RMM – Chapter 105 The So-Called “Laying Low and Conserving Strength”

Xi Yuechen’s leave request had already been submitted. As he expected, it wasn’t immediately approved; instead, he was instructed to stay with the unit for a few days to train his team members and cultivate mutual coordination. Such rapport would be crucial for future collective missions.

But ultimately, his leave was approved.

Xi Yuechen had executed this mission nearly flawlessly. His superiors, naturally, were very satisfied. Courage without intelligence is the mark of a mere brute; intelligence without courage marks a coward. But now, with the military moving toward informatization, soldiers needed to be fully developed. What good is sheer martial prowess in peacetime?

If Xi Yuechen was both brave and intelligent, some authority could reasonably be delegated to him. After all, he was the direct executor of the plan. Reporting every minor detail to superiors was inconvenient, and some matters couldn’t wait for reports.

In this context of satisfaction and expectation, his superiors naturally became more lenient. For example, this leave wouldn’t normally be allowed—the plan had just started, so how could the executor go on leave?

But in Beijing’s upper echelons, who didn’t know Xi Yuechen—the eldest son of the Xi family? Politicians would say, “The Xi family has a promising son, young and talented, though it’s a pity his ambitions aren’t political.” The military would say, “The Su family has a son-in-law of great talent, a once-in-a-century genius, possibly inheriting Su Feng’s legacy.”

People like Gu Jiawei and Xi Yuechen represented the rising stars of their circles. Others would sigh, lamenting why their own children didn’t measure up.

Of course, there are as many opinions as there are people. Some praised Xi Yuechen, while others scoffed.

Take this time, for instance. The plan’s top person in charge was General Zhou Tingzhang.

General Zhou, of course, knew of Xi Yuechen. He was the son of the Xi family, the Su family’s son-in-law—everyone in Beijing knew these two families. Yet Zhou had little interaction with them. He didn’t question their abilities—they were capable—but Xi Yuechen’s reputation seemed almost mythical.

Having been in the circles long enough, Zhou knew well enough that some reputations could be misleading. How did Xi Yuechen earn his fame? His father and father-in-law might be powerful, but that didn’t necessarily guarantee his talent.

Zhou Tingzhang was straightforward and reclusive, disliking social pleasantries. He had a fearsome temper—much worse than Xi Ping’s. Xi Ping’s temper was bad but directed at issues, not people. Zhou, however, simply refused to tolerate anyone he disliked. One glance of disapproval, and you were done. No one dared seek favor if it displeased him.

Luckily, Zhou had achieved everything through his own efforts. People respected him and didn’t seek to ride his coattails; otherwise, his temperament would have offended too many and impeded his rise. So while he knew of the Xi and Su families, he had no personal connection. Naturally, it was normal for him to know little about Xi Yuechen.

What’s fame or rank if the person isn’t truly talented? When Xi Yuechen’s name was submitted, Zhou hesitated briefly before approving. “This kid is capable. Let’s see how far he can go. If he succeeds, he’s a model soldier. If he fails… hm.”

This approval was also because there was no alternative. If there was only one choice, that choice had to be made—a huge gamble. Not choosing would delay the plan, causing an even greater loss. With all eyes on Xi Yuechen, the gamble had to be taken.

In fact, assigning this plan to Zhou Tingzhang was well thought out. Zhou was reclusive, hot-tempered, rarely developing personal networks, making it almost impossible to gather intel from him. Yet his abilities were unquestionable, so it made perfect sense to entrust the plan to him.

Zhou had few protégés he favored; only one, the Gu family heir. The Gu family grew stronger with each generation, likely to reach the top soon.

Naturally, Zhou now watched Xi Yuechen with critical eyes. This operation cost the country significant manpower and resources; mistakes couldn’t happen. A failed anti-drug border security mission would require starting over—far more difficult.

Xi Yuechen meticulously followed up every step of the operation. Zhou realized the kid actually had talent.

Xi Yuechen’s daily reports didn’t just cover the mission’s details; they included his insights and predictions. Every observation was precise, especially his understanding of human behavior—often more accurate than professional analysts. This kid had real ability.

Zhou then studied Xi Yuechen’s detailed records closely. Previously, he had only skimmed them. Seeing the unembellished facts, he gained a new perspective: the kid had potential, his military achievements genuine, and reaching this point wasn’t easy.

Change in perception didn’t mean full approval. Xi Yuechen still had a long way to go before universal recognition, but this was a turning point. If successful, his future was promising.

Unconsciously, Zhou began to hope for Xi Yuechen. When his leave request arrived, he didn’t hesitate to approve it. The time off was well deserved—a chance to relax before returning to intense work.

However, before taking leave, Xi Yuechen had to stay with the unit for a couple of days. The team was capable, but lacking real combat experience—a critical weakness, especially against hardened criminals. Rushing into action would be reckless. Training was necessary.

Xi Yuechen had the ability, so he had to train them thoroughly. Otherwise, not only would the mission fail, but these valuable soldiers could be lost. Human resources were scarce, and their loss was irreplaceable.

The age of brute combat was over; modern warfare emphasized technology and information, as well as humanitarian considerations.

Information-era warfare demanded versatile talents familiar with all military branches and elements, including command. Xi Yuechen was such a talent—he could not be wasted.

Beyond individual skill, team coordination was crucial. Victory depended on seamless cooperation. Xi Yuechen fully understood this.

He had to spend a few days reintegrating with the team before leave, both to explain his absence and to ensure his team was prepared.

Zhou Tingzhang sighed. He hoped these soldiers wouldn’t fail the country. A prosperous, peaceful nation was his lifelong wish.

Xi Yuechen, meanwhile, had no idea of Zhou’s thoughts—or even that Zhou was the top commander.

Currently, he was training his team in the barracks. Initial exercises focused on familiarization, not physical endurance, and didn’t yet involve simulated combat.

The team’s relationships were amicable but not yet fully synchronized. To fight side by side, they had to reach the level of understanding each other with a single glance.

Xie Haomin lay on the hard bed, sighing in complaint. Xi Yuechen was relentless—treating them like machines, allowing no respite.

The Xie family had a long military tradition, though they had never reached the highest ranks. The family motto: “Stay humble, don’t stand out”—wise and understated.

Xie Haomin had grown up surrounded by military life, eager to make his mark. The path seemed smooth initially, but obstacles arose, with Xi Yuechen being the greatest challenge.

His grandfather constantly praised Xi Yuechen—“How remarkable he is!”—and Xie Haomin grew frustrated. “It’s just fast promotion; what’s so impressive? Grandpa never praised me like this!”

Provoked by Xi Yuechen, Xie Haomin worked even harder, determined to surpass him. That’s why he insisted on joining the special operations team despite family objections, with only his grandfather supporting him.

As a soldier, staying idle was unacceptable. Running laps and crawling through mud daily was no substitute for real action.

Now, facing his imagined rival and constant challenges, any moment of rest felt like a blessing. There was no time or energy to challenge Xi Yuechen.

He knew it was nearly impossible to beat him right now. That was fine; a true man knows when to endure. Completing this mission first, he told himself, was “laying low and conserving strength”—true talent always accumulates quietly before breaking out.

Xie Haomin comforted himself inwardly, humming in agreement.

Although they hadn’t spent much time together, Xie Haomin’s attitude toward Xi Yuechen was slowly changing. The only obstacle was his own pride built over the years.