# 382
Chapter 382
The Burning Application
“Deyang.” The old man looked Li Deyang up and down. “You all right?”
“Fine. What could be wrong?” Li Deyang grinned. “Actually, if I think about it, there is one bit of good news.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve been promoted.” Li Deyang chuckled. “Orders came down. I’m done being a forest ranger here; I’m off to camp to serve as a squad leader.”
“A squad leader? That’s wonderful! This place is freezing and falling apart—anywhere else is better.” The old man clapped his hands. “Where to?”
“Urumqi.”
“……”
The old man’s eyes bulged. “Urumqi? That’s way out west!”
“Yep.” Li Deyang nodded. “It’s far, but the climate’s decent, the army provides for you, and it’s a little rank. Beats freezing here.”
“That’s… awfully far…” The old man frowned, then something occurred to him. “Hold on—you’re just a forest ranger, not even proper military. How’d you suddenly get transferred to Urumqi as a squad leader?”
“Pulled a few strings. Don’t ask, Dad.”
“When do you leave?”
“Soon as I pack up. A couple days.”
“That urgent?” The old man hurried on, “Then Tingting and I’ll stay a bit longer and see you off.”
“We’re a confidential unit—no send-offs allowed.” Li Deyang said it seriously.
The old man froze, suspicious. “Deyang, your old man didn’t study much—don’t fool me. What kind of army doesn’t let family see their kid off?”
“See? That’s why you don’t know. Some units really do that now.” Li Deyang talked circles around him until the pair finally believed it.
“Daddy, are you going somewhere far?” Tingting tilted her head, reluctant. “Can I visit you?”
“Be good, sweetie. Daddy’s going to guard the border.” Li Deyang stroked her hair. “It’s very far—maybe you can’t come… but when you’re grown, Daddy will be back.”
The little girl thought. “When am I grown up?”
Li Deyang was silent a moment, then smiled. “The day it’s your turn to look after Grandpa, you’ll be grown.”
The girl nodded, half understanding.
Li Deyang checked the time, set Tingting down, and stood. “Dad, it’s about time. Let my men drive you to the station. With everything happening in the mountains lately, I’ve got to report to HQ.”
The old man didn’t want to leave, but when he heard “work,” he wrestled with it and finally nodded. “Then—then you get busy. Once you reach Urumqi, call home the first chance you get, you hear?”
“Got it, Dad. Don’t worry.”
Li Deyang waved. He gave the four outside a look; Baili Pangpang ambled up, hoisted the little girl, and sauntered out.
Once the old man and the girl were gone, the room fell silent.
Li Deyang turned. At some point Chen Han had a Straight Blade in hand, its tip leveled at Li Deyang’s nose, glinting coldly.
“You’re not Li Deyang.” Chen Han’s voice was certain. “Who are you?”
Li Deyang met his gaze; the next instant a shimmer of sorcery bloomed and he became Lin Qiye.
Chen Han watched, face darkening. “You people really are behind this—you killed Uncle Li?!”
Lin Qiye narrowed his eyes. Darkness crawled over Chen Han’s blade; it quivered violently, tore free, and buried itself in the ceiling.
“Night Watch, Anta County Team 332, Chen Han…” Lin Qiye drew a Coat of Arms. “I’m Lin Qiye, captain of the fifth special team’s reserve unit. It is my regret to inform you—
Team 332 Captain Li Deyang fell in battle against the Red-Armored Ant Queen.”
Chen Han stood frozen. He stared at the Coat of Arms; slowly his face went white.
“Impossible. I don’t believe it!” he shouted. “I’ve never heard of any fifth special team, let alone a reserve—your insignia’s fake! You murdered Uncle Li!”
“If I killed him, why bother doing everything you just saw?” Lin Qiye asked quietly.
Chen Han was struck silent.
Lin Qiye shook his head, walked to the door, and flung it open; night wind poured in.
“Before he died, Li Deyang asked me to pass a message.” He paused at the threshold. “From now on, Team 332 is yours… and the stash in his cabinet—put it to use.”
A flicker, and he vanished into the thickening dark.
Cold wind whined through the room. Chen Han stood motionless; the Straight Blade’s sheath slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor.
“Uncle Li…”
He turned stiffly to the desk, yanked open the cabinet—
Inside lay a neat drawer of hand-rolled cigarettes.
He stared, dazed, drew a long breath, pulled one out, clamped it between his lips, and walked mechanically into the wind.
He sat on the old doorstep, watching the sky sink into darkness, and took a folded sheet from his pocket, smoothing it open—
A transfer application.
A request to leave Team 332 for another city. Applicant: Chen Han.
He read every word, a self-mocking smile tugging at his lips. He flicked his lighter to a corner of the paper.
Click, click, click—
In the biting wind the flame finally caught. Fire crawled upward; black ash whirled away.
He watched calmly, then lowered the cigarette to the burning sheet, lighting it. Blue smoke curled…
He inhaled—and broke into harsh coughs.
“Cough, cough…” Cigarette wobbling, he sighed toward the sky, muttering only for himself,
“Uncle Li… your taste is awful.”
…
High above in the dark sky, Emperor Fengdu hovered, eyes fixed on the small house below, gaze piercing endless space to watch all that had passed.
He might have been carved from stone.
Beside him, the robed man smiled lightly.
“Well? Not a bad choice, is he?”
Emperor Fengdu watched the departing pair, silent a long while, then turned and walked into the distant dark.
On that usually stern face appeared a rare softness; the corner of his mouth lifted.
“I… owe that boy a favor.”