Chapter One: King of Tigers

“You were known as the ‘Tiger of Huaxia’!”

Hearing the woman’s shrill, cracked voice on the phone, Tang Long ended the call. From the moment he chose to take off his uniform, he was no longer that person.

“Boss Long, I heard you retired! Hey, how about coming to the provincial capital to help your brother out? You can be vice president of my company. If that’s not enough, I’ll let you be the general manager instead!”

The soldiers who once served under him, now running their own logistics companies, thriving in the business world.

“We’ll have a drink sometime,” Tang Long replied simply, then hung up.

He knew that anyone who could call him was without exception a brother he’d risked his life with… or a woman.

He switched off his phone; at this rate, it would be blown up with calls. He didn’t know who had leaked the news of his retirement.

The title ‘Tiger of Huaxia’ wasn’t something Tang Long gave himself. He’d won the global special forces championship three times.

He had rescued hostages single-handedly from thousands of heavily armed terrorists.

He’d battled the world’s top three mercenary groups in Africa.

He had faced the number one ranked assassin in a fight to the death…

Task after task, his blood, sweat, and honor forged that reputation.

“From now on, there is only Tang Long. The ‘Tiger of Huaxia’ is no more,” he muttered, his eyes growing resolute.

Tang Long was an orphan. He’d floated down the village stream in a bamboo basket and was adopted by the old village chief.

He was mischievous as a child; at sixteen, the old chief chased him with a shovel and sent him off on the conscription truck.

Ten years passed in a blink.

Half a month ago, Tang Long received a call from the old village chief. He didn’t know what had happened, only that the chief’s voice was hoarse as he told him to retire and return home, to take his place as village chief.

Retire?

Those two words had never crossed Tang Long’s mind—they felt foreign and piercing.

With reddened eyes, he filed his retirement report. He knew that unless something drastic had happened in Fishhead Village, the old chief would never have made that call.

Ignoring his superiors’ efforts to keep him, Tang Long left the barracks and set out for home.

His life was saved by the old chief; he grew up eating meals from every household in Fishhead Village. Now that the old chief called him back, he would return.

“Help… help!”

A broken, desperate voice drifted from behind the mountain pass.

Tang Long paused. He wasn’t walking on the main road, but a mountain trail, much shorter than the highway. Yet the path was treacherous and steep, so few people used it.

Zhang Xiu’e was nearly in tears. The sky was darkening, and if no one came by and she couldn’t move, she’d be stuck in the mountain hollow all night, a chilling thought.

If only she hadn’t tried to show off and taken this shortcut. Now what was she going to do?

She looked up at the stone slope four or five meters high, then down at her swollen ankle, feeling utterly helpless.

“Need some help?”

The sudden voice made Zhang Xiu’e jump.

She looked up at the stone above her. A man was bending down, peering over.

“Yes, yes!” Zhang Xiu’e cried with delight. She’d been calling out for ages—finally, someone appeared.

Tang Long slid down the slope, sizing up the girl—a delicate, pretty young woman, especially those clear, expressive eyes.

He’d seen many beauties at home and abroad over the years, had several confidantes, but the purity in this girl was rare.

Blushing, Zhang Xiu’e said shyly, “I’m from Fishhead Village. I fell and twisted my ankle. Could you take me home? I can pay you.”

Tang Long hesitated, his gaze lingering on her waist. He smiled and asked, “Fishhead Village? Your chief is Zhang Deshun, right?”

“Yes, Zhang Deshun is our old village chief,” she replied, a hint of sadness flickering in her eyes.

Tang Long knelt beside her, lifted her foot, and examined the swollen ankle.

“Ow!”

Zhang Xiu’e frowned, glaring at him. The way he’d looked at her since arriving wasn’t right.

Tang Long ignored her look, smiling. “No bones broken, just dislocated. I’ll fix it for you.”

“No—ow!”

Before she could protest, Tang Long gripped her ankle and foot, twisted and pushed, and the dislocation was set right.

But with the swelling, she wouldn’t be able to walk for a while, at least twenty-four hours to recover.

Tang Long stood and took off his outer jacket.

Zhang Xiu’e stared at him in alarm. “What… what are you doing?”

She feared she’d invited trouble, that this man meant her harm.

Tang Long laughed, holding out his jacket. “Don’t you feel a draft behind you?”

A draft?

Zhang Xiu’e looked over her shoulder. Her face flushed bright red. At some point, her jeans had split open at the back, exposing pale skin and pink underwear.

“No looking! Turn around, turn around!” she cried, her cheeks burning.

Tang Long secretly laughed. What use was turning around now? He’d already seen everything. But his face remained neutral as he handed her his jacket. “Wrap this around yourself for now.”

Blushing furiously, Zhang Xiu’e took his jacket. When he turned away, she stood and quickly tied it around her waist.

She looked down; it still felt a bit drafty.

But there was nothing else to do—she couldn’t expect him to give her his pants.

“You… you can turn around now,” she called softly.

Tang Long turned, instinctively glancing at her waist before smiling. “Next time you hike, avoid pants that split so easily.”

“…”

Zhang Xiu’e cursed inwardly.

Tang Long approached, turned, and crouched. “Climb on.”

It would take at least half an hour to reach Fishhead Village from here, and the road was long. Soon, it would be dark.

Blushing, Zhang Xiu’e lay on Tang Long’s back, arms tightly around his neck, whispering, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Tang Long straightened. Wanting her to move up a bit—her grip was choking him—he stepped on a round stone and stumbled, his hands landing where they shouldn’t, since her jeans were torn.

“You… you!”

Zhang Xiu’e’s face burned with shame and anger. She struggled to get off.

“Stay still,” Tang Long said, giving her hip a playful squeeze as he climbed, warning her, “It wasn’t on purpose. Move again and I’ll leave you here.”

Zhang Xiu’e feared he might actually abandon her. There hadn’t been anyone all day, and at night, there’d be even less. She clung tightly to his neck and stayed put.

When they finally climbed up from the base of the slope, both sighed in relief.

“I’m Zhang Xiu’e, a village official from Fishhead Village…”