Chapter 13

Chapter 13

“Here’s some water.” Bai Luming placed two cups on the table, his voice as flat and lifeless as if he’d just lost his parents, clearly still struggling to accept reality. “So, I’ve been forcibly conscripted?”

His tone alone was enough to convey his utter lack of enthusiasm for the situation.

Liang Deng handed a document to Bai Luming. “Yes, that’s precisely why I’m here today. These are the newly drafted policy terms, officially released an hour ago. All documents bear the official seal of the Military Management Bureau. If you doubt it, you can verify it on the official website—it’s all above board.”

“No need to verify.” Bai Luming felt a sudden onset of word-induced dizziness.

Having just completed an order a hundred times larger than usual, he had planned to tidy up and close the shop for the day, only to be blindsided by this dreadful news.

He listlessly glanced at Xiao Nuoya beside him and asked, without much interest, “I understand Colonel Liang’s purpose. And you, Colonel?”

Xiao Nuoya shot a look at Liang Deng. “Same as him.”

From the moment he entered, Xiao Nuoya’s gaze had lingered on Liang Deng with a peculiar intensity.

He still remembered the stunning accuracy of those shots at the testing range. With his years of military experience, he was certain this ‘Lu Ming’ was an exceptionally promising individual combatant. But now he was being told that the talented recruit Liang Deng had been praising so highly was the very same person?

At this moment, the two sat on opposite sides of the table, their tense standoff resembling two matchmakers vying for a bride in the same household.

Bai Luming wasn’t surprised by Xiao Nuoya’s answer.

Sure enough, another recruiter.

He drawled, his voice even more devoid of interest. “The same, huh…”

“Not entirely the same.” Xiao Nuoya cleared his throat. As his gaze shifted from Liang Deng to Bai Luming, he effortlessly put on a charming smile. “My department is different from his.”

“Lu Ming, right? You might not be familiar with the internal structure of the military. Our Infantry Department is one of the core units in the combat system—highly valued and offers excellent opportunities for advancement within the ranks. As for Colonel Liang’s Mecha Department…”

Xiao Nuoya continued smoothly, “It’s also a core department within the logistics system, but its primary focus is rear-echelon support, providing technical assistance to combat units. Relatively speaking, their contributions can easily go unrecognized.”

Liang Deng was practically fuming beside him.

He knew that scoundrel Xiao Nuoya never had anything good to say. It sounded polite on the surface, but he was clearly implying that one department was inferior to the other!

“Don’t listen to him!” Liang Deng slammed his hand on the table and stood up. “Little Lu, your family runs a repair shop. You have a technical foundation and your own ideas. If you’re willing to join our Mecha Department, you’ll absolutely secure a place. The Infantry Department recruits a large number of people every year, and Colonel Xiao is notoriously fickle—who knows when he might take a liking to someone else and lose interest? He’d never truly invest in your development!”

Bai Luming really wanted to ask if terms like “fickle” and “lose interest” were appropriate for a recruitment drive. Was this even a legitimate process?

Watching the two colonels about to clash again, he suddenly felt a line perfectly suited for the moment—*Stop fighting over me!*

Bai Luming quietly cleared his throat. “I understand the situation now, and I’ve received both of your earnest proposals. Please head back for today. I will carefully consider your suggestions.”

The dismissal was direct. Before the two colonels could react, they were both ushered out the door.

They exchanged a glance, both scoffed, and got into their vehicles without looking back.

Watching the two military transport vehicles disappear separately at either end of Screw Street, Bai Luming stood for a long time, then silently shook his head.

As the saying goes, man proposes, God disposes. Who would have thought the final outcome would be forced conscription?

He turned back and looked at the person inside. “You’ve been so quiet. Don’t you have anything to say?”

Bai Luming had felt like something was missing earlier, and now he realized—He Yilan had been watching the entire time without even a single sarcastic remark. That was truly unusual.

He Yilan seemed lost in thought. At the question, he glanced at Bai Luming. “You’re going to join the military?”

“What else?” Bai Luming casually collected the empty cups from the table. “Disobeying imperial policy is illegal. I’m a law-abiding citizen, so of course I should actively respond to the nation’s call, meet its needs, and uphold its glory.”

“Quite the patriotic spirit.” He Yilan praised lightly, then mercilessly called him out, “But you didn’t seem to have this attitude earlier.”

“That was then, this is now. Volunteering and being forced are two different situations. Now that refusing isn’t an option…”

Bai Luming seemed remarkably adaptable. He smiled meaningfully at He Yilan. “It’s just reserve selection. I’m an able-bodied adult male—I just didn’t *want* to join the military. It’s not like some people who’d die if they became soldiers.”

He Yilan acted as though he didn’t detect the jab at his pampered upbringing and nodded in agreement. “Indeed, I’d work myself to death.”

Bai Luming had already finished tidying up. “Let’s go, time to head back.”

He Yilan didn’t move. “You go ahead. I have some things to take care of.”

Bai Luming shot him a glance but didn’t ask further. He simply tossed the repair shop keys to him. “Alright. Remember to lock up when you leave.”

After Bai Luming left, He Yilan selected the necessary components and assembled a temporary communicator as he had before.

This forced conscription policy had been issued suddenly. Although the two colonels had come for their young boss, He Yilan, listening to their conversation, couldn’t help but consider another, less favorable possibility.

He needed to confirm something.

The communication connected quickly. He Yilan got straight to the point. “Which jurisdiction did you assign for my identity?”

Tang Siqin, receiving a communication from him for the second time that day, thought something major had happened. He was caught off guard by the question. “I just picked an address in the northern part of the lower city in Sector 6-23 on the desolate planet. Aren’t you nearby there now? Is there a problem?”

He Yilan fell into a long silence.

Tang Siqin: “Boss? Hello? Can you hear me, Boss?”

“I can hear you.” He Yilan’s voice was utterly devoid of emotion. “Why did you choose this place?”

“Huh? Of course, for your convenience. If I arranged the new identity in another star system, I’d have to fabricate travel records, and there’d be too many gaps to fill.” Tang Siqin faintly detected the icy tone in He Yilan’s voice and cautiously asked, “Did something go wrong with the identity this time?”

He Yilan: “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Good.” Tang Siqin breathed a slight sigh of relief. “Did you contact me just to ask about the identity? Or… have you made some progress? I didn’t get to ask this morning—when do you plan to return? How long do I need to hold down the fort? I’d like to mentally prepare.”

He Yilan: “I’m not returning.”

Tang Siqin: “Huh?”

He Yilan’s tone grew even colder. “You arranged things well this time, so there’s no need to contact me for a long while. Handle matters at Zhong Sheng Machinery as you see fit. Be mindful of your actions.”

Tang Siqin: “???”

What did he mean, not returning? Why no contact?

How was he, a mere assistant who usually relied on his boss’s authority, supposed to navigate this den of wolves and tigers alone?!

*

A week later, the full list of conscripts was published on the military garrison’s official website.

Just as Liang Deng had said that day, Bai Luming’s district had issued a new policy. At a glance, several familiar names were on the list—all young people who had met the age requirements over the past three years but hadn’t participated in selection.

Overall, not many were automatically enrolled. Most residents in the area were older folks who had long aged out, like Charlie downstairs, who had just turned 36 and was fortunate enough not to be registered.

The bright light was blocked outside the rolling door, leaving the windowless repair shop dim.

Bai Luming sat at the old computer desk, sipping water while scanning the freshly released recruitment list.

Those participating in the reserve forces selection included both men and women, with the youngest just 16 and the oldest just scraping by at the 35-year age limit. Some might be drawn to the glory of military service, while others were simply trying to make ends meet, seeking a military rank to support their families. Whatever their reasons, among these individuals would emerge the new hope for the Empire’s legions.

Youthful drive is a good thing.

Bai Luming couldn’t help but muse.

Before coming to the desolate planet, reviewing lists submitted from various regions had been one of his yearly duties.

Of course, the names that reached him had all been carefully selected—some would serve in the White Flame Legion, while others would be assigned to lesser regiments. Back then, however, he hadn’t felt the stark reality of “a brutal competition where few succeed” as acutely as he did now.

Bai Luming still remembered the scene from three years ago. He had just submitted his 18th resignation request to His Majesty and, unsurprisingly, was rejected. Disappointed and disheartened, he took a six-month leave to leave the military and clear his mind. By chance, he encountered a warp jump malfunction on an interstellar flight and ended up on this desolate planet.

The past felt vivid as yesterday. The old repairman had saved him and brought him home, then let him inherit the identity of his deceased son, allowing Bai Luming to smoothly pull off a clean ‘death’ and vanish.

In truth, Bai Luming felt that Old Lu had always known his true identity, but the two had an unspoken agreement never to bring it up.

As memories surfaced, Bai Luming looked at his own name on the list and sighed with even more irony.

Back in the day, leading the White Flame Legion across the stars, who would have thought that after all these years, half a lifetime spent in military service, he’d return as a fresh recruit?

Well, since he was here, he might as well go with the flow.

Soldiering was his bread and butter, after all. Now, he was just participating in the reserve forces selection. He could find an opportunity to put in a mediocre performance within the rules and get himself eliminated soon enough to return home.

After finishing the water in his cup, Bai Luming’s gaze casually scanned down.

When he saw the name on the last line of the list, his eyebrows raised slightly: “Hmm?”

Yi Lan.

Now that’s a familiar name.

Just then, a tall figure emerged from inside the room, came into view, holding a water cup identical to his own.

As Bai Luming looked over, their eyes met.

Scanning He Yilan’s nearly expressionless face, Bai Luming worked hard to make his tone sound less delighted: “Fancy meeting you here, you’re on the conscription list too?”

He Yilan: “…”

The greeting was straightforward and quite provocative.

He Yilan shot him a look: “Yes, same as you.”

Neither of them had escaped fate, so neither should laugh at the other.

“Indeed the same.” For some reason, Bai Luming felt his days-long funk suddenly vanish.

It’s true—what often matters isn’t whether you’re unlucky, but whether you’re the only one unlucky.

Bai Luming walked up to He Yilan, finally allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward. He glanced sideways at the other’s frosty demeanor and asked with genuine concern: “You sure you’re cut out for soldiering?”

“It’s not about whether I can handle it or not,” He Yilan replied without inflection. “Worst case scenario? I die there.”

The latter part of the sentence made Bai Luming laugh out loud.

He blinked slowly and leaned in closer: “No need to be so pessimistic. How about this—if you call me ‘big brother,’ I’ll have your back when the time comes, boss.”

They were about the same height, and in terms of actual age, Bai Luming was actually two years younger than He Yilan.

Saying this now was undoubtedly taking the teasing too far.

Have his back?

If he remembered correctly, not long ago, someone had just promised to take responsibility for him.

He Yilan snorted inwardly. The sarcastic remark was already on the tip of his tongue, but when he looked up, he met Bai Luming’s playful eyes, which were almost right up in his face.

Because of the close distance, those eyes were now filled with his own reflection.

He Yilan’s eyelids lowered slightly, and a thought suddenly crossed his mind. His lips quirked into a meaningful smile: “Alright…”

“Big brother.”

The lingering tone landed clearly in the quiet room. He Yilan was satisfied to see Bai Luming’s originally mocking smile freeze for an instant.

Their intertwined breaths suddenly seemed to swallow up the space around them.

It wasn’t until Bai Luming finally processed it that he looked at He Yilan in disbelief: “You really have no shame at all, do you?”

He Yilan noticed Bai Luming surreptitiously rubbing his earlobe as he spoke and let out a light chuckle: “Likewise.”