C5 A Bustling Ward!

Xue Lang was indifferent to whom Lee Wenming might pass the records to or how he planned to confront Hao Jianhua. Those matters were irrelevant to him.

The ward had finally quieted down. Despite a night without sleep, he felt wide awake, silently flipping through Xue Lang's memories.

Thankfully, he was only interrupted by the nurse checking the IV drip and replacing it. After about an hour, he was left undisturbed, allowing him to gain a general understanding of Xue Lang's history.

Xue Lang had been raised by his grandfather from infancy, never attending school. He grew up hunting in the wilderness alongside his grandfather, amassing considerable experience. He hailed from a place known as Eight Poor Families, a name coined by his great-grandfather, situated over sixty kilometers from the nearest county town, nestled deep in the mountains.

He was one of eight grandsons, each bearing a different surname. His grandfather, the sixth in line, had imparted to him a wealth of skills: combat, stealth and assassination techniques, mastery of weapons and throwing knives, along with a foundation in traditional medicine and emergency first aid.

Yet, Xue Lang was inherently simple and unassuming, never once engaging in conflict. The skills he possessed were merely for his own physical well-being.

What exactly had his eight grandfathers done before? It seemed as though they were masters who had retreated into the seclusion of the forest.

Xue Lang narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Based on his own experience, he surmised that if his predecessor had sufficient combat experience, he himself might struggle to fend off such inconceivable assassination tactics.

A pang of sorrow flickered in Xue Lang's eyes as he drew parallels.

His thoughts turned to himself, to the Snow Wolf Storm Troops, and to the seven brothers-in-arms he had lost. Visions of being ambushed on a mission in a foreign land and the ensuing bloodbath in the wilderness haunted him. He remembered Cui Guangyi, the first to fall to enemy fire and tumble down the cliff, followed by each comrade succumbing in the heat of battle, each loss wrenching his heart.

He saw the forest littered with bodies, the moment he was riddled with bullets, clutching the last grenade, and making the ultimate sacrifice alongside the encroaching enemy.

"Why am I still alive?!"

He clenched his fists, his silent scream echoing in the void of his heart, a place of profound agony.

He blamed himself for the ambush, convinced it was his failure as a leader. Yet, he survived, albeit in a different body.

It took a while, but Xue Lang eventually emerged from the depths of self-blame, exhaling a heavy sigh.

From now on, I am Xue Lang...

Though bewildered, he ultimately came to terms with his new physical form.

The family that had nurtured him was gone, claimed by an earthquake, leaving only a distant aunt alive. His childhood home held no more ties for him. His other family, the brothers with whom he'd shared every waking moment, had all been lost in the line of duty. Even his mentor, the former captain, had perished on a mission. He was the sole survivor of the Snow Wolf Storm Troops. Adapting to a new identity was the least of his worries.

What choice did he have but to accept it? Wherever he went, he was Xue Lang, not Shanan. Returning was not an option; acceptance and the chance to bear arms again were impossibilities. To speak of his past would likely land him behind bars.

Who would believe in a soul returning in another's body? He could scarcely believe it himself, much less expect others to.

Revenge was a distant dream. They were warriors without a name, without a record. Honored in a foreign land, their families couldn't even claim a gravestone or compensation, let alone seek retribution that could spark war.

Yet, the memory of his fallen comrades haunted him. Now a civilian, he couldn't shake off the essence of who he was – they were his brothers, his constant companions.

But the thought of his great-grandfather, who had raised him from infancy, stirred an undeniable sense of duty within Xue Lang – a duty to care for his benevolent elder until his final days.

Rest easy, brother. I will complete the mission you left behind...

Xue Lang put aside the incomprehensible mysteries of his transmigration, locking away the pain. With a renewed resolve, he chose to embrace life anew under this fresh identity.

He had faith that he could outshine his predecessor. His societal experience might be limited, but age was on his side, promising a wisdom and presence his predecessor lacked.

Lost in contemplation, his eyes half-closed, a sudden alertness caused him to lift his head sharply.

When Xue Lang caught sight of those heads peeking from behind the glass, a headache began to form. The little girls had returned.

Once they confirmed the coast was clear with no outsiders in the ward, the girls quietly pushed the door open, waving a plastic bag at Xue Lang before slipping inside.

Cui Ying didn't even wait for the door to shut before she inquired, "Xue Lang, are you done eating?"

Xue Lang quickly adjusted his position and sat up, replying, "I am, thanks. I'd still be hungry if it weren't for you."

Before Cui Ying could respond, the slightly chubby girl chuckled and teased, "Why so formal? My Cui Ying hasn't even had the chance to thank you for saving her life. Come on, be honest, did you give her mouth-to-mouth? How did it feel? Maybe we should have a little replay?"

Cui Ying's cheeks flamed red, and she playfully smacked her, saying, "Hong, stop talking nonsense!"

Xue Lang blinked in astonishment; he certainly hadn't expected such boldness from the young girl. But with his life revolving around training and missions, he had little exposure to society and was unaware of how forthright young girls could be nowadays.

Finding himself at a loss for words, he managed only an awkward smile.

Cui Ying swiftly steered the conversation elsewhere. "Xue Lang, breakfast was a bit light, and they were worried you hadn't eaten enough, so they went out to get you some treats. Have a bit more, will you? I'm going to clean the thermos."

No sooner had Cui Ying finished than the girls burst into giggles.

"It's you who's worried about him being hungry, isn't it?"

"Exactly, don't use us as your cover."

Overwhelmed, Cui Ying quickly stooped to retrieve the thermos from the bedside cabinet, eager to escape the teasing of her friends.

Just then, the ward door swung open, and an exaggerated voice boomed, "Wow! Is this a beauty party? Have I walked into the wrong room?"

Xue Lang looked up to see two men entering the ward: one a sturdy fellow standing over 1.7 meters tall and in his early twenties, the other shorter, around 1.6 meters, with a Maitreya Buddha-like presence and likely in his mid-twenties.

Upon observing their demeanor, Xue Lang instantly surmised that they were nothing like Ye Si—no malice etched on their faces, yet they were strangers to him.

His lack of recognition didn't mean they were unknown to everyone else. The moment the taller one finished speaking, Hong, with her cherubic cheeks, chuckled, "Liu Daxuan! What brings you two here? Did you come to invite us to lunch?"

The one named Daxuan, who had spoken first, appeared quite familiar with the group. Responding to Hong's comment with an exaggerated grin, he teased, "Well, well, if it isn't our little peach blossom! Lunch is the least of it—I could take care of you for a lifetime."

Unfazed, Hong replied with a laugh, "Sounds good to me, let's have you take care of us forever!"

"Yeah, Daxuan, you better keep your promise. You're in charge of our meals from now on," another girl chimed in, with the rest joining in agreement.

Xue Lang glanced between the man and the women, recognizing their close rapport but puzzled as to why they had all gathered in his hospital room. The women were clearly there for Cui Ying, but what about the man?

In the midst of the laughter, the jovial Fatty Shao, resembling a Buddha in his mirth, interjected, "Alright, enough fooling around. This is a hospital ward, let's not disturb the nurses or they'll kick us all out."

"Exactly, let's calm down," Cui Ying added, then turned to Fatty Shao, "What's the occasion for your visit?"

Xue Lang's gaze settled on the plump figure, equally curious about the purpose of their arrival.

Fatty Shao gestured towards Xue Lang and explained, "Our field team has been tasked with providing round-the-clock care for the hero who saved you."

Ah, it clicked for Xue Lang. This was the deputy director's doing—the hospital's way of offering support. Curry must have made the arrangements. As for the specifics of the field team's department, he was clueless.

With a newfound understanding, Xue Lang couldn't help but smile. "Let's not throw around the term 'hero' so loosely. Heroes end up on the wall," he quipped, lifting his hand in a mock gesture of hoisting an explosive pack.

The room erupted in laughter. "Oh, is that for us to admire?"

Xue Lang's wit drew another comment, "I never realized Xue Lang had such a sense of humor!"

Xue Lang's comment sent a wave of laughter through the hospital ward.

Cui Ying, however, didn't join in. She and Xue Lang worked in the same department, and although they hadn't known each other for long—just over a month—she had rarely heard him speak. The memory of the comical mix-up with directions brought a look of astonishment to her face as she glanced at Xue Lang.

Fatty Shao chuckled, "Who would've thought? He's actually quite the social butterfly."

Liu Daxuan joined in, clapping Xue Lang on the shoulder, "Well then, looks like you're the main course for lunch today. You're the man of the hour."

Before Liu Daxuan could finish, Hong interjected with a push, "Hold on, wasn't it you who set this up? And let's get one thing straight—Xue Lang is Cui Ying's catch. Are you trying to stir up trouble?"

Sensing the conversation taking a nosedive, Fatty Shao, the more seasoned of the bunch, gestured with his hands to calm everyone down. "Let's focus on the lunch plans," he suggested. Once he had everyone's attention, he proposed, "Xue Lang is bedridden, and Cui Ying can't leave either. Since we're all here, why not bring some food to the ward?"

Everyone quickly agreed with Fatty Shao's idea. After a brief chat, Liu Daxuan and Hong, accompanied by a few other girls, left the ward to decide on the lunch menu.

With their departure, the ward quieted down, leaving Fatty Shao, Cui Ying, and a more reserved girl behind. Cui Ying and the girl busied themselves cleaning the thermos and washing fruit, while Xue Lang struck up a conversation with Fatty Shao.

It was during this chat that Xue Lang learned why everyone seemed so familiar with each other. These young women were Cui Ying's classmates from the local technical school, her close friends, all working at the gas station. Liu Daxuan, whose real name was Liu Zhong, had earned his nickname from his penchant for hyperbole and plain speaking. Fatty Shao, whose real name was Shao Qinglin, simply embraced a nickname that matched his stature. Both men were drivers for the grain depot's fleet, piloting the Dongfeng extended trucks on short hauls within a two to three hundred kilometer radius.

Drivers and fuel attendants naturally got to know each other well. Xue Lang sensed that they didn't mind being asked to pick up the tab, likely due to some shady dealings with the public vehicle—it wasn't a matter of pursuing or being pursued.

Engrossed in conversation with Fatty Shao, Xue Lang was startled by a sudden appearance at the ward door's glass. A head peeked in, scanned the room, and vanished.

The glimpse of yellow hair caught Xue Lang's attention, but he remained unfazed. These tough thugs couldn't harm him. In just a couple of days, once his wound healed a bit more, he could easily handle a few punks, stitches or no stitches.

While mulling this over and accepting a Red Fuji apple from Cui Ying, two more heads popped up at the door.

The sight of the two disheveled, menacing figures made it clear to Xue Lang: these hooligans were here to identify him, likely planning to stir up trouble in the hospital or to ambush him later.

Humph! Their malicious intent was relentless.

With a silent, cold snort, Xue Lang had already strategized. Having resolved to live anew as Xue Lang, he wouldn't allow these troublemakers to disrupt his life.