That night, the new young caregiver officially started his duties.
Ning Zhuo’s injury wasn’t in the bones, so it wasn’t too severe, but the waist is the body’s axis, and Ning Zhuo relied on his legs for close combat. Without the waist to support him, the legs were also useless.
Even with advancements in medicine, healing muscle and bone injuries still took time, though now shortened from one hundred days to a month. Bed rest remained the most reliable and safest option.
To play it safe, Ning Zhuo was granted a rare period of leisure for recovery.
By all accounts, he should have been bored to death. But with a sweet-talking little companion by his side, the days flew by without him even realizing it.
Ever since learning Ning Zhuo’s name, Xiao Bai had naturally switched to a new form of address. On the first day he moved into Ning Zhuo’s room, he curiously asked from the window, “Ning-ge, do you wear perfume?”
Ning Zhuo shot him a sideways glance.
Since that night of scorching flames, Ning Zhuo often suffered from headaches and hallucinations. To relieve the pain, he would apply peppermint oil to his temples, which left a light, fresh, and bitter scent on him all year round.
Ning Zhuo himself hated the smell, thinking it was no different from medicine. And who would like the smell of medicine?
But seeing Xiao Bai sniffing the air, seemingly enjoying it, Ning Zhuo was a bit puzzled. He discreetly lifted his sleeve and gave it a sniff.
…Conclusion: this little thing had unique tastes.
Xiao Bai set up a bed and slept right next to Ning Zhuo. He fed him, buttoned his shirt, massaged his waist with medicinal oil, and endured Ning Zhuo’s furious cursing from the pain, softly soothing him with “It’ll be over soon, just a moment longer.” He multitasked so much that it still wasn’t enough to keep him busy.
Xiao Bai could do anything, and he did it quickly and efficiently, always reading Ning Zhuo’s needs with perfect timing. A single glance from Ning Zhuo, and Xiao Bai would hand him exactly what he wanted. That sharp attentiveness hinted at a level of worldliness beyond his years.
No child who hadn’t suffered greatly could be as thorough as he was.
Compared to Ning Zhuo’s severely injured waist, “Haina” handled external wounds much more effectively. The through-and-through injury on his shoulder healed quickly.
A bright red round scar now marked the side of his shoulder, with jagged edges. Through his thin white shirt, it looked like a strikingly beautiful birthmark.
Xiao Bai gently touched the scar through the fabric with his fingers, bit by bit. “Ning-ge, does it hurt?”
Ning Zhuo, eyes closed, replied, “Take your hand away. If you keep touching it, it’ll start hurting again.”
Xiao Bai obediently pulled his hand back but refused to move his gaze, staring at him intently.
Ning Zhuo pretended not to notice the way Xiao Bai studied him.
He still hadn’t fully let his guard down regarding Xiao Bai’s identity and was tempted to have a “Tuner” look into him. But with the newly established “Haina” base and all the expenses piling up, and the “Tuners” being all about money, charging family members for their services, it wasn’t worth spending extra just to investigate Xiao Bai.
Why use a sledgehammer to kill a fly?
Xiao Bai was so young. If he ever had any ill intentions, Ning Zhuo could deal with him with one hand.
Occasionally, when Ning Zhuo skimmed through the constantly updated missing persons reports or wanted notices in the Silver Hammer Daily, he would pay extra attention for a moment.
There was a lot of separation and suffering in the world, but it didn’t seem to concern Xiao Bai. No one was searching for someone like him.
Because Xiao Bai was so clingy and didn’t even blush after being scolded—still smiling and following behind Ning Zhuo—Ning Zhuo eventually got used to having him around.
The other members of “Haina” were amazed by this.
Ning Zhuo had a temper and a sharp tongue, and to most of the team, he was the kind of second-in-command best admired from a distance. Spending time near him was like being in a cold wind, let alone trying to cozy up to him.
Xiao Bai’s response to these questions was always the same: “I think Ning-ge is a great person.”
Ning Zhuo overheard both the team’s gossip and Xiao Bai’s replies. He found it amusing and concluded that Xiao Bai was blind at such a young age.
Still, it was rare to meet someone who wasn’t afraid of him.
As the winter deepened and it became impossible to go out and see flowers, Xiao Bai would cut out a new flower from scraps every day, twisting wire into branches and leaves, and placing them in a wide-mouthed cup filled with water, forming a rather large bouquet by Ning Zhuo’s bedside.
Each flower was different—some made from tin cans, velvet, steel, or red paper. The colors and types were varied and abundant.
For Xiao Bai, life always seemed lively and full of warmth.
At first, Ning Zhuo still doubted Xiao Bai’s identity and didn’t let him leave the house. Xiao Bai, however, contented himself with keeping busy indoors, adding little touches here and there until, bit by bit, the place started to feel like a home.
Once they grew more familiar, Ning Zhuo allowed him to leave the room, though he still wasn’t allowed to leave the base.
Xiao Bai wasn’t shy, chatting with anyone he met and charming people until they were dizzy. He even managed to uncover a few juicy secrets about some members of “Haina” and their relationships, excitedly sharing them with Ning Zhuo. Ning Zhuo listened with yawns, eventually pinching Xiao Bai’s mouth shut to make him stop.
Ning Zhuo: “Talk less.”
Xiao Bai: “Mmm mmm mmm.”
Ning Zhuo: “…A normal kid would just say ‘okay’ at this point.”
Xiao Bai said nothing, instead flashing a sweet, infectious smile that nearly made Ning Zhuo mimic the expression.
Luckily, he resisted.
Perhaps due to his good mood, Ning Zhuo’s recovery progressed far faster than before, and this time, remarkably, he didn’t suffer any aftereffects—quite the relief.
Once Ning Zhuo could walk freely again, he resumed his neglected training routine.
In the spacious solo training room, he stretched, pressed his legs, and loosened his hips, gradually pulling and easing open the joints and muscles that had stiffened over the past month.
To Xiao Bai, Ning Zhuo’s actions were no different from self-torture, and watching from the side made him grit his teeth in discomfort.
After a month without proper training, Ning Zhuo’s once flexible and nimble body inevitably became rigid. The gap between his femur and hip joint had also narrowed considerably, making it difficult to stretch.
Drenched in sweat but expressionless, Ning Zhuo turned his head and saw Xiao Bai standing on the sidelines.
He wiped his sweat with the side of his shoulder and said, “Come here.”
Xiao Bai quickly ran over.
Ning Zhuo: “Step on my calf… the right one.”
Cautiously, Xiao Bai extended his foot and obediently followed instructions.
Ning Zhuo turned to look at him, “I said step. Use your weight, stand on it.”
Xiao Bai continued to follow directions.
At such a close distance, Xiao Bai watched as Ning Zhuo bent his leg into an unbelievable angle, his body forming beautiful curves of taut muscles. Through the skin, the muscles trembled from the strain, and sweat dripped down his pale face, splashing onto the ground in clear, crystal droplets.
After three minutes, Ning Zhuo’s legs had built up enough strength. With a sudden release, he kicked out and, right in front of Xiao Bai, knocked the head off a training dummy.
Ning Zhuo was drenched in satisfying sweat.
Xiao Bai eagerly handed him a towel, and Ning Zhuo buried his entire face in it.
Just as he did, he realized the towel had been soaked in hot water. The warm, damp scent felt clean and refreshing against his face.
As he waited for his sweat to stop, Ning Zhuo happened to glance up and noticed Xiao Bai staring straight at him. Xiao Bai’s fingertips were flushed from the heat, but his eyes were filled with unabashed admiration and appreciation.
Xiao Bai said, “Ning-ge, teach me.”
Ning Zhuo lightly tapped the edge of Xiao Bai’s head with the towel, saying nothing in return.
Though he ignored Xiao Bai and didn’t teach him anything, Ning Zhuo also didn’t tell him to leave.
Xiao Bai stayed, imitating Ning Zhuo’s moves, and ended up dislocating his wrist.
Ning Zhuo carried him back.
Min Min arrived ten minutes later.
It was the first time Min Min had been summoned by Ning Zhuo himself, which shocked him. He even stopped snacking on his sunflower seeds and jogged over, fearing Ning Zhuo had injured himself severely.
When he saw that it was just a kid with a dislocated joint, Min Min didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. While resetting Xiao Bai’s bone, he turned to Ning Zhuo and asked, “Did you do this on purpose to mess with him?”
Ning Zhuo stood with his arms crossed, indifferent. “He insisted on learning from me.”
Xiao Bai, sweating from the pain, nodded through his discomfort. “Yeah. I wanted to learn.”
Ning Zhuo awkwardly scratched his eyebrow.
He had indeed done it on purpose, not stopping the kid from practicing recklessly. His goal was to make Xiao Bai give up.
Xiao Bai suffered from the pain but didn’t quit.
The next day, all of Xiao Bai’s muscles were sore to varying degrees, and his face scrunched up in pain as he got out of bed. Yet, he still stubbornly followed Ning Zhuo around like a little shadow.
Ning Zhuo’s faint conscience pricked at him. He didn’t have Xiao Bai practice martial arts anymore but instead took him to the shooting range.
While crouching down to put noise-canceling headphones on the boy, Ning Zhuo casually asked, “Have you ever shot before?”
Xiao Bai curiously looked at the target fifty meters away. “No.”
Ning Zhuo raised an eyebrow at him. “‘No’?”
He had looked quite decisive when he shot the gate of the “Haina” base.
“Really, no.” Xiao Bai shifted his gaze back and smiled brightly. “The first time I saw someone shoot was when Ning-ge did it, so I learned on the spot.”
Regardless of whether it was true or not, Ning Zhuo handed him a handgun and, after briefly explaining the technique, stepped aside to observe.
Xiao Bai practiced holding up his arm for a while but soon grew tired. His muscles hadn’t recovered from the previous day’s soreness, and he glanced at Ning Zhuo with a hint of wanting to slack off.
Ning Zhuo remained unfazed. “Shoot.”
Xiao Bai had no choice but to prop up his arm and prevent it from sagging. He gripped the gun with his left hand and fired five consecutive shots, emptying the magazine.
From the distance came the pleasant sound of the electronic scoring system: “9.9, 10, 10, 9.8, 10.”
For once, Ning Zhuo was genuinely surprised.
He looked down at Xiao Bai and asked, “First time?”
Xiao Bai didn’t hear him and instead tilted his head up, asking, “Was that good or bad?”
But in Ning Zhuo’s eyes, the little dimples on Xiao Bai’s cheeks were faintly visible, and his invisible tail was practically wagging in delight.
Ning Zhuo didn’t waste words. He simply pressed a button on the side.
The enclosed space seemed to come alive, slowly shifting into motion.
The tiles beneath their feet began retracting one by one.
What was originally a 30-meter handgun shooting range reconfigured and transformed into a 10-meter airgun shooting range.
Ning Zhuo handed him an air pistol.
At 10 meters, the diameter of the 7-ring was only 59.5mm.
Ning Zhuo still said the same word: “Shoot.”
Perhaps because he was getting more familiar with it, Xiao Bai’s performance this time was even better than the last.
He even managed to hit a 10.3 and a 10.9.
Xiao Bai seemed to be utterly delighted with this new game, his eyes shining as he looked at Ning Zhuo, waiting for a compliment.
Ning Zhuo didn’t give compliments. He simply drew out the short whip from his boot and tapped Xiao Bai’s headphones with the tip, which was his way of offering encouragement.
That day, a light first snowfall arrived.
The Silver Hammer Daily ran multiple reports on the snow.
In Silver Hammer City, sub-zero temperatures were rare, and snow was something that came only once every three to four years.
The entire city was caught up in a frenzy over the rare snowfall.
But this had little to do with the isolated Haina base.
Today, Haina made dumplings. Xiao Bai was taken by Min Min to decide whether to put peanuts or chili in the dumplings.
He was quite endearing, and Ning Zhuo seemed determined to keep him around for personal training. Because of this, everyone naturally started to treat him as one of their own.
While Xiao Bai was away, Ning Zhuo left the base.
The air, crisp with snow crystals, hit him squarely, rushing into his lungs as if cleansing his entire being from the inside out.
He took a deep breath, found a place to sit, and let both his body and mind empty.
A few minutes later, Xiao Bai poked his head out of the base’s entrance and saw Ning Zhuo sitting at the edge of a towering cliff, his legs dangling over the abyss. Xiao Bai quickly shrank back inside.
When he appeared again, he had wrapped himself tightly in layers, with a black newsboy cap on his head and a thick coat in his arms. His breath turned into puffs of mist as he strode over and, without a word, hugged Ning Zhuo from behind, enveloping him in warmth.
Ning Zhuo patted the ground beside him. “Sit.”
Without hesitation, Xiao Bai sat down.
Below them was a bottomless chasm—just one glance into it would make even someone without a fear of heights feel dizzy.
But Xiao Bai wasn’t afraid at all.
Not only was he unafraid, but he also swung his legs playfully, flashing a carefree grin at Ning Zhuo.
The weather was truly cold. Xiao Bai, with his sharp and handsome features, appeared even more striking, his lips redder and his teeth whiter against the cold.
Ning Zhuo glanced at him and said, “When spring comes, I’ll send you to school.”
Xiao Bai was relishing this rare moment of relaxation. Hearing this, his eyebrows twitched in disbelief, and he looked at Ning Zhuo. “School?”
“Yeah, school.”
Ning Zhuo’s breath came out in thin wisps of fog—his body was naturally cold, even his breath lacked warmth.
“Not everyone is suited for this line of work. There was someone I took in before. He stayed here for a while, and I advised him to go to school too.”
Xiao Bai didn’t respond.
He stared at Ning Zhuo intently, as if trying to see into his very soul. The corners of his mouth were slightly lifted as though he wanted to smile, but there was no laughter in his eyes.
In his gaze was a complexity and scrutiny far beyond his years, as if this was the first time he truly understood Ning Zhuo.
Softly, he called out, “…Ning-ge?”
This was the first time in over a month that they sat down for a serious conversation.
Ning Zhuo didn’t care whether Xiao Bai wanted to go to school or not. He waved his hand and said, “Most mercenaries don’t live past forty. Boss Fu said I wouldn’t make it to eighteen. You live so happily—might as well live a little longer.”
Hearing this, the usually cheerful Xiao Bai suddenly grew somber. “…Ning-ge.”
Ning Zhuo didn’t shy away from the topic of death, so he didn’t understand Xiao Bai’s dissatisfaction. “What?”
Xiao Bai asked, “If you know it’s a dead end, why not take another path?”
Ning Zhuo knew Xiao Bai was mature beyond his years and wasn’t surprised by his suggestion. “This is the only path I can take.”
If he didn’t walk this path, he would go mad from guilt, emptiness, and rage.
“You have many options. Don’t do this.” Ning Zhuo spoke calmly, “…like me, I won’t even know whose hands I’ll die at.”
Silence fell around them, so quiet that the only sound was the snow falling.
Ning Zhuo closed his eyes and took another deep breath.
Before he could finish that breath, Xiao Bai spoke.
“Die at my hands.”
Xiao Bai looked at him, his voice calm, as if stating the obvious: “Ning-ge, if you’re going to die, die by my hands. Don’t die by someone else’s.”
