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

Whoosh! The moment Yan Ruge heard these verses that sounded like they came from the depths of hell, she was struck by lightning. She couldn't help but take several steps back, her footing unsteady, and she almost fell to the ground!

These few words, each one filled with tears and sorrow, were as if she had witnessed it herself!

I saw that thin, helpless child struggling in endless darkness!

I saw the wounds all over his body, I saw the despair of him swallowing blood and tears, I saw his innocent eyes that were filled with pain and confusion!

I saw his eyes, which had become empty and desolate year by year, hidden beneath his tattered clothes!

As he gazed at the starry sky, how silently he must have cried out, how desperately he must have asked—why am I here?

What's my name? My parents... and where are they?!

Yan Ruge's tears, like a flood bursting its banks, surged forth instantly, flowing freely across her usually cold and elegant face. Each drop seemed to carry the blood from her heart!

Zeng Long didn't look at her. At this moment, his defenses seemed to have completely collapsed, and the memories of the past surged like a flood that had burst its banks, unstoppable.

He shook his head frantically, as if trying to banish these painful images from his mind.

However, those past scenes, like a cruel movie that couldn't be turned off, appeared more clearly in his mind, frame by frame—

An abyss-like environment, a purgatory-like ordeal, devoid of warmth, devoid of childhood, even dreams are filled with life-or-death crises!

Why must he be the one to endure all this cruelty?!

The immense suffering brought about by the mystery of his origins, the unyielding hatred towards the unknown mastermind, the truth about his bloodline upon returning home, the cautious yet even more painful care from his loved ones, the tangled mess of inner conflict and contradictions...

And then there was the deafening artillery fire amidst the chaos of war, the unwilling looks in the eyes of comrades falling one by one... Tie Zhu, Ye Feng, Xiao Ya, and all the members of Zero Squad followed him to the death without ever abandoning him...

After returning home, he faced a series of blows and targeting... his heart was filled with unquenchable passion and anger...

To protect the unwavering belief of those around them... for all the injustices they suffered in their tragic past...

And, as a leader, the heavy responsibility and the passion to lead the brothers who trust him to the top of the world...

All the emotions, all the images, all the pain and power, intertwined, collided, and boiled at this moment, ultimately converging into an unstoppable torrent!

Zeng Long took a deep drag on the cigarette butt that had burned to the end, until the hot filter almost burned his lips!

Then, he inhaled that last puff of smoke, which was spicy and bitter, along with all the pent-up emotions in his chest, deep and completely into his lungs!

He suddenly raised his head, facing the vast and indifferent starry sky, and let out a roar as powerful as a wounded lone wolf! Within that roar was his vow and declaration of rebirth:

"The abyss has become a common sight, why bother distinguishing between bitterness and sorrow! The wind blows and leaves fall, the trees are heartless, a desolate shadow falls upon this world! A broken body is etched with dragon patterns, etching the bonds of life and kinship!"

I dare to borrow the ink from the clouds of heaven to paint the landscape and hold it in my hand!

Amidst the chaos of war, a young man arrives, alone with his sword, gazing towards the distant sky…!

The latter half of the poem is like a phoenix rising from the ashes, with a sudden and dramatic change in style!

It is no longer just a lament about suffering, but is full of a defiant and unyielding spirit after being reborn from the ashes, and a magnificent and domineering spirit that wants to control its own destiny!

He regarded the bottomless abyss as something perfectly ordinary, and was no longer troubled or entangled by suffering!

He regarded the numerous scars on his body as the markings of a dragon, deeply etching his identity and the entanglements with his family!

He was determined to use the vast sky as his canvas, the white clouds as his ink, and his own hands to paint his own magnificent map of the land!

Even if this road is fraught with the flames of war, even if he is all alone with only a sharp sword in his hand, he will hold his head high, question the heavens, and resolutely forge his own path to heaven!

Yan Ruge stood there, stunned, letting the cold wind brush against her face.

She watched the tall figure howling at the sky in the night, as if pouring out all his pain and resentment, and unconsciously, softly repeated the two complete verses:

Born without knowing where I am, orphaned and ravaged by the wind. Holding a black steamed bun, I swallow bitterness, tears of blood streaming down my face.

Scars crisscrossed his childhood body, his thin, childlike eyes filled with pain and confusion. His childhood was marked by tattered clothes, year after year his eyes grew barren…

The abyss has become a common sight; why bother distinguishing between bitterness and desolation? The wind blows, leaves fall, and the trees are heartless; a desolate shadow falls upon this world!

A broken body etched with dragon patterns, marking the bonds of life and kinship!

"Dare to borrow the ink of the heavens' clouds, and paint the landscape in my hand! Amidst the flames of war, a young man arrives, alone with a sword, gazing at the distant sky..."

She finally understood from the poem, as if a mysterious veil had been lifted, revealing Zeng Long's unbearable past.

What a living hell it was! Mountains of corpses and seas of blood, an endless abyss, every step was filled with death and despair.

However, Zeng Long struggled tenaciously in this hellish place, crawling step by step with great difficulty.

He groped in the darkness with his own hands and feet, moving forward in pain, and finally crawled out of that terrible place.

Today, he possesses unwavering integrity and extraordinary abilities, all of which he earned through countless hardships and sacrifices.

His heart was as hard as steel; no matter how great the setbacks or injustices he encountered, they could not defeat him.

It was this inner strength that allowed him to endure so much suffering without being defeated, and instead to cultivate an ambition and spirit that looked down upon the world.

He was like a king who had crawled out of the deepest part of hell, exuding unparalleled majesty and domineering aura.

He is a natural leader, possessing the ability and charisma to guide others.

His existence is like that of a truly indomitable dragon, soaring high in the heavens, overlooking all things in the world.

The night remained deep. The cold wind remained biting.

But in this cold world, that proud figure standing there, and those verses echoing in the night sky, a mixture of blood, tears, and heroic spirit, seemed to ignite an inextinguishable flame, burning and dazzling.