned and said, “Principal, isn’t multiplication a bit too difficult to start with? Shouldn’t we begin with addition and subtraction within ten…?”
“54.”
Zhang Xiaowen: “…”
“Correct.” The principal was even more pleased. He handed over paper and pen. “You said earlier that you’re not completely illiterate. What characters can you write?”
Shen Shanwu took a bold stroke, writing the character “Huan” with a flourish. The principal’s eyes lit up. “Not bad. This character is your father’s name. To write such a complicated character without a mistake, it seems learning other characters shouldn’t be difficult for you. As you wish, you can directly transfer to third grade.”
Zhang Xiaowen: “…”
Zhang Xiaowen took a deep breath and hesitated before speaking up. “Principal, Jiang Tong can only write his own name and the team leader’s name. You should reconsider.”
Before she finished speaking, Shen Shanwu wrote three more characters on the paper: “Zhang Xiaowen.” Sister Xiaowen’s face stung as though she had been slapped, and she stared in shock. “How did you learn to write this?”
“I remembered it because you wrote your name on my enrollment information form just now,” Shen Shanwu said shamelessly. Zhang Xiaowen widened her eyes and couldn’t find a way to argue, but she genuinely felt happy for Jiang Tong.
Soon, Shen Shanwu’s student ID for third grade class 3 was processed. Jiang Huan’s adopted son, General Jiang’s great-grandson, and the heir apparent of the base—his first day of school was personally guided by the principal on a campus tour, while Sister Xiaowen went to handle his accommodation supplies.
The classroom was mostly empty. Below sixth grade, the focus was on physical education rather than cultural subjects, as survival came first. When they passed the sports field, it was around 10 AM. The scorching sun hung high in the sky, and the heat waves seemed almost tangible, rising from the ground. Shen Shanwu, with his sharp eyes, spotted a familiar figure standing in front of a group of children doing military posture, shouting orders—none other than the still-bandaged Yao Wuqie.
The principal squinted his eyes and smiled, “That class is Third Grade, Class 3. The children there will be your classmates from now on.”
Shen Shanwu nodded. “Can I go over and have a look? Principal, if you have something to do, you can go ahead. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Alright.” The principal indeed had a meeting to attend to. “Remember, your dorm number is 311, bed 4. And tomorrow morning at 6:30, be sure to report to Third Grade, Class 3.”
“Thank you.”
The author has something to say:
Cub Huan: Wrong, the true ranking in my heart is Shen Shanwu>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Jiang Tong>Lu Jingzhi
Lu: You just increased his and didn’t even change anything, right?!
