Security at Federation headquarters was tight. Wen Shilan passed through several iris scans before finally reaching the third floor, where a commissioner was waiting in the office area.
“Shilan. You’ve finally come.”
It was Commissioner Liu, whom he had met at the hospital. The man seemed a little thinner, though not by much. His stomach still protruded, but his cheeks had acquired a hint of shape instead of looking as round as dinner plates.
“Did you read my messages? Losing your mental power doesn’t mean you can’t serve. With all your years of combat experience, you could become commander-in-chief.”
Commander-in-chief…
The position ranked below the commissioners and above a senior general, but it had been vacant for years. The previous commander had retired just after Wen Shilan became a senior general. No suitable replacement had been found, largely because Wen Shilan had never needed anyone to direct his battles.
He was no brute who relied on strength alone. From planning an operation to fighting on the front line, he could respond to any crisis with exceptional judgment.
Wen Shilan had no need for a commander-in-chief. And Tang Wan did not deserve to have Wen Shilan serve as his.
“Commissioner, I came to have my access revoked and my communicator removed.”
Wen Shilan settled onto the sofa. He was not in uniform today. He wore a casual gray tracksuit, and comfortable white sneakers had replaced his usual high military boots. With that relaxed, faint smile on his face, he looked nothing like the God of War who had fought for all of Silan. He seemed more like a young man fresh out of university, carefree and full of life.
The commissioner had never seen him like this. Wen Shilan used to be stern, unsmiling, and rigidly reserved. In only a few days, he seemed to have become someone else.
There was no despair or grief in his face. He looked as though losing his mental power had been no more troubling than misplacing an unimportant button.
The commissioner paused. “Revoking your access… There’s no need for that. The Federation will always be your home. You can—”
“It is necessary,” Wen Shilan said, shaking his head. “I’m an ordinary person now. If I can still come and go as I please, it will undermine military discipline.”
Now that sounded like him.
Discipline…
The commissioner had nearly forgotten how strict Wen Shilan was with himself. His rank had never made him arrogant, and the soldiers under his command had always been the most disciplined in the Federation.
He studied Wen Shilan in silence for a while, then sighed and nodded.
“Go to the engineering room. I’ll revoke your access.”
Communicators issued to key Federation personnel were custom-made. To prevent them from coming loose during battle and causing unnecessary problems, the engineering room fitted them as wristbands that the wearers could not remove themselves.
Wen Shilan thanked him and headed for the engineering room.
The commissioner watched his straight-backed figure recede. His heart suddenly skipped, seized by the feeling that letting Wen Shilan walk away today would become a decision he deeply regretted. He opened his mouth to call him back, but stopped himself. He knew Wen Shilan would not stay simply because he asked.
He could only reassure himself. Without mental power, Wen Shilan could do little for the Federation now. There was no reason to regret this…
Besides, Tang Wan had passed the trial furnace. His mental power was not far below Wen Shilan’s at the same age. Tang Wan lacked experience, but that could be gained. Wen Shilan had trained him personally and thought highly of him. Perhaps Tang Wan would become the next Wen Shilan.
Silan’s second God of War.
When Wen Shilan emerged from the engineering room, he looked at the red band around his wrist. Back when he had mental power, a small communicator would not have left a mark. Now he was an ordinary man. A meteorite fragment set into the wristband had left the skin sore and itchy, its angry red outline stark against his pale wrist.
He went downstairs and reached his car, then turned to look back at the Federation’s grand, imposing gates and the building beyond, deep blue as a star-filled sky. His expression was hard to read, touched by something like regret and, perhaps, relief.
Tang Wan stopped short as he hurried after them. His heart seemed to miss a beat, and an aching tightness filled his chest until he could hardly breathe.
Beside him, Wu Yi had eyes only for Wen Shilan and noticed nothing wrong with Tang Wan. He sprinted toward the general. This time he did not try to hug him. Wen Shilan had said it might hurt him, so Wu Yi came to a stop in front of him instead.
His eyes were red. He stared at Wen Shilan, unable to speak, afraid his voice would break the moment he opened his mouth. The general would surely think less of him if he cried.
Men weren’t supposed to cry so easily. Wu Yi nodded firmly, trying to convince himself.
But he was so sad. He still wanted to cry.
“General, could you stay? I’m scared.”
He was not afraid of the tens of thousands of insectoids on the battlefield. He did not fear claws tearing open his skin, or spilling his blood in a fight with the enemy. Wu Yi had always been fearless. The one thing he feared was facing a battle without Wen Shilan at his side.
Wen Shilan was his anchor. Whenever Wu Yi went to war, one look at him made everything seem less frightening. The general had always inspired that kind of confidence. Now Wu Yi was losing it.
The weather was pleasant today. Wen Shilan’s jacket was partly unzipped, revealing a white T-shirt and a glimpse of his finely shaped collarbone. Just above it was a delicate hollow.
Wu Yi had never noticed how thin his general was. He looked slender enough to be lifted with one hand. Yet Wen Shilan had always seemed to Wu Yi like a towering building, standing firm before him.
The sight of such a huge man crying gave Wen Shilan a headache. Still, Wu Yi was the only one who had never abandoned the original Wen Shilan. His heart softened a little. He offered Wu Yi a faint smile and lowered his voice.
“Nothing lasts forever.”
…
What was going on? Wen Shilan had tried to comfort him. Why was the big man crying even harder?
This was ridiculous!
He should have kept quiet.
Wu Yi broke into loud, heaving sobs, crying so hard he could barely catch his breath. Wen Shilan had no idea how to deal with him. He stood there looking uncharacteristically uncertain, then happened to glance aside. Tang Wan was walking toward them. Wen Shilan’s eyes brightened.
“Tang Wan, come take him away.”
“I’m not going! And you can’t go either, General! We promised we’d fight side by side! You even said you’d find me a pretty wife in a couple of years. You lied! You’re going back on your word!”
Wu Yi covered his face as tears spilled between his fingers. Growing up, he had been shunned for being so much taller and heavier than other children. Only after joining the military and meeting Wen Shilan had he found someone who treated him with real kindness.
Wen Shilan might have been stern and unsmiling, but whenever anyone in his unit was injured, he visited them personally. He had even used his mental power to heal them. He was not one for grand speeches. His general simply had the strongest and gentlest heart Wu Yi had ever known.
Wu Yi was only in his twenties. He did not know how to bear a loss this great. Crying and stubbornly refusing to let go were the only ways he knew to try to keep Wen Shilan there.
“Wu Yi, go back first. I’d like to speak with the general alone.”
Perhaps Wu Yi’s tears were contagious; Tang Wan’s eyes stung too. He wanted to talk to Wen Shilan, but Wu Yi’s wailing was getting on his nerves.
Wu Yi lowered his hands, still gasping and sniffling. Tears and a runny nose had left him looking thoroughly undignified. He glanced at Tang Wan, unwilling to leave.
“What can’t you say in front of me? You’ve already seen me embarrass myself like this. I’m not going. If I leave, the general will be gone when I come back.”
Tang Wan glared at him, his expression darkening.
Wen Shilan sighed and rubbed Wu Yi’s round, bald head.
“Wu Yi, Tang Wan is your general now. Listen to him from here on. Go back. I’ll send you my new address and contact number in a little while. You can come see me whenever you like.”
Wu Yi looked at him, hesitated, and ignored the first half of that entirely.
“R-really?”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
He hadn’t. The general had never lied to him…
With that promise, Wu Yi finally stopped crying. He headed back to the Federation base reluctantly, looking over his shoulder every few steps.
Now only Wen Shilan and Tang Wan remained.
Tang Wan watched him in silence. After a long while, he spoke in a low voice. “General…”
Wen Shilan cut him off before he could say anything more. “You’ve got that wrong. You’re the Federation’s general now.”
Tang Wan faltered, embarrassment crossing his handsome face.
Right. He was the general now. Wen Shilan himself had recommended him to the commissioners.
“Then what should I call you?”
Wen Shilan? Shilan? In the past, if Wen Shilan had told him to stop calling him General, Tang Wan would have teased him into offering a more intimate name. Now he couldn’t. He didn’t dare.
Wen Shilan might have recommended him, but Tang Wan had still taken the position that had once belonged to him.
Wen Shilan had lost the mental power he had always taken such pride in for the sake of Silan and the Federation. And Tang Wan had become the Federation’s new senior general at that very moment.
The uniform Tang Wan wore had once been Wen Shilan’s. The insignia on his shoulder had once belonged to Wen Shilan alone.
Every soldier wanted to be a general, and Tang Wan was no exception. He had dreamed of no longer being a deputy, of standing shoulder to shoulder with Wen Shilan. But he had only become a senior general because Wen Shilan had fallen from the heights he once occupied.
“I’m a few years older than you. You can call me ‘brother.’ It won’t hurt you.”
Wen Shilan’s voice and expression remained mild. There was none of the fond, helpless smile he had given Wu Yi. He looked at Tang Wan as he might look at any ordinary soldier—or a stranger he happened to pass on the street.
It shouldn’t be like this. He and Wu Yi had both been Wen Shilan’s deputies. Wen Shilan had always treated Wu Yi well, but Tang Wan had been the one he indulged, the one he favored above everyone else.
Wen Shilan shouldn’t be looking at him that way.
Tang Wan’s chest ached. He wanted to complain and coax him as he used to, but in the end he only managed a strained smile. “Brother Lan.”
Not merely “brother,” but “Brother Lan.” Somehow, it felt a little closer.
Wen Shilan nodded. He took a step back and studied Tang Wan in his senior general’s uniform, standing tall and handsome. At last, a faint smile touched his lips. “It looks good on you.”
“Your mental power is strong, and you’re capable. I can leave things in your hands without worrying.”
Wen Shilan regarded him with the approval one might give a promising junior. There was no jealousy or resentment in his eyes. It was as though he had chosen to retire and pass his authority to a successor he trusted, rather than being forced to give it up because he could no longer fight.
There was no regret or unwillingness in his gaze, either. He even raised a hand to pat Tang Wan’s shoulder. But when he saw the insignia there, his hand paused. He moved it to Tang Wan’s arm instead and gave it a gentle pat.
“Wu Yi can be single-minded, and he acts on impulse. You two used to bicker all the time. Now that you’re the senior general, try to be more patient with him.”
Wu Yi. Again with Wu Yi.
They had both been Wen Shilan’s deputies. Tang Wan was the general now. And he had once been the one closest to Wen Shilan. Why, even as he was leaving, did Wen Shilan still have to talk to him about Wu Yi?
“Isn’t there anything you want to say to me? To Tang Wan?”
Nothing about the Federation. Nothing about anyone else. Just something meant for him?
Wen Shilan used to tell him things he would never have told another person. Why wouldn’t he now?
Wen Shilan paused. Then understanding seemed to dawn, and his clear, beautiful eyes curved with a pleased, encouraging smile.
“Tang Wan, I believe you’ll become Silan’s next God of War. I look forward to that day. Don’t let me down.”
It was a polite thing to say, though he seemed to mean it.
But it wasn’t what Tang Wan wanted to hear. Wen Shilan had already turned away. Watching his retreating figure, Tang Wan suddenly called out.
“Wen Shilan, I…”
It was the first time Tang Wan had called him “Wen Shilan.” He had never used his full name before because it had felt disrespectful. He still respected him now, but he had wanted to say it. And after he did, he had no idea what was supposed to come next.
Wen Shilan stopped walking. He didn’t turn around, as though he were waiting for Tang Wan to continue. But Tang Wan said nothing. He only stared at Wen Shilan’s back, his eyes burning, without managing a single word.
After what felt like a long time, Wen Shilan turned first. He looked at Tang Wan’s reddened eyes and pale face, then smiled with the quiet relief of someone who had finally let something go.
“Tang Wan, if you can’t say it now, don’t say it later, either.”
Wen Shilan left. His car wasn’t moving fast, but Tang Wan stood watching until it vanished from sight. Only then did a slow, insistent ache spread through his chest, so painful he wanted to fold over and sink to the ground.
P.S. Writing Wen Shilan makes me a little sad, though I’m not sure why.
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