Chapter 103: Memories

Zhao Ying clearly hadn’t expected Lin Fan to have such a past. Hearing of Lin Fan’s hardships stirred an indescribable ache in her heart, yet she remained silent, knowing his story was far from over. In fact, it wouldn’t be so simple. Lin Fan had spent only five years with the Falcon Unit; the question that weighed most heavily on her mind was where he had been during the remaining four years. Her intuition told her those years had been crucial for Lin Fan.

“That middle-aged man you saw outside the police station last time is actually my uncle, Lin Haotian, the highest commander of the Falcon Special Forces. Four years ago, I was assigned a mission to infiltrate and steal intelligence in Country M. After completing the task, I was pursued by agents of their intelligence bureau. At the critical moment of escape, to avoid direct conflict with Country M, our nation sacrificed the operatives on the mission — three of us, including me,” Lin Fan paused briefly, glancing at Zhao Ying who was resting in his arms.

Her expression mirrored what Lin Fan had expected: eyes wide with shock. To Zhao Ying, the country was an unquestionable force, yet she also understood there was no need for Lin Fan to fabricate anything here. Reflecting further, she acknowledged that sometimes a nation might indeed sacrifice individuals to preserve the greater good.

Lin Fan didn’t want to say outright that the country had abandoned him, but the fact remained unchanged, and no one could alter it. What he could do was accept this reality.

“Perhaps it wasn’t my time to die, or maybe it was fate, but I was gravely wounded and saved by someone who changed the course of my life, setting me on a different path.”

“That man was Han Feng, the captain of the Dragon Soul mercenaries. He took me in when I was twenty. I lived among veterans from various national armies. Having served five years with the Falcon Unit, I gradually began to stand out in Dragon Soul. Before, I only eliminated threats to the nation, but over those four years, I witnessed countless separations by death and spilled more blood than I can count. I don’t even know how many lives I’ve taken, but I came to understand that this world is one where the strong prey on the weak — a timeless truth.”

“A mercenary, a mercenary… so you’re a mercenary now?” Zhao Ying’s disbelief was evident. As a police officer, she knew all too well what mercenaries were: lives constantly hanging by a thread, where one slip could mean death. She couldn’t help but recall that night when Lin Fan was ambushed by three assassins and even had a sniper hidden nearby…

“Ying’er, the truth is, I can’t give you the life you want, not even a stable home. I still have a great vendetta to settle, and my life is filled with danger. Maybe one day I’ll...” Lin Fan nodded, his gesture answering her unspoken questions.

Zhao Ying quickly covered his mouth and said, “From the moment you took that bullet for me, I knew I had long fallen in love with you. I only ask one thing — promise me you’ll live well, for my sake. I don’t care what you do or what you can give me. I just want to know one thing: do you love me?”

Her gaze was firm and full of hope. In all the time they’d known each other, Lin Fan had never openly expressed his feelings. It was always her who took the initiative, even confessing first, she thought silently.

Lin Fan was momentarily stunned. Such a direct question was unexpected. Though the answer could be a simple one-word reply, for someone like him, unskilled in expressing emotions, that one word was strangely difficult to say.

After her words, the bedroom fell silent. Lin Fan smoked quietly, blowing smoke rings toward the ceiling, saying nothing.

As time passed without an answer, Zhao Ying’s heart began to sink. Just when she thought he wouldn’t respond, Lin Fan stubbed out his cigarette, looked up at the ceiling, and said firmly, “Love.” Though barely audible, Zhao Ying heard it clearly. A smile of love graced her lips as she buried her head deeply into Lin Fan’s embrace. For her, that one word was more than enough.

Running his fingers through her hair, Lin Fan continued, “Two years ago, the captain who brought me into Dragon Soul was killed by a bullet during a mission. Before he died, he wiped away my tears and told me that a man should rarely shed tears. He died in my arms. Holding his cold body, I truly didn’t cry — I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“Afterward, I led my team to eliminate all enemies. At his grave, I finally wept. Without Brother Han, I might have died in a foreign land. He changed the course of my life and gave me hope to avenge my parents,” Lin Fan said, determined to share everything with Zhao Ying. She was his woman, and he didn’t want to keep anything from her.

“Our mercenary group is called ‘Dragon Soul.’ Most of us are retired soldiers, with the majority being Chinese. The dragon is the oldest symbol of China — its soul is singular, unique, and represents a great spirit: loyalty to the nation, valor on the battlefield, like Yue Fei who fought fiercely for his country, or Zheng Chenggong who sacrificed everything to save it. Even today, the selfless spirit of our soldiers during disaster relief embodies this sacred Dragon Soul. In the future, as bearers of the great mission to rejuvenate the Chinese nation, countless sons and daughters will carry this profound Dragon Soul spirit,” Lin Fan said as he lit another cigarette, not out of habit but to set the mood for his telling.

“That’s why Brother Han founded Dragon Soul — to represent China. I promised him I would make sure Dragon Soul would always stand tall in the East, becoming the brightest star!”

“After Brother Han passed, I became the captain. At that moment, I knew I was no longer part of the Falcon Unit, but my responsibilities had grown heavier. In two years, I raised Dragon Soul to new heights, annihilated the Snow Leopard mercenaries — once hailed as kings of the mercenary world — and ascended to become the undisputed leader on the international mercenary stage. Along the way, I earned a fierce nickname: ‘Death God.’ What do you think? Pretty badass, right?”

Lin Fan glanced at Zhao Ying with a hint of pride. He liked that name because his arrival meant death for his enemies. He enjoyed holding their fate in his hands.

Understanding where the nickname came from, Zhao Ying nodded thoughtfully. She’d always found “Death God” cool and commanding since she first heard it. To others, it might symbolize death, but since Dragon Soul established its authority in the mercenary world, Lin Fan knew it represented a solemn responsibility. He couldn’t afford to stop growing, because to stop meant to be surpassed, and being surpassed meant annihilation. If he died, how could he avenge his parents?

“My story’s over. You’re my woman, and I don’t want to keep anything from you. I’m no saint; to many, I’m a ruthless killer,” Lin Fan said quietly. “Ying’er, I can’t give you much, but as the woman of the Death God, I promise you’ll never suffer a single injustice. No matter who opposes you — even if it’s the King of Heaven himself — I won’t allow it.”

He spoke plainly, but Zhao Ying knew those years hadn’t been easy. Fifteen should have been a time for family joy, yet Lin Fan bore the weight of vengeance. Twenty should mark a man’s rise, but he was abandoned by his country and nearly died abroad. Though Lin Fan said little of this, Zhao Ying’s heart told her he must have been deeply hurt — anyone would be.

Though she’d suspected a story behind Lin Fan, she hadn’t imagined it would be like this. But none of that mattered. Whether he was a humble security guard or a merciless killer, as long as he loved her and held her in his heart, that was enough for Zhao Ying.

“How about turning my story into an online novel? It’d probably become an instant sensation, capturing the hearts of thousands of young women,” Lin Fan joked, trying to lighten the mood. “Now, isn’t it your turn to tell me your story?”

“My story?” Zhao Ying blinked in surprise.

“You don’t quite seem like a police officer to me,” Lin Fan teased, his hands suddenly growing mischievous. A sly smile curled at the corner of his lips as his strong hands slowly climbed over Zhao Ying’s curves, the warmth seeping into her, sending a tingling sensation through her body. A flush blossomed on her cheeks as she cast a tender look at Lin Fan’s playful grin, then melted softly into her man’s arms...

P.S.: The flirtation continues — we won’t disappoint you. Also, a little request: next week, this book will appear on the homepage’s popular charts. If you have the means, please support with donations; if not, just support by reading. Your encouragement means the world. For those who haven’t registered yet, please do so — it’s free and only asks for your bookmark and shelf addition.

Because Brother Qianfan’s “Super Soldier King” is wildly popular online, writing a soldier king story puts quite a bit of pressure on me. But I will persevere because of your support. Though some chapters may bear similarities or echo familiar lines, believe me — this is a different story, with a distinct protagonist and unique world. You are the driving force behind my creation of this story and world!