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

Four o'clock in the morning, Shijiagou Village.

The deathly silence of the night sky was abruptly shattered by a deafening roar that seemed to tear through the air as it approached from afar.

The sound was like the roar of a giant beast, shattering the slumbering tranquility of the mountain village.

Under Li Weiguo's orders, Chen Zheng and Lu Xiao had already lit several bonfires in a relatively open field at the entrance of the village.

The towering flames leaped wildly in the darkness, becoming the most primitive and clearest landing beacon.

The roar woke up the entire village.

The wooden door creaked, and lights flickered on intermittently.

The old man put on his coat, the young man was startled awake, and the child, rubbing his sleepy eyes, was carried out... Villagers flocked from all directions, gathering around the firelight, filled with astonishment and fear, all looking up at the source of the roar that seemed to devour the stars and moon.

In the night sky, a huge black silhouette, like a steel-clad ferocious bird, broke through the clouds and slowly descended under the blinding beams of searchlights.

The violent airflow whipped up by the propellers suppressed the flames, making it impossible to open one's eyes and causing clothes to flutter wildly.

"Bang!"

The landing gear hit the ground heavily.

The hatch opened with a "whoosh".

The first to leap out was Tie Zhu.

The flames instantly shone on his face, illuminating a face contorted with extreme anger and urgency. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw muscles were taut like rocks, and his breathing was heavy, as if a volcano about to erupt was trapped in his chest.

Zeng Long followed closely behind.

His face was expressionless, only possessing a deep, icy coldness. His gaze swept across the crowds and villages, sharp as a knife, and wherever it passed, the air seemed to freeze.

Xiaoya, Ye Feng, Fang Rong, Tang Long... the elites of the training camp filed out, their movements swift and silent, carrying a chilling aura of killing intent.

As the last team member landed, Fang Rong uttered only one word, short and forceful:

"Disperse!"

"Whoosh—whoosh—whoosh—"

A dozen figures dressed in black combat uniforms, like melting ink drops, scattered instantly, silently disappearing into the darkness in different directions of the village.

The villagers had never seen anything like it.

The perfectly synchronized movements, the chilling and murderous aura, and especially the almost tangible coldness emanating from Tie Zhu and Zeng Long, made every villager present hold their breath, their faces filled with tension and fear, and they involuntarily took a half step back.

At this moment, the crowd parted slightly.

The old man who had once guided Chen Zheng, leaning on his cane, walked forward shakily. His cloudy eyes strained to make out Tie Zhu's face, and his aged voice trembled with uncertainty:

"You...you...you are...Little Pillar?"

"Little Pillar..."

These three words, like a rusty key, suddenly unlocked the door to Tie Zhu's memories that had been sealed for over a decade.

Tie Zhu's body trembled, his bloodshot eyes focusing on the old man's deeply lined face. His memory was hazy, but the familiar local accent struck him directly in the heart.

The old man took another step closer, scrutinizing him carefully, his voice gradually becoming more certain: "You must be Xiao Zhuzi... You bear some resemblance to Qinglie... Do you remember me? I'm your third grandfather... the third grandfather your father often brought you to my house for meals... Oh... you always said my pancakes weren't as good as your mother's..."

"Third...Third Grandfather!"

Tie Zhu let out a low, choked growl. In the furious crimson of his eyes, a faint but real glimmer of light suddenly appeared, belonging to "Shi Xiaozhu".

"Thump!"

He slammed his knees heavily onto the cold, muddy ground and knelt before the old man.

"Third Grandfather! It's me, Xiaozhu! I...I'm back!" His voice was hoarse, filled with immense regret.

"Good...good...good!" Grandfather San, tears streaming down his face, pounded his withered hands on Tiezhu's broad, mountain-like shoulders. "It's good that he's back! It's good that he's back!" He raised his head, looked at the dark, starless night sky, and cried out hoarsely, "Qinglie! Look! Your son is back! He's back—!"

"Go! Go! Go!" Third Grandfather suddenly pulled Tiezhu up, his voice urgent, "Go see your father! Hurry! Your father... he hasn't closed his eyes! He definitely wants to see you! He's waiting to see you...!"

The iron pillar seemed to spring up, suddenly standing upright.

Chen Zheng immediately led the way in silence.

With each step, the familiar sights struck Tie Zhu's nerves hard. The crooked old trees, the mottled stone walls, the narrow alleys... The faded memories in his mind became incredibly clear and incredibly painful as he approached.

Until, the mud-brick house that he remembered as still intact came into his view in a dilapidated and desolate state.

Dim yellow light seeped out from the open door.

At the entrance, an old woman with a hunched back and disheveled hair stood there, holding the hand of a thin little girl tightly, like two sculptures frozen in the cold wind.

Just one glance.

Just one glance.

Tie Zhu's massive body, as if all its tendons and bones had been removed, collapsed to its knees with a thud.

"Thump!!!"

The dull thud of the knee hitting the ground sent a shiver down everyone's spine.

He looked up at his mother, Li Yingxiu—her face, more than twenty years older than he remembered, her back bent by the weight of life, her hands, calloused and cracked, still clearly visible even in the dim light…

"Thump! Thump! Thump!..."

Tie Zhu began to kowtow desperately, his forehead slamming against the ground with each dull, desperate thud.

Then, kneeling on his knees, he moved forward with difficulty, one step at a time. The rough ground tore through his trousers and knees, leaving faint marks. In his eyes was only his mother's figure; the world shrank to this short but seemingly endless "road."

Finally, he knelt down to his mother's feet.

He looked up, his face already streaked with tears, mixed with dust and blood seeping from his forehead.

"Mother...Mother! Your unfilial son is back...Your little Zhuzi...is back!!!" The roar tore out from the deepest part of his heart, carrying the pain of eleven years of separation.

Li Yingxiu trembled violently all over.

Her calloused, knuckle-covered hands trembled as she slowly reached for Tie Zhu's face. Her fingertips touched that warm, moist, familiar contour…

It was the face she had touched countless times in her dreams, but which was empty when she woke up.

It was the face that she and her husband had painstakingly searched for, traveling thousands of miles to find.

"Smack!!!"

Without warning, she used all her strength to slap her son hard across the face!

The sound was crisp and clear, especially startling in the quiet night.

Immediately afterwards, she lunged forward and hugged Tiezhu's head tightly, as if she wanted to meld him back into her body.

"My son...ah!!! My son!!!" Eleven years of pent-up tears, anxiety, despair, and longing erupted like a torrent at this moment. "Where have you been all these years?! Your father and mother have searched for you so desperately! Your father is gone...why are you only coming back now?! Why are you only coming back now—!!"

She wailed and sobbed, frantically tearing and pounding at the back of Tiezhu's clothes with her hands, which had toiled her entire life. It wasn't a beating; it was a mother's overwhelming grief, a desperate protest against the injustice of fate, and an outpouring of the extreme pain of regaining what she had lost only to lose it forever!

Little Pomegranate, standing to the side, kept her lower lip tightly clenched.

She didn't cry, and she didn't call out for her brother.

Her body was taut like a fully drawn bow, her teeth were clenched, and her eyes burned with a cold, piercing hatred and pain that was beyond her years.

Suddenly, she took a step forward, and with all her might, she screamed angrily at the kneeling iron pillar:

"Father is dead! You...do you know?! Father...is...dead—!"

"My father was beaten to death!!!!"

Each word was like a poisoned icicle, piercing the heart of the iron pillar.

"When Father died... he was still calling your name! He was calling your name!" Shi Liu's tears finally streamed down her face, but her voice became even more shrill, "Why did you come back?! Why did you come back now...?! Father won't come back! He won't come back!! Do you know how desperate Father was when he died?! Do you know... anything?!"

"ah--!!!"

Tie Zhu let out a wild, inhuman howl, tears streaming down his face. He shoved his mother away from his embrace and began pounding his chest with his fists, making muffled thuds as if trying to crush his heart, which was pounding with pain.

Then, he turned into the house, and once again, he knelt down with each step and kowtow, crawling towards the door that emitted a faint light and an aura of death...

threshold.

He saw it.

On the earthen bed, covered with an old, thin quilt, lay a motionless, stiff, and cold silhouette.

Tiezhu stopped in front of the kang (a heated brick bed), faced his father's body, and kowtowed three times, his head hitting the ground with great force.

"Thump! Thump! Thump!"

Blood gushed from the wound on his forehead, mixing with his torrent of tears, "drip...drip..." splashing onto the cold ground, blooming into dark red flowers.

He slowly and with great difficulty stood up, as if he were carrying an immense weight.

His gaze fell on his father, Shi Qinglie's face.

On that ashen face, the eyes were wide open, the pupils already dilated, yet frozen with an extreme pain, resentment, and...despair. Staring straight at the roof, it seemed to be questioning the heavens, or perhaps waiting for something.

Tie Zhu's chest began to heave violently, like a broken bellows.

He shook his head frantically, making strange "hoarse" sounds in his throat.

"Father...Father...Father—!"

He suddenly laughed.

"Ha...haha...hahaha..."

The laughter rose in pitch, filled with endless desolation, bone-chilling sorrow, and overwhelming rage. Before this mourning hall, this laughter was more chilling and heart-wrenching than any weeping.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

Tie Zhu suddenly turned around.

His bloodshot eyes, streaked with tears of blood, like those of a demon returned from hell, stared intently at Zeng Long, who had just entered. His face was contorted with extreme emotion, yet his voice possessed a terrifying, chilling calm:

"Boss."

"I want to kill."

"I want to... kill them all." The last few words were uttered slowly and deliberately, through gritted teeth, each one laced with the taste of blood.

Zeng Long remained silent.

He walked straight to the kang (a heated brick bed), knelt down solemnly, and respectfully kowtowed three times to Shi Qinglie's remains.

Ye Feng, Xiao Ya, Fang Rong, and Tang Long followed closely behind, kneeling in silent worship.

After the ceremony, Zeng Long stood up. His face remained expressionless, but the chill in his eyes was enough to freeze one's soul.

He spoke, his voice carrying an undeniable coldness and decisiveness that pierced the sorrowful air of the mourning hall:

"Xiaoya, you and Tang Long work together, using all available resources to find out the whole truth as quickly as possible. Find out all their crimes, or at least crimes that could get them killed. I want to see the mastermind and the main perpetrators kneeling here before noon."

"Fang Rong, you are fully responsible for Uncle Shi's funeral and arrangements."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faint figures of villagers outside the door. "Proceed with the highest standards, at any cost."

"Teng Ao will arrive later. He will bring plenty of cash."

"You will work with him to arrange the funeral."

"At the same time, under the guise of 'rewarding the villagers for their assistance,' NT$100,000 was distributed to each household in the village."

"Give each household in the town that comes to help to receive 10,000 yuan in cash."

"I want the whole village and the whole town to send Uncle Shi off in style."

Finally, his gaze fell back on Tie Zhu, who seemed on the verge of collapsing or going berserk.

"Pillar."

Zeng Long's voice was resolute, each word carrying immense force and a blood-soaked promise:

"Don't worry."

"I will make the murderer pay with his life for Uncle Shi."

"I'll let you take your own revenge."

Inside the mourning hall, the candlelight flickered suddenly.

Outside, the wind was even colder in the early morning.