The Rise of a Special Forces Soldier Abandoned by a Wealthy Family

After his initial outburst of anger, Old Master Zeng forcibly suppressed his surging emotions, turned to Li Weiguo, and gave him an order. His voice trembled slightly with extreme rage, yet it carried an iron will:

"Weiguo! Once you return, immediately use all your authority to thoroughly investigate the list of all foreign nationals who entered or left the capital during that period eighteen years ago."

Especially those who come and disappear quickly, or whose whereabouts are suspicious.

I suspect this is not a simple internal struggle, but a targeted conspiracy involving collusion between insiders and outsiders.

"Yes, sir! Mission accomplished!"

Li Weiguo snapped to attention, gave a standard military salute, and his face was extremely solemn.

He knew that if foreign forces were involved in this matter, it would be a serious dereliction of duty by the Ministry of State Security, and a blatant provocation against the Zeng family and the dignity of the Dragon Kingdom!

Whether for public or private reasons, he must get to the bottom of this!

After assigning the most urgent tasks, another difficult problem arose.

Li Weiguo struggled to shift his gaze back to the computer screen, his Adam's apple bobbing as his mouth went dry.

The folders labeled with ages behind them were like Pandora's boxes, exuding an alluring yet deadly aura.

He looked at General Zeng for help.

Grandpa Zeng's face was ashen, and his chest was heaving violently.

How could he not want to know every detail of his grandson's life over the past eighteen years? He was Zeng Rong's bloodline.

But Baroque's warning, "It's too cruel," rang like an alarm bell in his mind.

He was afraid—afraid that seeing the truth would completely destroy him, and even more so, his son and daughter-in-law.

Just then, a hoarse but unusually firm voice broke the silence.

It is He Jing.

She had somehow managed to stand up straight, her lips bitten raw, a trickle of blood mixed with tears sliding down her chin, but she was completely unaware.

Her eyes were red and swollen like flames, yet they burned with an almost obsessive maternal light as she stared intently at Li Weiguo.

"My son..."

Her voice was broken and fragmented.

Every word seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, laced with blood and tears:

"From the two days after he was born... as his mother... I didn't give him a single day, a single moment, or even a single minute of my time..."

"If I now... can't even bear to look at what he's been through, can't even bear to know..."

"How can I possibly have the face to... even hope to acknowledge him? Ah—!!!"

"I'm so ashamed to be a mother!!!"

She let out a blood-curdling scream, turned sharply to Li Weiguo, and with all her might, gritted her teeth and shouted:

"Minister Li! Please open it!"

"I want to see it! I—I absolutely have to see it!!!"

That cry was like a sharp knife piercing through the last vestiges of hesitation in everyone's hearts.

Grandpa Zeng closed his eyes, and two streams of tears rolled down his cheeks again. He nodded heavily, as if he had used up all his strength.

Li Weiguo took a deep breath of the cold air, his mouse trembling, and clicked on the video file named "[5 Months]".

On the big screen, the image flickered, showing a dark, rough place that resembled an abandoned factory workshop.

In the corner, there was a makeshift "nest" roughly enclosed by scrapped bulletproof plates, with several animal hides so dirty that their original color was no longer discernible.

A figure roughly pulled open the baby's swaddling clothes and, without hesitation, plunged a syringe into the baby's incredibly tender little bottom!

The movements were practiced, cold, and utterly appalling!

An unknown liquid was rapidly pushed in.

Almost instantly, the small body on the screen tensed up, like a bow stretched to its limit about to break.

Tiny blood vessels bulged and spread menacingly beneath his almost transparent skin, their color rapidly turning a terrifying bluish-purple.

The baby's mouth was open, and his neck was stretched back desperately, but he couldn't make a sound. Only his whole body was convulsing violently and silently!

His pupils rolled upwards uncontrollably, leaving almost only the whites of his eyes visible.

A detached voice was taking notes nearby, as if commenting on experimental data:

"Tolerance improved by 17.3%. There appear to be abnormal increases in bone density and muscle fiber."

"Very interesting...their basic skills far exceed expectations."

This inhuman torture lasted for nearly a minute before the small body suddenly relaxed, collapsing onto the filthy animal skin, its entire body soaked in cold sweat, as if it had just been pulled out of the water, with only faint, dying breaths remaining.

He unconsciously stuck out his little tongue and licked the corner of his mouth—perhaps there were still traces of fishy milk stains there, or perhaps blood and foam that he had bitten himself out in extreme pain.

"Oh dear—my son! My poor dragon boy!!!"

He Jing let out a mournful wail that sounded inhuman, and collapsed to the ground as if all her bones had been removed.

His body was curled up in a ball, convulsing violently, tears and saliva mixed together and flowed onto the floor.

Zeng Sheng, this iron-willed general, had his facial muscles twitching wildly as if in a spasm, and tears flowed silently yet surging forth.

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, drawing blood, and made a writhing, animal-like sound from his throat.

Zeng Lingyu (the younger sister) was already curled up in the chair, crying so hard that she covered her mouth with her hands and let out a suppressed sob.

The entire hall was shrouded in a suffocating atmosphere of grief and anger.

"Next!" Old Master Zeng abruptly turned his head away, unable to bear watching any longer, and squeezed out the order through gritted teeth, afraid that he would completely collapse if he looked at it again.

Li Weiguo's eyes were red as he struggled to click on "One Year Old".

In the video, the child's "crib" has been replaced from a "nest" in a corner with a rusty, cold metal box that was once used to store heavy machine gun bullets.

Words like "warm" and "comfortable" are completely foreign to this place.

All that can be seen are countless light-white scratches on the box wall, unconsciously dug out by tiny fingers.

Upon seeing this, He Jing's eyes rolled back and she fainted. Everyone scrambled to catch her.

"Continue!" Old Master Zeng's voice was hoarse, and he slammed his cane heavily on the ground.

[One and a half years old].

A deafening, heart-stopping metallic clang ripped through the silence.

It wasn't an alarm clock; it was a trainer who used a rusted iron pipe to smash hard onto the metal box where the child slept.

Get up! The sun's already high in the sky, and the kids are being dragged out like chicks.

The child suddenly woke up without crying or even showing any confusion.

The moment those dark eyes touched the cold ground, they regained their chilling clarity, and the body instinctively curled into a defensive posture.

"Let's do something fun today!"

The trainer grinned and dragged over an old truck tire that was almost as tall as a child.

"Push it around the training field! Don't stop! If you stop, it won't eat for three days."

The so-called training ground was a death zone filled with gravel, broken glass, and rusted iron pieces.

The child silently watched the huge tire, stretched out his little hand and pressed it against the rough rubber, pushing with all his might.

The tires remained completely still.

He used his tender shoulders to support himself, his little face turning red, his delicate skin instantly chafed and bleeding...

The video feed changes, and it should be afternoon now. In a corner of the training field, under a makeshift shelter made of old iron barrels and tattered canvas, a small figure is huddled up.

The child must have just endured the torment of "pushing a tire up a mountain of knives" and "drug resistance test" in the morning and has now gotten a short "rest" time.

Long-term malnutrition and extreme overwork made him much thinner and stronger than children his age.

But those eyes, as black as the deepest night, held no innocence, only a forced, beast-like vigilance and a cold, observant power.

He was wearing what appeared to be mercenary clothing: a worn-out T-shirt so dirty its original color was indistinguishable, draped over his body like a robe, the hem reaching his knees.

On his bare arms and calves, old and new scars were interspersed.

Some were abrasions.

Some of them were bruises from bumps and scrapes.

There are also some strange red rashes or tiny pinholes.

The child was watching several desert ants carrying a beetle carcass much larger than themselves in front of him.

It seemed to be his only form of entertainment. His gaze was focused, even with a research-like scrutiny, as if he were observing the microscopic world of the survival of the fittest and learning the rules of survival.

The sun was so hot that his scalp felt burning, and his lips were dry, cracked, and peeling from lack of moisture.

He stuck out his little tongue and licked his lips, tasting only the bitterness of the sand and the salty tang of his sweat...

"Don't let it go! Don't let it go!!"

He Jing and Zeng Lingyu, who had just been rescued, simultaneously let out heart-wrenching cries, their mental state having reached its limit.

Grandpa Zeng's lips trembled, his eyes bloodshot: "Next! Two and a half years old!"

Li Weiguo clicked on the next video almost numbly.

In the dimly lit, greasy corridor, a small, unsteady figure walked by.

Suddenly, a flash of cold light (a sharp stone shard) appeared in his hand, drawing a short, precise, and extremely ruthless arc towards a rat in the corner! "Pfft!" A very slight sound.

The rat didn't even have time to scream before its head was almost completely severed, with only a layer of skin connecting it. It collapsed limply, its limbs twitching twice before becoming still.

Dark red blood seeped silently into the ground.

The child remained kneeling in the same position as when he swung the stone, his small chest heaving as he gasped for breath.

At the tip of the stone, a drop of warm blood was slowly condensing and dripping down.

"ah--!!"

An elderly man, who was of the uncle generation, couldn't bear watching the video any longer and started pounding his chest.

Grandma Lin Fen, tears streaming down her face, slammed her cane against the ground and cried out:

"My grandson...! How did you even survive? God, why are you tormenting my grandson like this...!"

Li Weiguo, his hands trembling, turned off the video.

He looked at the Zeng family, almost begging them to stop.

But Grandpa Zeng seemed to have fallen into a state of obsession; he needed to know just how much suffering his grandson had endured. He gestured to click on "Seven Years Old".

In the video, older children are roughly thrown into a mud pit filled with mud, water, garbage, and broken glass.

He only let out a muffled groan the moment he came into contact with the mud and water, and a suppressed pain flashed in his dark eyes (the video notes show that he had a new injury on top of an old one).

Instead of crying, he suddenly lunged forward, plunging into the mud and water until only his mouth, nose, and eyes were visible. Then, like a crocodile adapted to the swamp, he used the strength of his elbows and knees to crawl forward through the mud!

The scene shifts, and it appears to be nighttime.

The child was speaking to three other children who were pale, thin, and had frightened eyes.

His voice was childish, but his tone was as cold as winter:

"There are no tears, no fear, no hunger or cold, no escape; only acceptance and endurance."

"If you put the food in your hand into your stomach, at least there's a cruel tomorrow ahead."

"If we don't eat it, there might not be another one tomorrow."

A little girl trembled with fear: "Big...big brother...when did you come in?"

A hint of confusion flashed across the child's innocent yet resolute face:

"I don't know. It's like I was born here, but it's also like I wasn't. I was already here when I could think and see the scenery before me."

The little girl continued to ask:

"Hey young man, are your parents here?"

The child's eyes looked even more confused at this moment:

"They're probably far away in the sky. I've never seen them, and I don't know if they have a father and mother."

He lowered his head, his eyes flashing with a cold light, as if they held an invisible, deepest longing and yearning.

Then he quickly retreated to his corner, his figure heartbreakingly lonely.

"Stop playing it! Please! Stop playing it...!" He Jing completely broke down, crying hysterically and lunging forward to try and block the screen.

I don't want to know about Long'er's upbringing anymore! I don't want to...!

I'm content as long as I know my Long'er is alive and where he is.

I can watch him silently, even if he is very far away, even if it's just his back or a profile.

Long'er's experience is my nightmare...!

He had no childhood, and his adolescence was spent in the flames of war.

I want him to live a peaceful life!

Even if he becomes a spoiled brat, that's fine.

I want to ensure he never has to experience any more hardship!

To be completely unharmed!

Anyone who dares to harm a single hair on his head!

I'll fight anyone who tries!

Her cries were desperate, filled with endless pain, guilt, and a mother's most primal protective instincts.

General Zeng finally closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face, his hand holding the cane trembling uncontrollably.

After a long while, he suddenly opened his eyes. Although there were still tears in his eyes, they had been replaced by an unquestionable determination and iron-blooded authority!

"Stop playing!" The old man's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a thunderclap that instantly suppressed all the pain and cries of sorrow.

The hall fell silent instantly, save for suppressed sobs.

General Zeng's gaze swept over every family member present as if it were a physical object, finally settling on Li Weiguo and Zeng Sheng.

"Defend the country!" The old general's voice was steady and powerful, carrying the authority of someone long accustomed to a high position and a slight, almost imperceptible tremor.

"Contact Baroque immediately! Be sincere."

"We are grateful to him for telling us the truth, and even more grateful to him... for saving this child and raising him to adulthood, although in a way that was never our wish!"

"Tell him that the Zeng family owes him a tremendous favor! The Zeng family will remember this debt!"

"Yes, old chief!" Li Weiguo replied immediately, his voice hoarse.

"Xiao Sheng!" The old man looked at his son.

"Dad!" Zeng Sheng immediately stood up straight, wiped away the tears on his face, and his eyes became like tempered steel, filled with determination and killing intent.

"You will take personal responsibility!" The old general's eyes were sharp as knives, and every word was firm and resolute.

"Use all available resources! But absolute secrecy is required."

"I want to know the exact location of my grandson, Zeng Linglong, the moment he sets foot on the land of the Dragon Kingdom."

"I must ensure his absolute safety!"

"Anyone who dares to cause him the slightest harm in this process is my mortal enemy!"

"They are the Zeng family's mortal enemy!"

"You are authorized to utilize the 'Dragon Blood' guards for the highest level of covert protection when necessary!"

"Dragon Blood?" Zeng Sheng and Li Weiguo were both startled!

This is the most elite and mysterious force protecting the capital region, responsible only to the highest levels!

The old general has used his ultimate trump card, raising the level of protection to an unprecedented peak!

"Yes! I guarantee I will complete the mission!" Zeng Sheng answered resolutely, his voice filled with unwavering determination.

"Finally," General Zeng's gaze fell back on the baby's photo on the screen, his voice becoming low and complex, with a barely perceptible tremor and a hint of caution.

"Regarding his identity..."

"Do not disclose this to the public for the time being."

"Including...to himself..."

"Take a look first, take a look at this child..."

"After going through so much..."

"Are you still willing to... acknowledge us...?"

The old man spoke the last few words with great difficulty, his voice filled with deep guilt and a near-desperate uncertainty.

After the ecstatic reunion with family came a heavier reality.

How do you deal with a "Zero" who grew up in purgatory and whose heart may have long been frozen?

How can we make up for the family ties that have been absent for eighteen years and are soaked in blood and tears?

The Zeng family found their lost bloodline, but also faced an unprecedented and emotionally difficult test.

But the storm has only just begun to brew.