New Ming Calendar, Year 14.
Time had quietly passed, and before anyone really noticed, Gao Chuwu and Xing Honglang had both stepped into their fifties.
Age had come, but it had not weakened them.
Their bodies were still tall and powerful, their shoulders broad, their backs straight like iron rods. When the two of them put on their neatly pressed military uniforms, they still looked like towering walls that could crush anyone beneath their pressure.
And right now, that pressure was falling entirely on one unlucky man.
Fan Bulian, the dean of the Foreign Languages Institute.
He stood there, sweating.
Gao Chuwu's voice exploded like thunder.
"Fan Bulian, you bastard, where did you hide my son? Hand him over right now. If you do not, I will make one phone call and have a whole division come over and stomp you flat."
Fan Bulian's face turned pale.
Before he could even speak, Xing Honglang had already reached out and slapped a hand over Gao Chuwu's mouth.
"Stop talking nonsense," she snapped. "The army is not your personal tool. You cannot just call them over to fight people."
Gao Chuwu struggled and mumbled behind her hand, still furious.
"But he hid our son."
Xing Honglang released him, then stepped forward herself. Her eyes locked onto Fan Bulian like a predator.
"The army cannot be used privately," she said coldly, "but my old salt smuggler subordinates can. Plenty of them never joined the military. Give me three minutes. If you do not hand over my son, I will call eight hundred reformed smugglers, and they will come deal with you."
Fan Bulian almost felt his knees go weak.
These two were simply unreasonable.
"You cannot do this," he said hurriedly. "Your son has his own dreams. You cannot force your preferences onto his future."
Gao Chuwu snorted loudly.
"What nonsense are you talking about. My son always wanted to be a soldier. When he was little, he hugged my leg and said he wanted to become a great general. His physique is outstanding. He was born for the battlefield."
Xing Honglang nodded immediately.
"That is right. He said it himself when he was young. How are we forcing him?"
Fan Bulian could only sigh.
"General Gao, General Xing, are your memories still stuck when he was four or five years old? He has grown up. He is already in his twenties."
The couple froze.
For a brief moment, they did not even know how to respond.
Fan Bulian continued, seeing that he had their attention.
"He has already written clearly on his graduation plan that he wants to abandon martial pursuits and become a diplomat. He has been studying foreign languages very seriously for years. I am not exaggerating when I say he is the most talented language student I have ever seen."
Gao Chuwu's eyes widened.
"What?"
Xing Honglang was also stunned.
"He wants to give up being a soldier? With that kind of body? Does he not even understand what he looks like?"
Fan Bulian shook his head.
"Your way of thinking is outdated. A strong body does not mean someone must fight. Even a giant can pick up a pen."
Silence fell.
Gao Chuwu and Xing Honglang exchanged glances, both at a loss.
After a while, Gao Chuwu suddenly cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the institute building.
"Gao Zhengjing, I know you are hiding in there and listening. Get out here right now and talk to me."
Xing Honglang also shouted.
"That is right. Come out. Hiding behind someone else is not impressive."
Their voices were so loud that the entire institute seemed to tremble.
The students nearby instinctively backed away.
And in doing so, they accidentally pushed one person out from the crowd.
Gao Zhengjing.
He stood there awkwardly.
He was in his twenties, in the prime of his life. His build resembled both of his parents. Tall, broad, and incredibly sturdy, like a pillar carved from stone. Because he had grown up with better nutrition, he was even larger than them.
However, his voice was calm.
Gentle.
Almost refined.
"Father. Mother. I am here," he said. "Let us talk properly."
Gao Chuwu did not hesitate.
"Fine. Then I will say it directly. Join the army. With your physique, anything else is a waste."
"I will not," Gao Zhengjing replied immediately.
His tone was firm, without hesitation.
"Modern warfare is no longer decided by physical strength. Shooting ability and military knowledge are more important. On the battlefield, I might not even defeat a smaller soldier."
Gao Chuwu blinked.
His brain clearly needed a moment to process that.
"Is that really how it works now?"
No one answered him.
Xing Honglang stepped forward.
"I will speak with you," she said.
Gao Zhengjing straightened his posture slightly.
He knew very well that while his father was straightforward, his mother was the one who truly understood reason.
Xing Honglang looked at him steadily.
"Why do you want to abandon martial pursuits?"
Gao Zhengjing answered without hesitation.
"I like literature."
Xing Honglang nodded slightly.
"That is a sufficient reason. Then tell me, what exactly do you want to do?"
"I want to become a diplomat," he said.
He paused for a moment, then continued, his voice growing more resolute.
"New Ming is expanding westward and establishing trade relations with foreign nations. At this stage, the country urgently needs people who understand foreign languages. However, we lack talent in this field. I want to fill that gap and contribute to the country."
As soon as he finished speaking, applause broke out around them.
"Senior Gao, well said."
Someone in the crowd shouted playfully, and laughter followed.
In that moment of chaos, Xing Honglang suddenly moved.
Her body flashed forward with astonishing speed.
Before anyone could react, she had already grabbed a young woman from the crowd and pulled her out.
The young woman's face was completely red.
Xing Honglang looked her up and down carefully, then nodded in satisfaction.
"Good. I approve this marriage."
The surrounding students burst into laughter.
Gao Zhengjing was stunned.
"Xiaoyu… so you really do like me?"
The girl panicked immediately.
"You are so annoying."
She broke free from Xing Honglang's grip and ran back into the crowd.
Xing Honglang did not chase her. Instead, she turned her gaze back to her son.
"Everyone has their own path," she said calmly. "I will not stop you. But you must prove that you are capable. If your ability is not enough, do not expect us to accept your choice."
Gao Zhengjing's eyes lit up.
"I understand."
He took a breath, then began to speak.
English.
French.
Spanish.
Portuguese.
Dutch.
Japanese.
Language after language flowed from his mouth, smooth and natural.
He did not pause, did not stumble.
Within just a few minutes, he had demonstrated more than ten different languages, each one fluent and clear.
The students were stunned.
Then applause erupted again, even louder than before.
Fan Bulian smiled with satisfaction.
"I told you. He is a genius."
Gao Chuwu and Xing Honglang did not understand a single word.
But they were not fools.
They could see the reactions around them. They could feel it.
Their son was not pretending.
He was truly capable.
The two of them looked at each other.
In that moment, the same emotion appeared in both of their eyes.
Pride.
Gao Chuwu suddenly opened his arms.
"Honglang."
Xing Honglang smiled and opened hers as well.
"Chuwu."
They stepped forward and embraced tightly.
"Our son is amazing."
New Ming Calendar, Year 15. Gao Zhengjing took up a position as a diplomat and traveled to the West.
In Year 20, under his leadership, New Ming signed the well known Thirty Two Articles Treaty with Western nations, ensuring that trade would not be restricted.
In Year 23, the New Ming embassy was attacked by anti Ming extremists. Gao Zhengjing immediately switched roles from scholar to warrior.
He removed his diplomatic robes, put on armor, and took up firearms. By himself, he eliminated an entire battalion.
His story was later adapted into a film titled First Blood.
Many years later, Li Dao Xuan looked into the box and saw that time had advanced to New Ming Year 320. In the capital's martyr cemetery stood a monument dedicated to Gao Chuwu's family.
The inscription read, "Founding heroes, a family of loyal martyrs."