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

Dawn, Shijiagou Village.

The first pale rays of dawn finally managed to tear through the night.

At the village entrance, the scene was completely different.

A bustling crowd had gathered; apart from the bewildered children, the entire village, young and old, had turned out, and villagers from neighboring villages, having heard the news, were also arriving in droves to help. Shi Qinglie's mourning hall had been respectfully moved to the most open space at the village entrance. White banners hung low, and elegiac couplets stood solemnly.

Before the coffin, Tiezhu and Xiaoshiliu, dressed in rough hemp clothing, knelt side by side.

Tie Zhu's figure was like a silent black boulder, his arm stiff as iron each time he threw paper money into the fire pit. The flickering firelight reflected the dried bloodstains on his face, the lingering tear tracks, and the lifeless, solidifying magma deep in his eyes.

Little Pomegranate stood close to her brother, her lips still tightly pursed, her thin back ramrod straight, as if it would break at any moment, yet it possessed an astonishing resilience. She burned the paper offerings gently and slowly, her eyes vacantly fixed on the leaping flames, where her father's final face seemed to be reflected.

Sudden--

"Boom—!!!"

A faint tremor came from the ground! From afar, the deep and powerful roar of an engine, like muffled thunder from the depths of the earth, mixed with the howling of billowing dust, violently shattered the oppressive silence of the mountain village in the early morning!

Everyone looked up in astonishment at the only dirt road at the entrance of the village.

As far as the eye could see, smoke and dust billowed into the sky!

One, two, ten, dozens... Heavy military trucks covered in dark green military tarpaulins and painted with mottled camouflage patterns, like steel behemoths emerging from below the horizon, lined up in a majestic long dragon, stirring up clouds of yellow dust that blotted out the sky, and sped toward them with an unstoppable, crushing momentum!

"Squeak—! Squeak—!!"

A series of piercing, sharp brake screechs rang out, the heavy wheels carving deep tracks into the dirt road. The long convoy finally came to a neat, orderly stop on both sides of the village entrance path, as if undergoing a review, the low growl of the engines still lingering.

The next second—

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"Clang! Clang! Clang!"

The rear panel of the carriage was suddenly slammed down at the same time!

"Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!"

A short, sharp, and emotionless command rang out!

Their figures appeared like a floodgate being opened!

Fully armed soldiers—wearing helmets, combat uniforms, carrying standard assault rifles, and with their faces painted—leaped off the trucks in a dazzling display of agility, like dumplings being dropped into a pot!

"Bang! Bang! Bang!" The military boots landed heavily on the ground, raising a little dust.

Almost instantly upon landing, they automatically and swiftly assembled in shifts and platoons! Their movements were clean and efficient, without the slightest delay.

A cold, pure, and suffocating aura of death, mixed with the smell of steel and dust, instantly filled the entire village entrance!

The villagers, who had been busy just moments before, all stopped what they were doing. The men gaped, the women clutched their chests, and the children shrank behind the adults. Every face was filled with utter shock and bewilderment, as if they were on the set of an unreal war movie.

Zeng Long walked out from beside the mourning hall, followed closely by Xiao Ya and Tang Long.

The three men were also dressed in hemp clothing, but at this moment, the rough mourning clothes could not conceal the chilling aura emanating from Zeng Long, like a divine weapon unsheathed. He walked step by step to the front of the army, his steps steady, his eyes terrifyingly calm, staring directly at the silent steel jungle.

An officer with prominent epaulets strode up to Zeng Long, stood at attention, his body taut like a javelin.

"Excuse me, are you Comrade Zeng Long?" The officer's voice was loud and clear, like a striking bell.

Zeng Long nodded very slightly, so slightly that it was almost invisible, yet it carried immense weight.

The officer's pupils contracted slightly, and then he snapped to attention with a perfect salute, his arm making a whooshing sound as he stood at attention.

"Comrade Zeng Long! I am the battalion commander of the 2nd Battalion, XX Regiment, Northern Army District. I have been ordered to come and assist you, and will obey your every command!"

His voice was strong and clear, carrying far and wide in the quiet morning:

"The entire battalion was expected to have 380 men; 380 men are present!"

"Please give instructions!"

Zeng Long's gaze slowly swept over the battalion commander's resolute face, and over the dark, silent ranks of soldiers behind him.

There was no excitement in his eyes, only a cold scrutiny and... confirmation.

After a moment, he spoke, his voice not loud, but clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"Hard."

"Leave one company to clear all weeds and debris within a 500-meter radius of the village entrance and level the ground."

In addition, he pointed to Xiaoya and Tanglong behind him and arranged for twenty elite soldiers to follow them to capture the murderer.

"The remaining companies are responsible for perimeter security, blocking all entrances and exits, and no one is allowed to approach the mourning hall area without permission."

"Yes, sir!" The battalion commander saluted again, turned, and ran away, a series of orders being relayed in a lower, faster voice. The soldiers immediately sprang into action, like intricate gears starting to turn.

Twenty elite soldiers followed Xiaoya and Tang Long and quickly ran towards the helicopter.

"Okay! Okay!!"

The third grandfather pounded the ground forcefully with his cane, tears streaming down his face, his voice trembling yet filled with a triumphant excitement: "Qinglie! Qinglie! Can you see this?! Your family... your family has hope! There's hope!"

A few of the bolder young villagers gathered around, their voices trembling: "Third Grandpa... what has Xiaozhu been doing all these years? First, military helicopters, and now... now a whole battalion has arrived! How high a rank is that? It's terrifying!"

The third grandfather raised his wrinkled face, gazing at the brightening sky, a mixture of pride and sorrow in his eyes: "Qinglie... my good nephew... watch closely... your good son has truly returned... he will... he will definitely get justice for you! Blood debts... must be repaid in blood!"

Before he could finish speaking—

"Buzz—!!!"

From the village entrance path, the roar of engines, completely different yet equally impressive, echoed once again!

This time, it's the deep, powerful roar of the V8 and V12 engines!

Dust rose again.

A line of dozens of top-of-the-line luxury cars was visible:

Rolls-Royce, Bentley, Maybach, Mercedes-Benz S-Class, BMW 7 Series...

A long black dragon.

They converged like lightning.

With a sharp screech of brakes, it came to a steady stop on the outer edge of the military truck convoy.

"Bang bang bang bang..."

The sound of the car doors opening and closing was as dense as raindrops.

Hundreds of men and women, including CEOs and wealthy businessmen from all over the country.

They were dressed in expensive clothes and had an extraordinary air about them, but at this moment, their faces were all filled with heavy sorrow and urgency.

Most of them were middle-aged, and each of them had the aura of someone who had long held a superior position.

At this moment, however, they were under the watchful eyes of soldiers, with guards every five steps and sentries every ten steps, their guns cold and menacing.

With slightly hurried yet still courteous steps, they walked silently and resolutely toward the mourning hall where white banners fluttered.

Fang Rong had already changed back into a black suit (with a linen coat over it).

It stood like a guardian deity on one side of the entrance to the mourning hall.

His eyes were solemn, like cold stars.

Take a deep breath.

With a voice powerful enough for the entire audience to hear, possessing a penetrating quality akin to inner strength.

Shout out loud:

"Guests have arrived!"

"Family members—receive—the—gifts—!"

Zeng Long, Fang Rong, and Ye Feng stood side by side. Tie Zhu and Xiao Shi Liu slowly rose to their feet. The five of them formed a sorrowful yet majestic barrier.

Zeng Long's gaze swept past the approaching group of guests and met for a moment with the battalion commander of the Second Battalion, who was directing operations not far away.

Zeng Long didn't say anything, but simply raised his right hand and made a very brief but clear gesture in the air that said "raise a gun with one hand and shoot into the sky".

The battalion commander's eyes suddenly narrowed, and he instantly understood!

He whirled around, facing all the soldiers on guard, and roared hoarsely, "Attention everyone—! Change to blank rounds!"

"Whoosh—la la la—!"

A sickeningly precise, synchronized metallic scraping sound echoed throughout the entire area! Almost simultaneously, all the soldiers unloaded their live ammunition magazines and replaced them with specially made blank magazines, their movements so fast they were just blurs in the distance!

The battalion commander's face tightened. He strode to the front of the mourning hall, facing Shi Qinglie's coffin, straightened his chest, and with all his might shouted a command filled with boundless respect and grief:

"Everyone—yes!"

"Raise your gun!"

"Whoosh—!" More than three hundred assault rifles were raised at the same time, their muzzles pointing neatly at the gray sky, forming a desolate steel forest.

"To our guests—!"

"Fire!"

"Bang!!!!!!"

More than three hundred gunshots rang out, converging into a deafening roar that tore through the sky! The flashes of gunfire briefly illuminated the soldiers' resolute faces, and the sound wave, like a mournful, raging tide, surged into the heavens, as if to send Shi Qinglie's wronged soul directly to heaven!

The villagers were so shocked by this sudden, movie-like scene that they were completely stunned!

"Second opening—fire—!"

"Bang!!!!!!"

The second salvo followed immediately! The sound was even heavier, carrying a resolute determination as if they were about to destroy everything in their lives, as if they wanted to blast all the resentment, anger, and repression of the deceased into the cold void!

The villagers could no longer contain themselves.

Someone burst into tears.

Some people, recalling Shi Qinglie's honest and simple life, covered their faces and sobbed.

Some people looked at Li Yingxiu and Xiao Shiliu's lonely figures and desperately wiped away their tears that they could not stop wiping away;

Some people, gazing at Tie Zhu's upright figure, which seemed to bear the weight of a blood feud, felt a complex mix of fear, pride, and sorrow, and wept uncontrollably.

"Three-way fire!"

"Bang!!!!!!"

The third chorus resounded, shaking the heavens and the earth!

The sound transcended the sound itself.

It was like the roar of the earth.

It is the roar of justice.

It is a tearful accusation from the children.

It carried Shi Qinglie's final despair and endless injustice, crashing down on the land where he lived and died, vowing to seek justice.

The echoes of gunfire lingered in the valley for a long time.

After standing at attention for a moment, the battalion commander roared, "Salute complete! Put away your weapons! Remain on guard!"

The soldiers silently lowered their guns, their eyes sharper than before, as if the gunshots had bound them firmly to this funeral and this blood feud.

At this moment, the hundreds of wealthy businessmen and celebrities had solemnly walked to the altar in front of the mourning hall.

Leading the group was an elderly man in his sixties, exuding an imposing presence. He was none other than Ren Kuotian, the richest man in Beilu Province and chairman of Tianfa Group.

With a somber expression, he walked to the ceremonial table covered with a white cloth, picked up a brush, and solemnly wrote his name and title on the funeral book.

The old village chief of Shijiagou Village, who was in charge of the ceremony, picked up the paper with trembling hands. When he saw the handwriting clearly, his eyes widened, his hands shook like leaves in the wind, and he swallowed several times before finally managing to speak into the microphone in a shaky, stuttering voice:

"Guests...guests! Chairman Dong...Chairman Ren...General Manager Ren of Tianfa Group, Beilu Province! Let's offer incense!"

"Family members—offer—incense—!"

Tie Zhu stepped forward, held out his hands, and respectfully presented three lit sticks of thick incense to Ren Kuotian. His movements were precise and heavy, and his eyes briefly met Ren Kuotian's—there was no flattery in his eyes, only a bottomless sorrow.

Ren Kuotian accepted the incense with both hands, nodded slightly, his eyes filled with complex emotions, and turned to walk towards the incense burner.

"Wow! It really is him! Ren Kuotian! I've seen him on the financial channel on TV!" In the crowd, a young man with a bit more experience finally couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice.

"Look at the man behind President Ren! Isn't he... isn't he the richest man in Heihe Province? Chairman Hu Qingyi of Lida Group?" The people next to him also got excited, pointing to another middle-aged man with an extraordinary demeanor who was writing with a pen.

"My God... Am I dreaming? Uncle Qinglie's son... what is his background?" A middle-aged villager muttered to himself, looking at the endless stream of luxury cars and the solemn figures who only appeared in newspapers and on television. He felt that everything in front of him was so unreal, yet so real, impacting his limited understanding.

The morning light finally shone down completely.

It illuminated the imposing army, the valuable convoy, the undried tear stains on the villagers' faces, and the black incense burner in front of the mourning hall, with the incense burning silently and gradually piling up inside.

The funeral has only just begun.

The gears of revenge have been officially fastened amidst the sound of gunfire.