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

The sound of Bai Ye falling into the snow was very soft. The snow covered half of his cheek, and the ice crystals melted against his skin, condensing into tiny water droplets on his eyelashes.

In the dead of night in this Gobi Desert, all was silent. Then, a white shadow slowly descended from the distant hillside.

It was a white wolf.

It was a size larger than an ordinary wolf, with high shoulder blades, long and powerful limbs, and fluffy white fur that shimmered with a silvery-gray luster under the moonlight.

Its nose sniffed the air, locking onto the figure lying on the ground at the edge of the training field. To a wolf, an unconscious human means opportunity.

The white wolf's amber eyes flashed in the moonlight, and the muscles at the corners of its mouth lifted slightly, revealing a few sharp canine teeth.

It took a step and walked towards Bai Ye. Ten meters, five meters, three meters. It lowered its head, its warm breath brushing against the back of Bai Ye's neck, and opened its mouth.

Then it froze.

It wasn't frightened by the sound, nor startled by the light. It was a fear more primal than sound or light, deeply ingrained in its genetic instincts—the intent to kill.

The murderous intent enveloped it without warning, as if an invisible hand had gripped its throat, squeezing it tightly from the inside out. The white wolf suddenly raised its head.

Thirty meters away, a tall, slender figure stood on the snow. Moonlight shone from behind him, casting a long, dark shadow on the snow.

He wasn't wearing a coat, just a black turtleneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing a section of skin so white it almost blended into the snow.

His posture was relaxed, with his hands hanging at his sides, without any aggressive stance, neither holding a gun nor drawing a knife. But his very existence was a weapon.

Bai Chen looked at it.

That face was unrealistically beautiful in the snow, as if it had been casually sculpted by some being beyond the realm of human aesthetics. But what truly made the white wolf tuck its tail between its legs was not his face, but the aura emanating from him—it wasn't murderous intent, but a kind of icy, empty, unfathomable nothingness, like the permafrost of Siberia, like the darkness of the deep sea ten thousand meters below the surface.

He said nothing, did nothing, but simply standing there instilled fear in a wolf capable of surviving alone in the Gobi Desert to its very core.

The white wolf tucked its tail between its legs.

In less than three seconds, its body transformed from "predator" to "submissive"—limbs bent, belly pressed to the ground, ears folded back, and it lay completely on the snow. A low whimper escaped its throat, a stark contrast to its earlier snarling, pre-attack stance.

Bai Chen didn't speak. He strode over, his combat boots crunching softly on the snow. When he reached the white wolf, he didn't lower his head, but instead looked down at the trembling wolf clinging to the ground.

"Look closely at this face." Every word he spoke was like an ice bead, striking the white wolf's eardrums one by one. "This is my brother. My only brother. My precious darling."

The white wolf lowered its ears further, its chin resting on the snow, and the whimpering in its throat became even softer, as if repeatedly saying, "I know, I know, I know."

"If you dare show him your teeth again—"

"Woo." The white wolf interrupted him with a short whimper, its tail sweeping quickly across the snow twice—a standard "I understand completely" body language.

"Get lost."

The white wolf leaped from the snow, tucked its tail between its legs, and ran off without looking back. It only dared to glance back once it was quite a distance away before speeding up and disappearing into the darkness of the hillside.

The training ground fell silent again. Snowflakes began to fall again, tiny, fine particles landing on Bai Chen's eyelashes. He bent down and lifted Bai Ye from the snow.

Bai Ye's body was very light. Abnormally light.

The training uniform, soaked by snowmelt, clung to his body, allowing Bai Chen to clearly feel how thin this body was—the outline of the shoulder blades pressed against his palm through the wet fabric, the shape of the ribs was clearly visible, and the waist was so thin that he could wrap his arm around it completely.

Bai Chen frowned. He pulled Bai Ye closer to him, using his own bare body to shield him from the night wind blowing across the Gobi Desert.

Then he looked down at Bai Ye's face. Compared to the fair-skinned little dumpling he remembered, this face had changed so much that it pained his heart.

Bai Chen stood in the snow, holding Bai Ye in his arms, their shadows overlapping in the moonlight.

He looked at Bai Ye's lips, which were white from the cold, and at the slight wrinkle between his brows that hadn't completely smoothed out even in his unconscious state. Something inside him was bleeding little by little.

This is the precious child he raised with utmost care.

When he left, Bai Ye was only ten years old, a soft, white ball of fur, who would run into his room with a pillow when she heard thunder.

Bai Chen gently wiped the snow water off Bai Ye's face with his thumb, his movements were extremely gentle, completely unlike the person he was when he was skinning people and sawing bones in the basement.

His fingertips lingered on Bai Ye's cheek for a long time.

His younger brother—the one he had sworn to protect for life, the one he would never let anyone touch—was forced to learn to face everything alone during the years he was away.

Bai Chen pressed Bai Ye's face against his chest and took a deep breath. The breath he inhaled was icy cold, but the breath he exhaled was hot and trembling.

He had killed countless people in his life, and the skins he had peeled could cover an entire training ground, but he had never felt as if he had been pierced through by something as he did at this moment.

He carried Bai Ye into the dormitory building.

The corridor lights were still on. He silently pushed open the door to Group A's dormitory. Xie Ran was still snoring, Shen Zhuo had kicked off half of his blanket, and Xie Huai'an turned over but didn't wake up.

Bai Chen walked to Bai Ye's bedside, bent down, and gently placed him on the bed. His movements were extremely slow and steady, as if he were placing a fragile, priceless treasure. He pulled the blanket up to Bai Ye's chin, tucked the corners of the blanket into his shoulders, and then pressed the back of his hand against his forehead—thankfully, he didn't have a fever.

Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the curtains, falling on Bai Ye's face.

Bai Chen sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at him for a long time. Then he bent down and gently pressed his lips to Bai Ye's forehead, kissing him lightly. The kiss was very light, as if afraid of waking a dream.

"Wait for me to come back."

He straightened up, turned and walked out of the dormitory. The door closed silently behind him.

The moonlight shone on Bai Ye's face. His eyelashes fluttered, and his brows seemed to relax a little, but he ultimately did not wake up.