Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

A tall, slender figure appeared silently behind Xie Ran, moving so fast it seemed to grow out of thin air.

He was dressed in a crisp military doctor's uniform, the cuffs buttoned up meticulously, the collar crisp, and a medical bag slung over his shoulder with the Red Cross emblem. He pulled his right hand out of the medical bag with light, precise movements, his index and middle fingers pressed together, the tips covered with a thin layer of calluses from years of holding a scalpel, the knuckles clearly visible in the sunlight.

His attack was incredibly fast, so fast that even Lu Xiao only saw a blur – his fingertip precisely placed on an acupoint two inches above Xie Ran's right elbow joint. The force wasn't great, but the landing point was extremely tricky, as if it had been measured with a ruler.

Xie Ran felt his right arm instantly lose all strength, and his fingers involuntarily loosened their grip on Shen Zhuo's wrist. It wasn't numbness, it wasn't pain, it was that his arm suddenly became uncontrollable—his brain issued the "clench" command, his nerves transmitted the signal, but his muscles didn't react at all, and his entire right arm hung limply at his side like a limp noodle, swaying twice.

His over-the-shoulder throw was abruptly interrupted halfway through, and Shen Zhuo took the opportunity to slip out of his grasp, staggering several steps before regaining her balance. Xie Ran turned his head sharply, clutching his numb right arm with his left hand, his face filled with shock and rage.

Then he saw the person behind him.

The man stood on the sand, against the afternoon sun, the hem of his military doctor's uniform fluttering slightly in the wind.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with handsome and gentle features, fair skin, and wearing a pair of very thin gold-rimmed glasses. Behind the lenses, his eyes were gentle and calm, like a pool of warm water in spring.

A faint smile played on his lips—not the cunning of Lu Xiao, who was always scheming, nor the restrained and measured politeness of Xie Huai'an, but a gentle smile that came from the heart and made people want to lower their guard.

"Dr. Wen!" Xie Ran's eyes lit up, his earlier agitation from being acupunctured vanished instantly, and his voice was so loud it seemed he wanted to announce it to the entire training ground, "You're back? When did you get back? Didn't you say you wouldn't be back until next week—"

"It's over early," Wen Yan said, withdrawing her hand and adjusting her gold-rimmed glasses. The smile on her lips remained unchanged, and her tone was as gentle as if she were talking to a child. "The situation over there was simpler than expected, so I came back early. I had just arrived at the base and hadn't even put my luggage down when I heard that Group A had been to the infirmary twice in one day."

Shen Zhu peeked out from behind Xie Ran, his red hair damp with sweat and plastered to his forehead. His smile was unusually genuine, without any hint of joking, purely out of joy at seeing Wen Yan: "Brother Wen Yan! We were so bored while you were gone—last time we had a scrambled skin during training with Group B, the medic who was covering for us was scrubbing like a pig when he was disinfecting it. Your technique is so much gentler, he can't compare to you."

"Go easy on him?" Wen Yan looked down at the old, still-healing scrape on Shen Zhuo's knee, then looked up at Xie Ran, who was still grimacing and rubbing his arm. "How many times have I told you the rules of the training field—sparring is fine, but stop when you've got enough. If you had actually done that over-the-shoulder throw, Shen Zhuo would have been lying on the ground for at least half a day. He's an assault soldier; if there's a mission tomorrow, are you going to take his place?"

Xie Ran opened his mouth, wanting to say that he knew what he was doing, that he wouldn't hurt Shen Zhuo, and that Shen Zhuo was tough and wouldn't be hurt by a fall. But under Wen Yan's gentle yet scrutinizing gaze, all his explanations seemed to have been predicted. His mouth opened and closed several times, but in the end he just lowered his head, staring at his training boots like a naughty child caught by his homeroom teacher.

Shen Zhuo chuckled smugly to himself, but was caught by Wen Yan's glance—just one glance, and Shen Zhuo's smile vanished instantly, and he shrank back.

Xie Huai'an walked over from the sidelines. He exchanged a brief glance with Wen Yan, then pointed to Xie Ran's right arm, which was still hanging limply at his side: "Dr. Wen, help him untie it first. If that arm stays hanging down, he'll slack off during training tomorrow."

Wen Yan smiled and gently tapped Xie Ran's shoulder with her hand—her fingertips landed on a point on the inside of his shoulder blade, the force was so light that it was almost like a caress.

Xie Ran felt a warm current rush from his shoulder along the meridians of his arm to his fingertips. The sensation in his entire arm returned instantly. He tentatively clenched his fist, his five fingers opening and closing freely, as if the limp arm that had been hanging there just moments before was not his at all.

He flexed his fingers, his face regaining that rough, goofy grin typical of men, and rubbed his nose, trying to make conversation. Shen Zhuo, standing beside him, had his eyes shining, tugging at Wen Yan's sleeve and asking what the acupoint was called and if he could teach him so he could immobilize people in a fight.

"These are life-saving techniques, not for you to fight." Wen Yan flicked his forehead.

On the other side of the training ground, Xuan Xiao stood next to Bai Ye, his mouth agape since Wen Yan appeared.

He watched as Wen Yan paralyzed Xie Ran's entire arm with just two fingers, then restored it to its original state with a flick of his wrist, and reprimanded two veteran soldiers from Group A on the training field as if they were his grandsons—this was no ordinary military doctor.

"Holy crap," he finally found his voice, turning to look at Lu Xiao, who was leaning against the horizontal bar with a grin, "That's amazing? Just—just a light touch, and Xie Ran's arm was ruined? And then just a light tap, and it was fine? Is he a doctor or something out of a martial arts novel?"

Lu Xiao placed the water bottle on the table, put his hands in his pockets, and smiled with the unfathomable wisdom of someone with experience: "Wen Yan, the medic accompanying Team A, is also the only doctor in the entire Pokong team who can subdue three fully armed assault team members with his bare hands. His most glorious achievement—one year during a border mission, a new recruit in the team was hit in the thigh by a stray bullet. He dragged the man into cover, removed the bullet, stitched him up, and then rushed out of the cover again, using a scalpel to take down two mercenaries who tried to flank him. Every move hit a pressure point, and the other side didn't even have time to raise their guns. From then on, no one in Pokong dared to talk back to Dr. Wen during training." He paused, and the corners of his mouth curved up even more, "Including your captain."

Just then, Wen Yan's gaze passed through Xie Ran, Shen Zhuo, and Xie Huai'an surrounding him, and over Xuan Xiao and Lu Xiao, who were still discussing "whether acupoint striking can be used in combat" on the edge of the sand, and landed steadily on Bai Ye.

Bai Ye seemed to be trying to minimize his presence, but the newly bandaged wounds were too conspicuous. Wen Yan's brow furrowed very slightly, then he strode towards him.