Shen Shanwu didn’t even know how he ended up back in the car with Jiang Huan. Once the door was locked, the two of them sat in silence. Jiang Huan hadn’t even brought a driver with him. Upon hearing that Jiang Tong had been taken away by a car sent by the Marshal, he had immediately left the meeting halfway, storming over alone, brimming with murderous intent.
Am I dead? Shen Shanwu thought in shock. How did I die? Why does everyone think I’m dead? … What kind of misunderstanding happened here?
And Jiang Huan said they never even had a last meeting—what does that last meeting refer to? When did I go to the coastal base to find Jiang Huan before I supposedly died?
Shen Shanwu’s mind was filled with confusion and disbelief. It was as if he had missed two entire seasons of a show and, upon returning, found that all the main characters had changed. But the only thing he could be sure of was that the things he had sent weren’t thrown away by Jiang Huan. While Shen Shanwu had been thinking of him, Jiang Huan had also been thinking of him. Shen Shanwu felt as if the deep-rooted illness that had been weighing on his heart for years had finally dissipated. He could finally breathe a sigh of relief, expelling the long-held turmoil from his chest.
After getting in the car, Jiang Huan didn’t start the engine immediately. His overly excited emotions hadn’t been calmed even after leaving the villa. His usually warm, steady fingers still trembled slightly, hovering weakly over the steering wheel. Jiang Huan seemed to be lost in painful memories, his brows furrowed tightly, and even his breathing was shallow and erratic, broken.
He was no longer the calm and unshakable leader who stood firm at the front, shielding others from the wind and rain. The crimson and fragile heart was exposed in the depths of the night, the pulsing blood unable to hide its surging heat. After a brief pause, Jiang Huan suddenly hurriedly pulled out a nameplate from his collar. He looked at it under the car’s headlights, carefully selecting one, gripping it tightly in his palm as if it were a lifeline.
In the dim light, Shen Shanwu saw that Jiang Huan’s eyes were bloodshot, and though there was a faint glimmer in his gaze, a closer look revealed only dryness and desolation. Jiang Huan wouldn’t cry—at least, not in front of others. He would never cry in front of others.
Shen Shanwu suddenly had a very unsettling thought. Could one of the two nameplates around Jiang Huan’s neck be his…?
Jiang Huan took deep breaths, trying to quickly regain control of his emotions and take Jiang Tong back. The cold air was swallowed into his stomach, trembling as it was exhaled, each breath a painful struggle, like a sharp wind slicing through his throat.
The almost imperceptible sobs were more tormenting than a rasping file, gradually torturing Shen Shanwu, making his heart ache and tighten.
No one could bear to watch someone extremely important to them sit by, heartbroken and grieving for themselves, and Shen Shanwu was no exception. It was easy for him to return to his adult form. As soon as he focused his mind, his bones, muscles, and skin would naturally stretch and unfold, taking only a few seconds.
But he couldn’t.
If he were the only mutant in this world, or if his abilities were his alone to keep, Shen Shanwu would not hesitate to tell Jiang Huan, just to stop him from being so upset.
But this involved the interests of nearly a hundred mutants, and Shen Shanwu didn’t have the right to expose this secret for his own personal reasons. He trusted Jiang Huan, but he couldn’t ask other mutants to trust him the same way.
It was like if the mutant “CEO” suddenly stepped forward and said, “I told my wife the secret of our abilities. Don’t worry, she’s very trustworthy and won’t leak it.” Before any other mutants could act, Shen Shanwu would be the first to twist his head off.
I need to find a way to let Jiang Huan know that I’m still alive, Shen Shanwu thought seriously.
On the way back, the car remained silent. Shen Shanwu was in a mess of confusion, not knowing what to say, while Jiang Huan couldn’t muster the energy to comfort Jiang Tong. When it came to anything related to Shen Shanwu, it was hard for him to maintain his cold, composed facade, let alone focus on taking care of the child’s emotions.
He wearily pushed open the door to the Shanhai Unit’s office building. Zhong Yin and Zhang Xiaowen were sitting, chatting casually. When they saw the captain and the troublesome child return, Zhong Yin, who was a bit less perceptive, immediately pointed to the two cups of juice on the table. “Captain, this watermelon juice was sent by the Xincheng Combat Unit. They said something about how the child is still young and doesn’t know any better. They hope we adults won’t hold it against the child and not take it to heart.”
Zhang Xiaowen, quick to react, grabbed Zhong Yin and gave her a look to signal that something was off. We need to tone down our presence quickly.
“Put it in the fridge,” Jiang Huan said, automatically ignoring any irrelevant information. “Zhang Xiaowen, go to the school tomorrow and cancel Jiang Tong’s boarding arrangement. From now on, arrange for someone to pick him up and drop him off every day. No one is allowed to approach Jiang Tong unless I give permission.”
“Anyone?” Zhang Xiaowen didn’t quite understand the order, but after hearing the gossip that had been circulating in the team about the captain leaving the meeting halfway, she seemed to grasp the meaning behind the word ‘anyone.’
Jiang Huan couldn’t be bothered to explain. He emphasized again, “Yes, anyone.” Afterward, he took Jiang Tong’s hand and went straight to his bedroom.
“Go take a shower and sleep early.” He removed his heavy coat and boots, then sat down at the desk, forcing himself to focus on the unfinished work. He needed to find something to do to keep himself from being idle.
Shen Shanwu quickly took a shower, changed into his pajamas, and burrowed into the blankets.
I could leave Jiang Huan a note, Shen Shanwu thought, but it can’t say something like, “Hey! Your older brother isn’t dead, surprised, huh?” After all, from Jiang Huan’s perspective, he probably wouldn’t even know that Shen Shanwu had been assumed dead for nearly four years.
He couldn’t write it tomorrow either. Jiang Tong had just been to the Marshal’s house and heard about it. If Shen Shanwu suddenly popped up the next day, eager to make his presence known, even if Jiang Huan didn’t suspect anything, Jiang Duotang, that old fox, would definitely start to get suspicious.
He needed a reasonable and convincing explanation to reappear in Jiang Huan’s sight…
Of course, there was still a very crucial question: why was his nameplate in Jiang Huan’s hands, and why did Jiang Huan believe he was already dead? Had he done something before that could have led to such a misunderstanding, or was someone deliberately misleading him?
Shen Shanwu thought for half the night but couldn’t come up with any answers. By 1 a.m., he was so frustrated that veins were popping on his forehead, and he suddenly jumped out of bed.
“…” Jiang Huan noticed the noise and looked up from his desk, frowning slightly as he asked, “Why haven’t you gone to sleep yet? Don’t you need to report tomorrow?”
“You still have the nerve to ask?” Shen Shanwu, with his talent for being unreasonable, was in top form. “I was already asleep, but your writing was so loud that you woke me up! And this light is way too bright, I couldn’t sleep at all!”
“…Sorry.” Jiang Huan showed a hint of apology, his voice low. “Go to sleep, I’ll be quieter.”
“Quieter? It’s already this late!” Shen Shanwu, boiling with anger, grabbed Jiang Huan’s arm and pulled him toward the bed. “Go to sleep!”
“…I haven’t taken a shower yet.”
“Don’t take a shower! Do it tomorrow!” Shen Shanwu threw off the blanket and pushed Jiang Huan into bed. Then, he lay down beside him, blocking the outside while Jiang Huan slept inside.
Jiang Huan was momentarily stunned by Jiang Tong’s forceful attitude, but after a few seconds, his gaze softened. He gently turned and wrapped his arm around Shen Shanwu’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Jiang Tong, for making you worry… I shouldn’t have argued with Grandpa and Grandma in front of you. Don’t worry about anything that happened today. It has nothing to do with you. Just focus on school and live well here.”
“…” Shen Shanwu didn’t say anything. He quietly stared at the nameplate hanging from Jiang Huan’s neck, the same one he wore day and night. It was like wearing an incredibly heavy memorial plaque on his chest.
Under the moonlight, one of the nameplates had “Jiang Huan” engraved on it, while the other, as expected, had three large characters: “Shen Shanwu.”
“…” Shen Shanwu stared at the nameplates for a long time. Just as he was about to burn through the metal with his gaze, a sudden realization struck him—
Wasn’t Jiang Huan’s birthday coming up? At the end of September, Libra. Little Jiang Huan had once seriously discussed astrology with him, saying that his Libra sign was a perfect match for Shen Shanwu’s Aquarius, a statement which Shen Shanwu had mercilessly countered with several eye-rolls, crushing the discussion into dust.
He could easily use his birthday as an excuse to reappear, making it seem perfectly reasonable and justified. And besides—
The gift that had been delayed for nearly six years—surely it could be delivered this year, right?
The next morning, Zhang Xiaowen was up bright and early, waiting in the cafeteria at around five in the morning. She strictly followed the captain’s orders, planning to personally take Jiang Tong to school after breakfast. Meanwhile, Teacher Yao Wuque, who was conveniently on the way, didn’t have any classes in the morning and was said to be sprawled in bed, sleeping in all sorts of awkward positions.
Taking advantage of the moment when Jiang Huan left with Lieutenant Xu and Lu Jingzhi, Shen Shanwu quickly leaned over and asked, “Sister Xiaowen, isn’t the captain’s birthday coming up? How are you all planning to celebrate?”
After the apocalypse, birthdays became one of the most important holidays for the few remaining survivors—those who were the last of their kind and lived with the constant possibility of death. No matter where Shen Shanwu went in the years since, the human settlements he visited all placed great importance on their birthdays. That’s why he asked Zhang Xiaowen about it, hoping to get a sense of the plans for the day so he could slip in unnoticed and maybe sneak in a gift.
To Shen Shanwu’s surprise, Zhang Xiaowen frowned when she heard the question. She carefully glanced around, then covered her mouth with her hand and whispered, “Xiao Tong… the captain doesn’t celebrate his birthday. Whatever you do, don’t wish him a happy birthday. It’s a minefield—whoever touches it, dies. Just treat it like any other ordinary day. You must, must, must remember that.”
“Why…?” Shen Shanwu asked, then awkwardly realized, Don’t tell me this is because of me again? If so, I’ll truly be… the most wronged villain in history.
“I don’t know,” Zhang Xiaowen sighed, her life already hard enough. “…Lieutenant Lu seems to know something, but he won’t say. He’s keeping it tightly shut, like a sealed jar.”
Alright, if Lieutenant Lu knows, then there’s no doubt—it’s because of me, the disaster. Shen Shanwu pouted and muttered, “Our captain really has a lot of issues. No admiration or affection allowed, no birthday celebrations, never smiles… it’s so hard to make a living under him.”
“Exactly, exactly.” Xiaowen immediately pouted in agreement. There was something thrilling yet bittersweet about gossiping about the boss behind his back.
Shen Shanwu took a sip of porridge. “How about we prepare a cake for him this year?”
“The captain won’t eat it. If you push him too hard, he’ll get angry.” Zhang Xiaowen clearly recalled some bad memories and shook her head with lingering fear.
“What if this time he actually eats it? Besides, even if he doesn’t… we can just eat it ourselves, right?”
“…Jiang Tong, tell your sister the truth—are you the one craving the cake?”
Shen Shanwu: “…”
The first day of school was uneventful. Shen Shanwu was so bored during math class that he could have calculated the problems with his toes. He was halfway through a nap when he instinctively turned his head and saw his homeroom teacher, Teacher Tao, smiling at him from the back window.
“…”
The sight was too much for little Chen Kaijia, who couldn’t help but snicker. Unfortunately, the teacher heard it and called on him to answer a question. He answered incorrectly and was made to stand for ten minutes as punishment.
Nearby, little Zhao Yanan made a face at him, and, of course, the teacher saw. She called on him to answer a question, and when he got it wrong, he too was made to stand for ten minutes.
Shen Shanwu: “…” A pair of lively treasures.
After school in the afternoon, as agreed, the “lucky tool” who came to pick up Shen Shanwu was Lieutenant Lu Jingzhi. He hadn’t even met Jiang Tong yet when he stood at the door of the classroom and was immediately dragged away by Teacher Tao for a ten-minute talk. Nine minutes of it were just small talk, and the remaining one minute could be summed up with one sentence: “Jiang Tong slept the whole day.”
“Did I send you to school just for you to sleep?” Lu Jingzhi was furious. “Why sleep here? Isn’t it better to sleep on your bed?”
Shen Shanwu mumbled in response, dragging it out for a while before finally interrupting: “Uncle Lu.”
“Call me ‘Brother Lu.'”
“Old Brother Lu.”
“…”
“Yesterday, I overheard some things about the captain and that man who looks very similar to me. Can I ask…?”
“It’s you who look like Brother Shen, not the other way around. Order matters—don’t be so disrespectful,” Lu Jingzhi, always the one to lecture, said. “Besides, these things have nothing to do with you. Why ask? Kids shouldn’t get involved in adult matters.”
“I’m just curious.” Shen Shanwu grabbed onto Lu Jingzhi’s sleeve. “So, what’s up with them not meeting for their last time?”
“…” Lu Jingzhi silently shut his mouth, maintaining his “tight-lipped” persona.
Shen Shanwu raised an eyebrow slightly. “You mean to tell me you really don’t know? I thought you were the only one who calls the captain by his first name. I figured you two were pretty close…”
“Dammit.” Lu Jingzhi was taken aback. “So, you’re trying to provoke me now? Well, it won’t work!”
“…” Shen Shanwu snorted, then quickly switched tactics, adopting a soft approach. “Uncle Lu, just tell me. The captain couldn’t even sleep last night, and I want to make him feel better. Look how much I look like Brother Shen—if I comfort him, it’ll definitely be more effective.”
Although he wasn’t sure which “last meeting” they were referring to, most of the time when he came to the coastal base, he would pass messages to Gong Wei and then ask her to relay them to Jiang Huan. A few times, Lu Jingzhi was also nearby. Since he and Gong Wei were a couple, it was highly likely that he knew about it.
Lu Jingzhi thought about it and actually found some logic in that, but what bothered him was: “Why is Shen Shanwu always called ‘brother,’ but I’m ‘uncle’?”
“Just tell me…”
“I really can’t deal with you.” Lu Jingzhi, unable to escape, sighed and led Shen Shanwu toward the roadside. “Four years ago, when Shen Shanwu found Gong Wei—remember that beautiful lady from the Marshal’s family?—he said he was going to a faraway place, couldn’t share the details, and might not show up for a long time. Before he left, he wanted to see Jiang Huan and said he’d wait for him outside the base until the next afternoon.”
“Gong Wei and I thought he was going on a long trip, considering his identity… well, he’s a wanderer… kind of a weird guy? Anyway, we never thought too much about it. After all, Shen Shanwu was… so amazing and powerful that we couldn’t even imagine he would die.”
“But you know, Jiang Huan’s grandmother intercepted the news. Jiang Huan didn’t know anything, and for half a year, there was no word of Shen Shanwu. Gong Wei and I didn’t think much of it, but then… when we finally heard something again, it was the news of Shen Shanwu’s death…”
Shen Shanwu finally understood which time it was—the gathering of the mutated individuals from the Asia, Europe, and Africa regions in Turkey!
Before he left, he came to the coastal base to say goodbye to Jiang Huan, but since it was a matter concerning the mutated individuals, he was vague and simply mentioned that he was going to a faraway place and might not return for a long time.
He never imagined it would trigger such a series of terrifying misunderstandings later…
