[Two Weeks After Teleportation]
Lujing Village
For ten days, Long Wei's world had been the four walls of Healer Chen's hut. For the next four, it was a small paradise he had never known.
Supported by a sturdy oak crutch, he began to explore Lujing Village. For the first time in his life, Long Wei was not on a mission. He wasn't infiltrating, scouting, or preparing an attack. He was... just walking.
And it was the strangest sensation.
His mind, trained since adolescence to dissect the world into threats, targets, and kill zones, was now presented with sights it couldn't process.
He saw children. They weren't in formation or drilling martial arts. They were laughing, chasing scrawny dogs and chickens, playing at skipping stones in the river. They were dirty, noisy, and... happy.
He saw women. They weren't assembling munitions or operating comms. They sat under a large tree, weaving cloth on complex hand-looms, or washing clothes by the river while gossiping. Their laughter was crisp.
He saw men. They weren't patrolling a perimeter. They were in the fields, plowing with thin oxen, repairing thatch roofs, or hammering metal in a simple smithy.
The air didn't smell of cordite, diesel, or fear. It smelled of firewood, cooking ginger, livestock manure, and damp pine.
This was peace.
Absolute, primitive, and pure. Something he had only ever read about in history books or seen in films he considered boring. For him, "peace" had always meant "the time between wars." Now, he realized, for these people, "peace" was life.
His commander's instincts had gone dormant. He was still Lieutenant Colonel Long Wei, but that side of him had been shoved into the furthest corner of his mind. What remained on the surface was "Long-dage"—the strange recovering man, learning a new language like a child.
He was even beginning to... enjoy the routine.
In the morning, Chen Yue would come to the medicine hut, where he still slept, to change his bandages.
"'Morning, Long-dage," Chen Yue said that morning, carrying a basin of warm water and clean linens.
"'Morning, Yue-meimei," Long Wei replied. His accent was still stiff, but his vocabulary was expanding rapidly.
He sat on the stool as Chen Yue skillfully unwrapped the bandage on his left arm. The wound, which should have taken months to heal, was now just an angry pink scar. His recovery speed was the only thing that reminded him he was no longer entirely human.
"You... heal... fast," Chen Yue said, her voice slightly awed as she applied a herbal salve. "Father says... you... blessed... by Gods."
"I don't... believe... Gods," Long Wei replied, repeating a conversation they often had. "I believe... good... medicine. And... good... healer."
Chen Yue's face flushed slightly. "You... learn... fast."
"I am... serious."
"That's... what... makes it... funny," Chen Yue giggled. She tied off the new bandage.
Long Wei frowned. "I am not... funny."
"You are funny," Chen Yue insisted, her eyes dancing. "You are the most serious man I have ever met. You drink tea as if you are planning a war. You eat congee as if it is a mission."
Long Wei didn't know what to say. He had never considered how he ate congee. His genius brain, which could calculate artillery ballistics, was completely baffled as to how to respond to a simple tease.
He decided on silence. This was tactical terrain he did not understand.
As Chen Yue was packing up her tools, the sound came.
A scream.
Not the playful shout of a child. But a scream of pure panic.
"THEY'RE COMING! THE YELLOW WOLVES ARE COMING!"
A young man, who should have been guarding the fields, sprinted into the village center, his face pale with terror.
In an instant, the peace Long Wei had just begun to savor... shattered.
Like glass struck by a hammer, the village's calm atmosphere disintegrated.
The children who had been laughing were now screaming in fear, running for their mothers. The women who had been gossiping were now shrieking, pulling their children into huts and barring flimsy wooden doors. The men who had been farming were now running from the fields, their faces tight, grabbing the hoes and bamboo spears that leaned against the walls.
The air, once peaceful, now vibrated with a thick, tangible fear.
Long Wei stood instinctively, his oak crutch gripping the earth. The pain in his nearly-healed ribs flared, a sudden reminder of his weakness.
"Who?" he asked Chen Yue.
The girl's face had lost all its color. She was trembling violently, the wooden basin in her hands crashing to the floor. "Bandits," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "The Yellow Wolves. They... take... our... share. Every... three months."
Tribute. Extortion.
The words felt alien in this peaceful world, but devastatingly familiar to Long Wei. It was the most basic form of warfare. The war between the strong and the weak.
From the end of the village path, the sound of hooves grew loud.
Fifteen men appeared.
Long Wei's mind, dormant, now began to spin. Slow at first, then faster. Threat detected.
Five mounted. Ten on foot. Leader (mounted, largest) has leather armor and a steel sword—a real weapon. Several carry bows. Rest are spears and machetes. Organized.
Long Wei pulled Chen Yue, who was frozen in fear, behind him, into the shadow of the medicine hut's doorway.
"Get in," he commanded.
"But Father..."
"Get in. Now." His tone was different. This was no longer "Long-dage" learning a language. This was the tone of a Lieutenant Colonel.
Chen Yue, shocked by the authority in his voice, stumbled backward into the hut's darkness.
Healer Chen, as the village elder, stepped forward. Chen Fu stood at his side, the axe in his hand trembling—half from rage, half from fear. The other villagers gathered behind them, a pathetic line.
The bandit leader stopped his horse directly in front of Healer Chen. He was a large, brutal man with a scar on his cheek that made him look like he was always grinning. One of his eyes was milky white.
"Payday, Old Man Chen!" he boomed, his voice hoarse. "I am Ma Gou, and I've come for the Yellow Wolves' tribute!"
"Lord Ma Gou," Healer Chen said, his voice trying to remain calm. "We honor your protection. But... the harvest was poor this year. The rains came late. We... we can only give half the usual."
Ma Gou snorted. He spat on the ground. "Half?!" He kicked a nearby basket of vegetables, scattering them. "Do I look like a beggar, old man?! We're the ones who kept the real Yellow Turbans away from your shitty huts! Protection isn't cheap!"
The other bandits laughed. They began to spread out, kicking doors, terrorizing chickens.
In the shadows, Long Wei watched. He remained silent. He was still injured. His weapons—the M4, his sidearm, his combat knives—were all safely hidden by Healer Chen under the hut's floorboards. He couldn't do anything.
Not my mission, he told himself. Not my fight. I'm tired of war. I just found peace.
"We beg you," Healer Chen bowed. "We will make it up in the next harvest..."
"To hell with the next harvest!" Ma Gou growled. His wandering, mismatched eyes swept the crowd... and stopped.
He saw Chen Yue, peering anxiously from behind the doorway of the hut.
Ma Gou's grin changed. It became something dirty and oily. "Hmm. Maybe your grain harvest was poor, old man..." he said, slowly dismounting. "But it looks like other harvests in this village... are in full bloom."
He walked straight toward the medicine hut.
"Stop!" Chen Fu roared, raising his axe and stepping between Ma Gou and the hut.
Ma Gou didn't even blink. One of his lieutenants, a wiry man with shifty eyes, swung his spear haft. The blunt end struck Chen Fu in the stomach with a sickening THWACK.
"Urghk!"
Chen Fu dropped to his knees, coughing, his axe falling to the dirt.
"CHEN FU!" Healer Chen cried, rushing to his son's side.
"FATHER! BROTHER!" Chen Yue screamed, running out of the hut to help them.
A fatal mistake.
Ma Gou grinned and caught her. His filthy hand seized her arm. "Now, now, little girl. Don't run."
"LET ME GO!" Chen Yue struggled, hitting the bandit's chest.
"Stop! Please!" Healer Chen begged, half-crawling. "Take all the grain! Take everything! But let my daughter go!"
"Too late, old man," Ma Gou laughed, pulling Chen Yue closer. He sniffed her hair. "She smells good. A lot better than your musty grain. Maybe you can pay your debt this way. She'll keep me and my men warm for a few nights, and I'll forget about the other half of the grain."
He began dragging the crying, struggling Chen Yue toward his horse.
And inside Long Wei's head, something snapped.
The false peace shattered. The illusion vanished.
He saw a tyrant.
He saw the helpless.
He saw the girl who had tended his wounds, who had laughed with him, who had patiently taught him the word "bowl," who had called him "funny"—now being dragged off like an animal.
The "not my mission" mantra broke.
He remembered General Tano. He remembered the betrayal. He remembered what it felt like when the strong oppressed the weak for their own gain.
This was no longer about the Three Kingdoms or ancient China. This wasn't about ambition.
This was about justice.
Long Wei stepped out from the shadow of the hut, his oak crutch grating softly on the dirt.
He was a strange sight. A pale man, clearly recovering from injury, wearing an oversized farmer's cotton robe, leaning on a stick.
But his eyes...
His eyes were no longer sleepy with peace. They were chips of ice. They were the eyes of a Lieutenant Colonel acquiring a target. Cold, emotionless, and lethal.
"Stop."
The word was quiet. Clipped. The accent was strange. But it cut through the sobs and the laughter of the bandits like a subsonic bullet.
Everyone froze.
Ma Gou stopped. He turned, still holding Chen Yue. He saw Long Wei. He looked him up and down. An invalid.
"What did you say, carcass?" Ma Gou laughed, but the laugh was strained.
Long Wei took one more step. He ignored the other 14 bandits. He ignored the bows now aimed at him. His entire world narrowed to a single point: Ma Gou's hand on Chen Yue's arm.
"Let... her... go," Long Wei said. Each word was spoken with measured emphasis.
"Let her go?" Ma Gou laughed out loud. The other bandits joined in. "Or what, cripple? You'll hit me with your stick?"
Long Wei didn't smile. He didn't move. He just stared into Ma Gou's eyes—the good one, not the blind one.
"I... will... kill you."
The laughter died in Ma Gou's throat.
It wasn't a threat.
It was a diagnosis.
This pale man leaning on a stick had just informed him that he was a dead man. There was no anger in his voice. No fear. Just absolute, clinical certainty. As if he were stating that the sun would rise tomorrow.
Ma Gou, a veteran of dozens of brutal fights, felt the hair on his arms stand up. He'd seen that look before—in the eyes of a starving wolf just before it lunged.
Damn. This man was mad. Or he was something else.
A tense silence hung over the village. The bandits, so bold a moment ago, now held their weapons a little tighter, their eyes fixed on the strange invalid.
Ma Gou was a leader. He couldn't lose face. But he also wasn't a fool. Something about this man made him deeply uncomfortable.
He made a split-second decision.
With a snarl, he roughly shoved Chen Yue backward. The girl fell to the ground near her father.
"Control your mad dog, Healer!" Ma Gou spat, quickly climbing back onto his horse. He felt the need to have the last word.
He pointed at Chen Yue. "I'll take the half-tribute today! But I'll be back! At the full moon! And I want all your grain, plus... her!"
Then he pointed at Long Wei, his blind eye twitching. "And you... make sure you're dead by the time I get back. Or I'll skin you myself!"
Ma Gou spun his horse and galloped out of the village. His men, looking visibly relieved not to have fought, scrambled after him, some of them grabbing sacks of grain on the way out.
Lujing Village was quiet again. Only the sounds of Chen Yue's sobs and Chen Fu's groans could be heard.
Healer Chen rushed to his daughter, his body trembling. The entire village was staring at Long Wei with a mixture of gratitude, confusion, and... overwhelming fear.
"Son," Healer Chen whispered, his face pale. "What... what have you done?"
Long Wei ignored their gazes. He limped to Healer Chen, the pain in his ribs pulsing with the fading adrenaline. He looked straight into the old healer's eyes. His cold, Lt. Colonel's eyes met the terrified healer's.
"The full moon," Long Wei said, his voice flat. "When?"
Healer Chen trembled. "Fif... fifteen days. Two weeks from now."
Long Wei nodded once.
The peace was false. His mind was now clear. There is no peace without strength.
He turned, no longer looking at the people. For the first time, he truly saw Lujing Village. He saw the flimsy fences. He saw the open-ended paths. He saw the total lack of walls. He saw the men holding hoes with shaking hands.
The Commander had returned.
He limped back to the medicine hut.
Chen Yue looked up from her father's arms. "Long-dage... you saved me..."
Long Wei paused at the doorway, but didn't turn around.
"Fifteen days," he said to all of them, and to himself. His genius brain was now fully active. "That is enough."