Chapter Eleven: The Army Must Not Be Humiliated!

"You..."
Always confident, Huang Qian suddenly felt a prickling sensation under Qin Mu's gaze, as if needles were stabbing her back. The hairs on her arms stood on end; she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes and instinctively turned her head aside, trying to escape his stare.
"This is outrageous! Who gave you permission to act on your own?"
Zhang Feng rushed forward, snatching the handcuff keys from Huang Qian's grasp and unlocking Qin Mu.
"Boss, what are you doing?"
Huang Qian was baffled; there was no precedent for voluntarily freeing a detainee.
Zhang Feng glared fiercely at her, his heart still pounding with residual fear.
Between Qin Mu's calm demeanor and what Wu Mu had said earlier, Zhang Feng had ample reason for his conclusion.
This young man before him was highly likely to hail from the military district!
Though their bureau and the military district kept out of each other's affairs, in terms of real authority, there was simply no comparison.
"You just need to come with us for a simple record," Zhang Feng said respectfully.
Qin Mu shrugged. He was indifferent either way.
This trip was mainly to acquaint himself with the local authorities; after all, he would be staying in Jiangcheng for quite some time, and inevitably, their paths would cross. It was better to establish contact early.
"Our car is downstairs, and someone will be waiting for you."
Zhang Feng kept a polite smile until Qin Mu departed, then let out a long sigh of relief.
Standing beside Qin Mu was oppressive; it felt suffocating.
But Huang Qian did not see it that way.
"Boss, why are you so afraid of him!"
"Look at his arrogant manner; he's obviously just a useless thug who'll never amount to anything!"
Zhang Feng immediately tapped Huang Qian's head.
"How can you say that! Do you realize your actions could bring tremendous trouble to our bureau?" Zhang Feng shouted angrily.
"That young man's bearing is extraordinary; his eyes are sharp and dangerous. He's very likely from the military district!"
"Military district?" Huang Qian, unable to detect any hostility, was immediately dismissive.
"With his lazy, frivolous look, even if he's from the military, he's just another privileged brat, bullying people by flaunting his family background!"
"I can't stand these second-generation types. Without their fathers' hard work and sweat, they're nothing at all!"
Huang Qian was thoroughly disappointed in Zhang Feng.
She had come along because Zhang Feng was reputed for his uprightness and fairness.
But today, a mere privileged youth had rattled him.
"Let's go!"
Impatient, Huang Qian headed downstairs.
Zhang Feng found it difficult to explain further and could only sigh quietly. He made a call to have someone clean up the aftermath upstairs, then reported the situation to the bureau's higher-ups.
About ten minutes later, Zhang Feng's car returned to the station.
He brought Qin Mu to the lounge.
"I need to report to the superiors. Don't cause any trouble!" Zhang Feng warned.
"Alright, alright, get going," Huang Qian hurriedly pushed him out.
Once Zhang Feng left, only Huang Qian and Qin Mu remained in the lounge.
Huang Qian couldn't help but study Qin Mu.
Sitting in the police station, he showed no nervousness at all; instead, he closed his eyes for a nap, clearly unconcerned about the situation.
No wonder he'd complied so easily earlier—he must have known this was just a formality.
He was confident his superiors would protect him.

He was, unmistakably, a spoiled second-generation brat!
By contrast,
Zhou Dongchen was a renowned philanthropist in Jiangcheng, regularly attending charity galas and someone Huang Qian admired deeply.
His son, influenced by him, couldn't be too far off.
But Qin Mu had ordered his men to ruthlessly break both of Zhou Ming's arms.
The more she thought about it, the more unforgivable Qin Mu seemed—utterly despicable!
"Let's start with the basic records. What's your occupation?" Huang Qian reluctantly picked up pen and paper.
"I'm a soldier," Qin Mu replied without hesitation.
"What? You, a soldier?"
Huang Qian was now convinced of her judgment. This man's lazy, privileged air meant he'd relied on family connections to get a military title.
"A newcomer is bound to have sharpness—that's good. But you must learn moderation. I hope you won't be back here apologizing to me later," Qin Mu suddenly spoke, calm and cool.
"You're just a second-generation bully, living off your father's achievements, and you dare lecture me? Apologize to you? Dream on!"
"Your father must regret having such a wasteful son!"
Huang Qian was about to explode,
But Zhang Feng pushed open the door, summoning her for a meeting.
"Hmph!" Huang Qian spat before leaving.
Outside, she quickened her pace to catch up to Zhang Feng.
"Boss, he actually told me he was a soldier."
"Someone like him claiming to be a soldier—can you imagine? Isn't it hilarious?"
Zhang Feng scolded, "How many times have I told you? Don't speak carelessly; it could ruin you!"
Huang Qian stuck out her tongue, brushing it off.
As they entered the meeting room, Zhang Feng was calm, but Huang Qian was startled.
Seated from the head of the table down were more than a dozen elite members of the bureau, including senior officials—all waiting in silence for the meeting to begin.
"What's so serious about this?" Huang Qian wondered aloud.
"Ahem, everyone's here. Let's begin." Director Chen tapped the table.
"This matter concerns the son of the city's famous philanthropist, Zhou Dongchen—Zhou Ming. I hope you all treat it with the utmost seriousness. If mishandled, it could affect the city's reputation."
"Director Chen, the military district's requested files have been approved," reported an officer beside the equipment.
"Put them up," Chen nodded.
"This must be his backers, here to clear his name..." Huang Qian muttered.
Soon, the meeting room lights dimmed, and the projector cast a white beam onto the screen.
Qin Mu, eight years old, formally enlisted.
On the screen, a young boy, still innocent, looked up at the blue sky and saluted awkwardly.
"That's him! The main culprit in the assault!" Huang Qian exclaimed.
Even as a child, his handsome features and sharp contours made him instantly recognizable as Qin Mu.
Everyone nodded, seeing only an ordinary child.
But the next image was entirely different, silencing the room.
Twelve years old, transferred to the combat division, designated as a special forces prodigy.
Qin Mu wore combat gear, a rifle slung over his shoulder, camouflage streaked across his face, his expression resolute and eyes ablaze.
Just four years apart!
A staggering transformation!

Even some seasoned SWAT officers present felt that the Qin Mu on screen was their equal in presence, if not their superior.
Fifteen years old, appointed commander of the special forces unit, transferred to the northwest theater.
Seventeen, commander-in-chief of the northwest theater.
Eighteen, awarded five first-class military honors; by decision, bestowed the rank of major general.
From a blank slate to a direct elevation to major general!
In peacetime, rising through military ranks is near impossible.
For Qin Mu, there was only one explanation—
His achievements were monumental.
Unprecedented in history!
"A major general's insignia as a coming-of-age gift—this..." Zhang Feng was dumbstruck.
He had suspected Qin Mu was remarkable, but never imagined such defiance of all norms!
The subsequent records were all deliberately redacted, clearly withheld from outsiders.
But it was impossible to fathom the glory Qin Mu had achieved in those years!
Or rather, with his rate of advancement, would he still be just a major general now?
The final image showed a young man in elite combat attire, standing in a desert wasteland, with a battlefield stretching behind him.
Arrayed across the front of his uniform were dozens—hundreds—of military decorations, gleaming gold and razor-sharp!
Each honor was earned with Qin Mu's blood, bought with his life!
And most crucially, the records never once stated that Qin Mu had retired.
Which meant—
He was a living legend!
Everyone in the meeting room rose to their feet, eyes fixed on the young man on the screen, hearts full of boundless respect.
"I have never seen such a world-shaking figure."
"Just looking at him makes my blood race!"
"He truly is a role model for our generation!"
Amid the exclamations, Huang Qian, in the corner, nearly collapsed from weak knees.
Her eyes were vacant, her face burning with shame.
Relying on a father's sweat to bully others?
A wasteful son?
Who was she to criticize him?
Every word she had spoken felt like a slap to her own face.
"This... This can't be real, can it? Is it fabricated to fool us?"
"A major general at eighteen—how is that possible!"
"I don't believe it!"
But as soon as Huang Qian finished, Zhang Feng slammed his palm on the table, making a thunderous sound.
"Outrageous!"
"Honor is a soldier's second life. For a general who has achieved world-renowned feats, honor is more precious than life!"
"Do you realize every word you're saying is an insult to a soldier forged from blood and glory?"
"You're insulting the national emblem on your own shoulder!"