But Zhou Xiuwen still remembered that the other party hadn't been so forthright from the beginning.
He didn't know if it was because the world in his father's eyes was too vast, with so many people and matters to consider and shoulder, that the affection and energy he could spare for his family were limited.
Young Zhou Xiuwen had once vaguely felt that his father's image was somewhat hazy, as if there was always an invisible veil between them, preventing him from truly seeing the person on the other side.
He had also asked his mother whether his father disliked them, mother and son. Otherwise, why wouldn't he stay by his side like other fathers, take him out to play, or touch him intimately like others did?
Zhou Xiuwen's mother didn't answer at the time. She only gently held him in her arms, murmuring and coaxing him with many words he didn't understand then. Although he had mostly forgotten them by the time he woke up the next day, he never asked such questions again in the years that followed.
This daily routine continued for a long time, until one day—
It should have been the day his father returned from campaign. Zhou Xiuwen had been dressed up early by his mother and waited at the door for the male head of the household to return. However, this time what he waited for was not the tall, dignified general of the past, but a "stranger" who was weak and frail all over, bearing only his father's face.
Everything changed after that day.
Time also passed quickly afterward—so quickly that young Zhou Xiuwen didn't know how to distinguish those complex people and events. He only remembered that after attending a grand ceremony one day, his father was calmly wheeled into the high court of the capital's Supreme Court, and when he came out, he had completely lost both his lower legs.
Not long after, Zhou Xiuwen bid farewell to his mother and maternal grandfather, accompanying his father as they left the prosperous central star district and came to Planet 732.
Zhou Xiuwen's father stayed by his side from then on.
Perhaps having experienced life-and-death hardships, Zhou Yuanjing had also become more open, beginning to show his son love and closeness without reservation. But Zhou Xiuwen didn't feel particularly happy about this; instead, he couldn't help but feel bitter inside.
Because now it was he who frequently left. When he went to school, Zhou Yuanjing stayed at home. When he went out to study military affairs, the other party was still at home. Later, when he lived in dormitories, the other party was still waiting for him at home. His father, who had once been covered in glory and stood at the pinnacle of the Empire, was now confined to a small space.
What must he be feeling inside?
So to prevent the other party from feeling lonely, and to avoid bringing more trouble to this precarious family, he repeatedly refused his mother's summons from the capital and rarely made friends with outsiders.
Bringing Jiang Hui and the others to meet Zhou Yuanjing this time, he was actually quite apprehensive. He was afraid that Zhou Yuanjing wouldn't like these friends of his, and then he would have to choose between his family father and his friends. Even though the outcome was certain, he would still feel tremendous pain about it.
He hadn't expected Zhou Yuanjing to react this way. The other party coming out personally was already an attitude—at this moment, he wasn't appearing before the child's friends as an Imperial Commander, but as a father, unafraid of anyone's gaze.
Zhou Xiuwen only felt his chest swell, with surging emotions rolling and crashing against his heart and lungs, leaving him unable to say anything for a moment.
"Alright, get up quickly. What do you look like behaving this way in front of your friends? You must be Xiao Wen's friends. Hello, I'm this child's father, Zhou Yuanjing."
The group hadn't yet recovered from the shock of his condition, but hearing this Commander Zhou greet them, they hurriedly returned the courtesy.
Huan Xian was better off—he was probably accustomed to such situations and naturally performed a humble military salute.
Then there were Jiang Hui and Xierman, who stood there like two fools not knowing how to react, only managing to clumsily return the same gesture.
The man seemed amused by the children's flustered appearance. A faint smile appeared on his gaunt face, his cheekbones trembling slightly, revealing a gentle elegance that was very similar to Zhou Xiuwen's usual demeanor—one could tell at a glance that this child took after his father.
"You're all good children. You don't need to be so nervous, or else my child here will blame me later for making things difficult for you."
Zhou Xiuwen inexplicably found himself blamed for something, feeling somewhat displeased. He would never think such a thing, would he? The young man was a bit dissatisfied, completely unaware that this was probably the universal conversational tactic used by parents everywhere—they always liked to mention their child's little quirks during small talk to create closeness.
Jiang Hui and the others couldn't help but exchange glances. How could this former Imperial Military Commander be so gentle?!
From the moment he appeared, every word and action he displayed could be summed up in two words—gentle. They couldn't imagine at all that he had once been such a formidable figure, and there wasn't a trace of artificiality about him.
They finally understood where Zhou Xiuwen's good temper came from.
Of course, the group didn't think this was the true face of this legendary figure. After all, gentleness alone couldn't command an entire army. Combined with his invitation to dinner and personally coming out to greet them, he was probably displaying this gentleness specifically for Zhou Xiuwen's sake.
He then inquired about their names and ages. But unlike the other authority figures Jiang Hui had encountered in the past, he didn't deliberately probe deeply into their circumstances—he kept everything brief and to the point.
In his presence, Xierman, whose family wealth could rival nations, seemed like he came from an ordinary family; Huan Xian, whose identity remained mysterious, was just a regular young man; and Jiang Hui, who truly had an ordinary background, was no different from the other two.
Jiang Hui believed that he couldn't possibly be unaware of the backgrounds of his son's friends. Given his status and position, their files had probably already been laid out on his desk by the time he came into contact with Zhou Xiuwen. This was realistic and unquestionable.
Yet when meeting them, he still acted as if he was learning about them for the first time, quite solemnly getting to know them.
Yes, he was very solemn... Jiang Hui indeed had this subtle feeling. For someone of his status to ask each of their names one by one, carefully remember them, and greet them warmly was already beyond their belief.
Many high-ranking people in the Empire, not to mention whether they could personally meet this leader, even if they did, might not have the kind of interaction with him that they were experiencing.
Even Jiang Hui, who was usually emotionally composed, began to feel somewhat at a loss.
This elder seemed oblivious to the children's restraint and personally led them into the west hall, though the group didn't dare let their eyes wander too freely along the way.
Unlike the long tables Jiang Hui had commonly seen these past few days, this extraordinary dinner used a round table. Several people with vastly different identities, statuses, and experiences took their seats.
This special dinner officially began.