Not Behaving Lately

Early morning.

When Gu Ruiyu woke up, Zhang Xueming was leaning against the headboard, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, unlit, just idly twirling it. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains outside the window, spilling across the sharp contours of his profile, softening the usual ruthless edge that came with his decisive nature.

"Awake?" Zhang Xueming noticed her stirring, turned his head, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Gu Ruiyu's cheeks flushed. She pulled the blanket up higher, leaving only a pair of glistening eyes exposed, and nodded.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked softly.

Zhang Xueming set the cigarette down on the nightstand, reached over, and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. "I was thinking," he said quietly, "if that Emperor of Japan was sleeping in the Imperial Palace last night, and when he opened his eyes, a few hundred of our soldiers came crashing down through the roof—what do you think his expression would be?"

Gu Ruiyu laughed at his whimsical idea, nuzzling against his chest. "Where would soldiers fall from the sky?"

"Why not?" Zhang Xueming perked up, pinching her cheek. "They're called paratroopers. In the future, our planes won't just drop bombs—they'll drop people. Hundreds of soldiers, dropped right into the enemy's heart. Tell me that's not thrilling."

Gu Ruiyu listened, stunned. She couldn't picture it, but she knew this man always had ideas in his head that others wouldn't even dare to think of.

"Pack your things," Zhang Xueming said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Come back to Fengtian with me."

Gu Ruiyu's heart skipped a beat. She looked up, her eyes carrying a mix of uncertainty and anticipation.

Zhang Xueming met her gaze, hesitated, then sighed and ruffled her hair. "Forget it. Don't come to Fengtian with me just yet. You... go back to your hometown in Tianjin first."

The light in Gu Ruiyu's eyes dimmed instantly. She lowered her gaze and said nothing.

"Silly girl, what are you thinking?" Zhang Xueming lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Go tell your parents that I, Zhang Xueming, want to marry their daughter."

Gu Ruiyu was completely stunned.

She stared at him blankly, lips slightly parted, unable to utter a single word for a long moment.

"What, you don't want to?" Zhang Xueming deliberately put on a stern face.

"I do! I want to!" Gu Ruiyu snapped back to reality as joy flooded over her like a tidal wave. She threw her arms around Zhang Xueming's neck, tears spilling uncontrollably. "I... I thought..."

"Thought what? Thought I was just playing around?" Zhang Xueming patted her back, his tone full of affection. "Anyone I, Zhang Xueming, set my sights on—they're not getting away for the rest of their lives."

He paused, his expression turning serious.

"But this has to be fast."

"We might not have much time."

"Inside the Passes... war is coming."

Fengtian.

The meeting room in the Gongshu Building was buzzing with noise.

A crowd of influential big shots from Outside the Passes surrounded Zhang Xueming in layers, their flattery flowing freely.

"Second Young Master's bandit suppression was truly a thunderous move! Those bandits who'd run wild in the woods for over a decade—gone just like that!"

"Exactly! Second Young Master used a butcher's knife to kill a chicken—a warning to those who don't know their place!"

"Second Young Master is accomplished at such a young age. The Marshal has a worthy successor. Fengtian's good days are still ahead!"

Zhang Xueming leaned back in his chair, nodding politely at the praise but looking distracted. He took a sip of tea, his gaze drifting past the crowd to land on Zhang Xueliang, who was boasting to someone nearby.

"Eldest Brother," Zhang Xueming called out, tilting his chin. "I heard you got first place in your Military Academy graduation exam?"

Zhang Xueliang's face lit up at that. He bounded over in a few steps, plopped down next to Zhang Xueming, and lowered his voice to complain. "Don't even mention it! I'm so annoyed right now!"

"What? First place and you're annoyed?"

"You don't know how nasty the rumors are out there! They're saying the old man put in a word for me, that I cheated my way to first place!" Zhang Xueliang's face was full of indignation. "I earned that with real skill, damn it! It's driving me crazy!"

He gulped down a mouthful of tea, then nudged Zhang Xueming's arm. "You've got it easy. You went out and wiped out some bandits, and now all of Fengtian's singing your praises. Oh, by the way, I heard Guo Songling thinks highly of you. Said you 'have the Marshal's bearing, decisive and ruthless.'"

"Guo Songling?" Zhang Xueming's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. "Not familiar. Don't bring him up to me again."

"Hey, come on," Zhang Xueliang protested. "That guy's a talent! Just has a sharp tongue and loves to argue with me! But let me tell you, he—"

"I only recognize Chief of Staff Yang," Zhang Xueming cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument.

He didn't like Guo Songling, for no particular reason. He just felt there was too much hidden in that man's eyes—too complicated, unlike Yang Yuting, whose mind was straightforward, someone who could get things done solidly.

Zhang Xueliang, having hit a wall, pursed his lips and didn't press further.

Just then, the meeting room door swung open, and the noisy room fell silent instantly.

Zhang Yuting strode in, wearing a crisp military uniform, his gait like a dragon's or a tiger's. His hawk-like eyes swept across the room, and everyone instinctively straightened their backs.