Chapter 1: I Am Second Artillery

A rather rustic name: Chen Erpao. His father is called Chen Dapao. Although Erpao might seem a bit simple, he is far stronger than Dapao ever was. Now, in China, the name is known to all, for "Erpao" stands for the country's strategic missile forces.

Though his name was unimpressive, his nickname was resounding. During his service in a certain special forces unit, the name "Mad Wolf" was renowned across the military. He won the army-wide championships in hand-to-hand combat, marksmanship, and physical fitness three years in a row. If he had wanted to, he could have made his way to Beijing and even become a bodyguard in Zhongnanhai. And if some rich, beautiful heiress had taken a liking to him, who knows how many men would have been green with envy.

He should have had a glorious life. Before turning thirty, he might have made it to Major—a respectable achievement with two bars and a star on his epaulet. But fate had other plans. On the tenth anniversary of his enlistment, he was assigned a major mission—working with the National Narcotics Police to launch a sweeping crackdown on drug lords across the country.

For half a year, dozens of gunfights erupted both inside and outside the country, with hundreds of armed drug traffickers killed. More than a dozen major drug lords were arrested or killed. Naturally, the special forces unit and the narcotics police paid a heavy price—over twenty comrades who had once fought shoulder-to-shoulder through storms of bullets fell forever, remembered only by those who would honor them and by wreaths laid in their memory.

Perhaps one day, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, he too would meet their fate. Such thoughts often surfaced in Chen Erpao's mind. As special forces, they were the sharpest blade of the army—but even the sharpest blade could chip. While on missions, he and his team always carried a "glory bullet," ready to face death at any moment.

Yet, nearly a year after the campaign began, when the harrowing anti-narcotics operation finally ended, Chen Erpao had not been claimed by death; he returned safely.

But what awaited him was a fate crueler than death. Only after the mission did he learn that his parents and family had been brutally murdered by drug traffickers in a revenge attack. For fear that knowledge of this tragedy would affect the mission, his superiors had kept it from him until it was all over.

The mission was a complete success. Chen Erpao was awarded a first-class merit, along with the realization of an old dream—two bars and a star. In the military, the line between junior and senior officers is a watershed few ever cross. To become a senior officer before thirty meant a long, bright future in the army.

Yet sometimes Chen Erpao truly lived up to his name. To the shock and disbelief of all, he refused promotion and left behind his beloved military life, choosing to retire.

His parents had died because of him—he had failed to protect them. How could he accept such honor, or continue serving in the army, tasked with ever more dangerous missions?

Retirement was a reluctant yet liberating choice for Chen Erpao.

Chen Erpao, male, 28, height 1.78 meters, weight 72 kilograms. Retired on XX, XX, XX, formerly Captain in the XX Special Forces Unit, People's Liberation Army of China.

In the president's office of an ordinary university in Hong Kong, an elderly man with graying hair and refined glasses was carefully studying a dossier.

This man, a distinguished scholar, was the president of Lingnan University, Chen Yansong. Perhaps five hundred years ago, he and Chen Erpao were family—at least, that was the sort of fanciful thought Chen Erpao sometimes entertained.

"Mr. Chen, with your qualifications, why are you applying to be a security guard at our university? With your background, even billionaires would compete to hire you as a bodyguard!" President Chen looked at the young man before him, whose eyes were sharp, body upright, but whose face was shadowed with sorrow.

"To be honest, I've been through a lot. Now I just want a steady, ordinary job," Chen Erpao replied calmly. After suffering the tragedy of a son burying his parents, he wished for nothing more than to live out his days in peace.

President Chen bowed his head in thought for a moment, then looked up, his eyes reflecting decades of experience and hardship. He spoke slowly, "Young man, since that's the case, you can stay. The campus security office is short-handed. I believe you can handle the job."

"Thank you, President Chen. I'll do my best." As soon as he spoke, Chen Erpao found it a little funny. Not so long ago, he had been a heroic figure in the special forces, brimming with spirit. Now, he was a gatekeeper. Life was unpredictable. Perhaps this was the life he was meant for in his later years. Watching the fresh-faced students, their youth and energy radiating from every movement, could be a rather pleasant way to pass the time.

Being a security guard might be a job looked down upon by others, but for Chen Erpao, it was the best way to find peace.

As it was still before the start of term, the campus was much quieter than usual. Only a few students, whose homes were far away or who had other reasons, remained in the dormitories.

Chen Erpao didn't opt for the staff dormitory arranged by the university. Instead, he bought a nicely renovated second-hand apartment in a residential complex over ten kilometers away. Two bedrooms and a living room—not big, but it had eaten up nearly all his retirement pay and bonuses.

He had also bought a Suzuki SV650 "Masked Rider" sport motorcycle. Though it cost only a few thousand, it looked great. He planned to use it for commuting, and perhaps one day, he might give a lift to a student girl—then the bike would have truly proved its worth.

Helmet on, the Masked Rider roared to life, its thunderous engine drawing attention from all around as Chen Erpao revved it deliberately and sped away under the gaze of passersby.

"City Garden" was a decent name for a residential complex, but the environment hardly lived up to it. There were no gardens, scarcely even a flower—just building materials and all sorts of rubbish piled everywhere.

Chen Erpao didn't mind. Having a place to live was good enough for him, especially in a city, unlike those from the countryside.

Waiting for the elevator to open, he hefted a large bag of daily necessities and stepped inside, pressing the rather absurd button for the thirty-eighth floor.

Just as the elevator doors were closing, a clear, melodious female voice rang out, "Wait!"

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, her features pure and elegant, her skin as fair as snow, glowing with a tempting sheen. A pale red dress accentuated her tall, voluptuous figure. Her flawless white shoulders were like scoops of sweet ice cream, brimming with irresistible allure.

"Thank you," the young woman said softly, her bare face an absolute beauty.

Chen Erpao thought he caught a faint fragrance from her lips, a rush of heat surging in his belly, utterly helpless as he found himself entranced by a woman.

Sensing his gaze, the woman grew annoyed. Whatever goodwill she had felt vanished in an instant. Looking at his tousled hair, unshaven face, and dazed eyes, she thought he looked like nothing more than a lecherous uncle. The thought sent a chill down her back, her formerly calm heart now thumping with fear.

"Ding"—the elevator doors opened, and the woman breathed a sigh of relief, hurrying out.

Chen Erpao realized his lapse, gave an awkward smile, and was about to close the elevator when he noticed the floor number: thirty-eight.

"I live on this floor, too. Seriously," Chen Erpao muttered, shaking his head as he stepped out quickly.

The woman had just calmed down, relieved that she'd escaped the elevator with only a creepy uncle for company. Now, hearing hurried footsteps behind her, she instinctively turned to look.

A terrified scream burst from her lips as she stared at Chen Erpao in horror.

"You... you... why are you following me? Don’t come any closer, don’t—" In her eyes, Chen Erpao had become the embodiment of a sleazy uncle, poised to do something unspeakable.

Chen Erpao felt utterly speechless at the beautiful woman before him. So the saying about beauty and brains really was true, he thought.

"I... want to..." A mischievous notion struck Chen Erpao: if she already took him for a creep, why not play along a little?

"What... do you want?" The woman’s chest, full and proud, heaved with tension, bouncing rhythmically like two white rabbits straining against their bonds.

"I... want to..." Chen Erpao drawled, stepping closer, hands spread wide. With his messy hair and stubbly chin, he perfected the classic image of a lecherous uncle.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest to shield herself, her face turning pale. Realizing he'd pushed far enough, Chen Erpao decided not to play any further.

"I want to go home. Why are you blocking my way? Seriously," he said, gently brushing past her, striding to the door marked "12," unlocking it, and going inside, leaving the woman standing stupefied in the hallway.

"Ah..." As the door closed, an exasperated shriek echoed through the corridor.

Chen Erpao chuckled to himself, amused by his own boredom and the woman's overactive imagination. Of all the things to do, she had to take him for a pervert. Maybe she’d watched too many Japanese movies with sleazy male stars, leaving her with lingering trauma.