RMM -Chapter 249 That Colonel Who’s Lovesick

Since returning to the reinforced regiment, Xi Yuechen had basically had nothing to do—no missions, no other activities—so life was relatively easy. The only downside was that he couldn’t go home.

Compared to Province D, this was really peaceful. But for him, the change in environment seemed to matter little; no matter where he was, it was always the same—his face perpetually stern.

However, over the past few days, Colonel Xi’s expression had become even more tightly wound, and everyone around noticed. Somehow, a subtle low-pressure aura seemed to hang over Regiment Commander Xi. They weren’t stupid—it was obvious: the commander was in a bad mood!

Although everyone was curious about what had happened—how could someone as cold and indifferent as their commander show such clear emotional fluctuations—they all tacitly chose to remain silent and keep their distance. This abnormal, strange commander was not someone they could mess with; it was safer to just watch from afar.

Others didn’t dare to gossip, but there was one person who did. After observing for several days, seeing Xi Yuechen still in this bizarre emotional state, Li Lizhen couldn’t hold back.

“Wow, what’s going on? The infamous iron-blooded commander actually has emotions too? I thought he’d long lost the ability to show feelings.”

“Yuechen, aren’t you busy?”

Xi Yuechen was online researching something when he heard his political commissar’s voice at the door.

“Mm.”

He glanced at the very amiable-looking Li Lizhen, then returned his gaze to the screen, replying in a cool, detached tone.

“Good, I’m glad you’re not busy. I’d feel bad if I interrupted your work.”

Li Lizhen spoke seriously, though anyone could tell the words were hollow. Clearly seeing Xi Yuechen occupied, he still made a show of politeness.

Xi Yuechen ignored the insincere words, keeping his eyes on the computer screen, waiting for Li Lizhen to get to the point.

Normally, if there were no urgent matters, even Li Lizhen wouldn’t disturb Xi Yuechen. From his attitude, it was clear this visit wasn’t about work.

Li Lizhen cleared his throat awkwardly. He knew Xi Yuechen never engaged in small talk, so he didn’t intend to chat. A normal person couldn’t talk to a wooden board and expect a conversation; that would just be talking to oneself.

“You’ve seemed off lately,” Li Lizhen said directly.

Xi Yuechen remained unmoved, as if he hadn’t heard. Li Lizhen realized it wasn’t that Xi Yuechen didn’t hear him, but that he saw no need to discuss it—so he fell silent.

“Cough. I came today to ask if something happened. As your political commissar, I’m responsible for the mental well-being of everyone in the regiment. If anyone’s having problems, I can’t just sit by, right?”

After hinting tactfully, Li Lizhen saw Xi Yuechen still hadn’t reacted, and silently rolled his eyes. This man was impossible to deal with.

If Li Lizhen were here for work matters, Xi Yuechen wouldn’t act so casually. Even if he wasn’t loquacious, he would respond with utmost seriousness. But today, from the moment Li Lizhen stepped in, Xi Yuechen knew this wasn’t about work. How could he take it seriously when Li Lizhen himself wasn’t serious?

Especially after Li Lizhen’s next words, Xi Yuechen, not being a fool, realized the commissar was using concern for a soldier’s mindset as an excuse to gossip. No wonder Xi Yuechen didn’t respond.

“Yuechen, I’m not here to gossip. You know me after all these years; I never interfere in others’ affairs. Don’t misunderstand me.”

Li Lizhen knew that to keep the conversation going, he first had to make sure Xi Yuechen didn’t feel defensive. Otherwise, how could he ask anything?

Though he said it reluctantly—normally he didn’t care about gossip—this time, seeing Xi Yuechen acting unusually low-spirited, his curiosity was piqued.

But Xi Yuechen could see through Li Lizhen’s intentions immediately. Despite Li Lizhen’s experience in observing people, in front of Xi Yuechen, his façade was no more than a minor trick; Xi Yuechen saw right through it.

Without this sharp perception, Xi Yuechen would have long been dead and buried, not sitting here listening to Li Lizhen’s admonitions.

“You are the regiment commander. Do I need to explain how much influence your words and actions have on everyone? As the commander, you’re our spiritual leader. If something goes wrong with you, what would the soldiers do? Haven’t you noticed how worried they’ve been these past few days? They fear your continued gloominess so much that they can’t focus on anything else.”

Li Lizhen exaggerated without shame. The soldiers were curious, yes, but not to the point of losing sleep; he just wanted to draw Xi Yuechen out.

Seeing Xi Yuechen remain silent, Li Lizhen couldn’t guess his thoughts and continued awkwardly.

“I normally wouldn’t come to you. You have your own mind, and even if you’re troubled, over time, you’ll figure it out. But I worry about you, and the soldiers worry too. They asked me to come see you, help you through it. You can’t stay gloomy—facing problems, you must speak out; we’ll find solutions together. There’s no obstacle we can’t overcome.”

Li Lizhen kept talking, becoming more absurd. Even Xi Yuechen, who usually ignored nonsense, raised his eyes slightly, wondering what in the world he was saying.

Li Lizhen thought he was speaking earnestly. He had known Xi Yuechen for years—resolute, unshakable. But recently, his mood had been unusually heavy. He wanted to understand why.

Xi Yuechen finally reacted, turning his cold gaze on the smiling Li Lizhen.

“You want to ‘enlighten’ me?”

…Silence. Li Lizhen began to avert his eyes. He didn’t have the courage to face Xi Yuechen’s piercing stare.

“Yes. Your mood has been bad these past few days, and with those soldiers egging things on…”

Li Lizhen forced a smile, placing all the blame on the subordinates. Poor soldiers sweating on the training field had no idea.

Xi Yuechen withdrew his gaze, calmly saying, “You’re overthinking. I’m fine.”

“People who are drunk always say they’re not, though,” Li Lizhen instinctively countered, then realized his words and awkwardly laughed.

Exactly. People in trouble always claim they’re fine, just like someone drunk. Especially someone like Xi Yuechen—proud and self-reliant—he wouldn’t let others see him falter. Understandable, but still, he couldn’t just bottle it up.

Xi Yuechen, cold-faced, silently wondered how Li Lizhen could be so self-righteous. What made him think Xi Yuechen’s recent mood slump was some grand event?

He never imagined his usually calm and wise political commissar would resort to speculation, imagination, and unsolicited advice.

Thinking of Li Lizhen’s earnest words, Xi Yuechen just wanted to kick him out. His life wasn’t in ruins—why all this consolation?

His already low mood worsened, his suppressed melancholy manifesting as an almost tangible aura.

Li Lizhen felt Xi Yuechen’s chilling presence, sweat forming on his brow. He’d never experienced the commander’s aura this close. It was overwhelming…

He’d just said a few words, hadn’t coaxed much, let alone interrogated. Why was Xi Yuechen so cold? He wasn’t an enemy.

Li Lizhen didn’t know that Xi Yuechen wasn’t angry at him per se—he just happened to be the unlucky scapegoat at the wrong time.

Realizing he couldn’t extract anything today, Li Lizhen wisely withdrew, though secretly feeling somewhat satisfied. After all, he had confirmed one fact: Xi Yuechen had undergone some major emotional disturbance. Not only low-spirited, but also irritable.

Abnormal indeed!

Li Lizhen muttered, “You keep busy, I’ll check on the soldiers,” and quietly left, feeling a little accomplished.

Poor Li Lizhen didn’t know that once he left, Xi Yuechen picked up his phone and expertly called Su Ruo. His expression finally softened. When she answered, his face completely brightened, even smiling a few times, eyes full of tenderness.

After hanging up, his expression shifted again, showing displeasure.

…So, the cause of Colonel Xi’s unusual behavior was finally revealed…

Cough. Despite his formidable exterior, Xi Yuechen was just a normal man. Being away from his wife and child for so long, he naturally missed them.

How long had it been since he’d seen them? Used to their daily presence, being alone now felt uncomfortable. Daily phone calls weren’t enough.

In short, the colonel’s mood swings were just lovesickness. Everyone else’s wild guesses were baseless.

Throughout history, who enjoys being lovesick?