Chapter 61

The medic said: "You don't know what it was like then. We went to clean up the battlefield three days later. That battle cost us dearly, and we were thinking of scavenging some swords and blades to use..."

Huo Jilin didn't call him out at the time. Clearing the battlefield was standard practice after every battle back then—first, to gather the bones of fallen comrades, and second, to collect the equipment, which was precious in those days.

And if they could score some loot off the dead, even better.

That's how they spotted the jade around his neck buried under all those bodies.

The medic continued: "You were buried deep, with several corpses stacked on top of you. Good thing you were on the bottom, or the ants would've picked you clean. And on top of the ants, you had wasteland vultures pecking at every corpse they saw. By the time we got there, your pile was basically one giant ant nest..."

Huo Jilin couldn't help but gag to the side. Even after all this time, thinking about it again still made him want to puke—he'd been dug out of a pile of dead bodies.

He really didn't want to revisit that memory unless he absolutely had to.

As the medic had said, he was indeed saved because of a piece of jade.

That big-shot general recognized the jade. The original owner must've had the family heirloom jade on him when he went to war, maybe thinking it'd come in handy when racking up military merit—but in the end, it was this jade that saved Huo Jilin's ass.

Huo Jilin thought about it, reached inside his robe, pulled out the jade, and handed it to Chen Jue: "This is my Huo family's heirloom jade. Take it. It should be worth a good amount of silver."

He swapped out the last line from what he'd originally planned to say.

The light was dim, so Chen Jue didn't look at it closely. He just ran his fingers over it and knew it was quality jade—smooth and warm, like suet, milky white. Had to be top-grade mutton-fat jade.

He handed the jade back, but Huo Jilin wouldn't take it, so he set it on the table: "I don't want it. It's your family heirloom—you hang onto it. It might be useful later."

"Later?" Huo Jilin smiled. "We'll deal with later when it comes. The time isn't right yet."

When the time was right, this jade might come in handy.

Like when the Huo family made their comeback.

Huo Jilin wasn't doing this for the original owner, or to earn merit for the Huo family. He'd won on the battlefield because he'd had no choice.

If he didn't win, he'd be the one dead.

And also—one of his subordinates, a brother-in-arms who'd flown planes for him after getting out of the military, had also been reborn into the body of a guerrilla general who'd died fighting like hell on the front lines.

That guy had a heart set on serving his country, and being reborn into that general's body had lit a fire of patriotism in him. He swore he'd drive the Northern Yuan Tartars out of the Central Plains.

He didn't stop to think that the Northern Yuan Tartars were just northwestern nomads—in modern times, they were their own people.

But then again, they saw the Northern Yuan Tartars as kin, while the Tartars saw them as enemies and killed without blinking. So why show any mercy?

Later, they ran into another brother-in-arms.

His steward wasn't among those soldiers—maybe it depended on who you were.

Anyway, the two comrades they met both looked exactly like their original selves, with scruffy beards from crawling around on the battlefield. But because they looked like they'd been through hell on the battlefield, they recognized each other the moment they laid eyes on each other. After that, the three of them began discussing strategies.

But even three geniuses put together couldn't turn the tide of a battle back then.

They'd lost too many men—couldn't even scrape together a proper squad for an attack.

And the three of them were modern people. Even if they'd served three years in the military and gone through countless live-fire exercises, they'd never truly been on a real front line.

And it was all cold weapons. If he'd had a gun, maybe he could've fought. But with cold weapons, he was helpless.

Huo Jilin took a long breath. Those months of war were pure hell.

What he'd told Chen Jue—"I went through hell on the battlefield"—wasn't an exaggeration. It was the truth.

As long as you still had all your limbs, you had to go to the battlefield. And once you were out there, you were fighting for your life every damn day.

It was only after several battles of crawling through the mud that they figured out the enemy's tactics, and only then did he craft an ancient version of a flash grenade—or more accurately, a smoke bomb.

It was perfect for desert warfare. When the wind kicked up, they could use the weather and terrain to their advantage and win.

Thanks to that Huo family heirloom jade, the big-shot general agreed to see him. He talked the general into going along with his plan. They used the desert's sandstorm weather, set up an ambush ahead of time, and under the cover of smoke bombs, captured the Crown Prince of Northern Yuan alive, forcing the enemy army to retreat. That gave the imperial court a chance to sit down and negotiate with the Northern Yuan Tartars' royal court.

So it was a win pulled off through clever tactics.

A close call.

Chen Jue was getting tired from listening to such a long story. He stretched out his legs, and Huo Jilin shoved his own pillow behind Chen Jue's back: "Lean back."

Chen Jue leaned back comfortably and thanked him, then asked: "You made smoke bombs? Not landmines?"

If he'd made landmines, wouldn't that have been a total game-changer?

Huo Jilin shook his head. "Just smoke bombs."

Chen Jue couldn't help asking, "You don't know how to make gunpowder?" He wasn't mocking him—he genuinely figured Huo Jilin should know.

As a soldier, and a pretty high-ranking officer at that, this kind of explosives knowledge should be burned into his brain.

Someone like Huo Jilin shouldn't be clueless about this.

Huo Jilin smiled. He did know how to make gunpowder, but he couldn't—at least not back then.

He explained it to Chen Jue.

The Northern Yuan Tartars were nomads. Their royal court was deep in the wilderness, and they couldn't take it in one go—they probably couldn't even find it.

But the Great Liang was a different story.

The capital was sitting right there. Even if the city walls were a meter thick, they couldn't hold up against explosives.

Inventing gunpowder back then would've been digging their own grave.

Don't underestimate how fast the enemy could copy it.

After the smoke bombs were made, the cleanup crews would occasionally spot shady figures poking around in the yellow sand looking for clues.

Forget something as powerful as gunpowder.

Hearing that, Chen Jue shot Huo Jilin a surprised look.

He'd thought this through? On this big a scale?

Seeing that look, Huo Jilin felt like taking a deep breath. Was his reputation with Chen Jue really that bad?

He was, after all, a soldier—one who put national interests first.

"I have my principles! I'm not a traitor!" Huo Jilin snapped.

Chen Jue coughed. "That's not what I meant. I just figured you'd make gunpowder first and blow a few things up."

Knowing Huo Jilin's usual style, wouldn't he blow everyone up first and suppress them with an iron fist?

Which decision at Zhonghai Hospital hadn't he made that way?

Huo Jilin laughed in exasperation—so Chen Jue really didn't think highly of him.

He shot Chen Jue a glare but still felt the need to defend himself: "I did think about that, but tough measures have to adapt to the times, the place, and the person."

"Oh, so you're just playing it by ear. So it turns out our Zhonghai Hospital just isn't enough to make you, Mr. Huo, lower your standards."

Chen Jue said flatly.

He even used "Mr. Huo."

That conversation couldn't go any further.

He was no longer the lofty Huo Jilin of before, nor the great general—he was just a commoner now, and he and Chen Jue were simply ordinary folks.

He'd been in this village for nearly a month now, and in that month, he truly hadn't thought about affairs of state. He even wanted to just settle down in this small village with Chen Jue.

Every day, going up the mountain to gather herbs and chop wood, coming home to cook and do laundry—that was pretty nice too.

That was his honest thought, and he was shocked by his own change.

He didn't know why he had changed like this.

Maybe it was because he had died once.

Chen Jue was silent for a moment. Outside, the thunder had stopped, and rain was falling now, pattering down.

The sound of rain brought a sense of security—a rustling, hypnotic sound.

Huo Jilin looked at him and said in a low voice, "Chen Jue, we've both died once. How about we just settle down in this small mountain village from now on?

No more worrying about affairs of state, no seeking wealth or glory—just hoping for safety and peace, a stable life in this world, alright?"

Words like that sounded fake coming from his mouth—never something the old Huo Jilin would have said—but it was precisely how he truly felt.

His only wish now was for Chen Jue to be safe, to safely give birth to this child, and to live on safely.

Seeing that Chen Jue's expression hadn't changed, Huo Jilin continued, "In this world, only the two of us are alike—souls from another world, different from the ones here."

Huo Jilin didn't think about his two comrades or his steward.

Between him and Chen Jue, no one else could come between them, not even his closest people.

He wanted to keep Chen Jue—not just keep his life, but also keep his feelings.

Huo Jilin continued smiling at him: "In this world, besides me, there's no one else you can fully trust or rely on..."

Chen Jue interrupted him: "Why should I rely on you? Can't I do it by myself?"

Had he had any problems in the four months he'd been here alone?

Huo Jilin choked for a moment, only then realizing that Chen Jue didn't have any other thoughts about him at all.

He was different from himself—he had already realized his feelings for Chen Jue.

But Chen Jue hadn't.

He knew Chen Jue was gay.

It wasn't that he'd deliberately pried; it was Dean Chen who had mentioned it. When talking about the future heir of Zhonghai Hospital, Dean Chen had let it slip while complaining that Chen Jue had no one to take over.

Chen Jue was gay, yet he had never considered him as an option, even though they were the only two of their kind in this world.

This was a result Huo Jilin hadn't expected. He never thought he'd fail so completely. Born at the top of the pyramid, with looks, wealth, and status, he still hadn't caught Chen Jue's attention.

Well, that was Chen Jue for you.

Just yesterday, the two had been ready to kill each other. Chen Jue would have to be crazy to change his opinion of him overnight, let alone go from enemy to lover.

Absolutely ridiculous.

It was his own arrogance, assuming Chen Jue would naturally come to like him the way he had.

Huo Jilin sat in silence for a long while, struck by this sudden defeat. When he saw Chen Jue about to sleep, he took a deep breath and spoke again: "What I mean is, in this world, only the two of us share the same worldview. If we work together, we can accomplish great feats in this world and rewrite history."

Since the emotional approach wasn't working.

He'd try another way.

Chen Jue's yawn was cut halfway short, tears almost welling up from the shock—he was now fully awake.

He leaned back, though there was only a wall behind him, trying to put as much distance between himself and Huo Jilin as possible: "You want to be emperor?"

Huo Jilin: "..."

Author's note:

Happy May Day, everyone! Here's an extra chapter for you—there'll be another one tonight.