Flame War Anthem: Beyond the Galactic River (GL) - Chapter 7

During their school days, such emotions could still find solace in the innocent atmosphere of the campus. But in the military, the situation was entirely different.

The barracks were filled with outstanding male soldiers, and given Yanyan’s beauty and exceptional abilities, there were surely no shortage of suitors.

Whenever she imagined Yanyan meeting the love of her life in the future, waves of bitter sorrow would rise in her heart, making her mock herself silently.

That heart-wrenching pain surged over her like a raging tide, yet she could only bury these feelings deep within, choosing instead to sincerely bless Yanyan and her future partner.

Not only because her family would never accept it, but also because they were soldiers—such unconventional love was forbidden.

After graduation, they each went to their new posts. Every time Yanyan reached out, she steeled herself and found excuses to avoid answering.

She firmly believed that if one day their paths were destined to diverge, it was better to grow accustomed to life without each other sooner rather than later.

Otherwise, she feared she might impulsively reveal the secret in her heart.

Yet causing a rift in their decades-long friendship was the last thing she wanted.

So perhaps keeping these feelings hidden forever was the best choice…

After walking for who knows how long, she finally arrived outside the gates of Yanyan’s military camp.

But she could only gaze from afar, even though her destination was right before her.

Her feet felt as if they were weighed down by lead, unable to take that final step closer to Yanyan.

How could she possibly say goodbye?

The words wouldn’t come.

If she didn’t return this time, Yanyan would surely be devastated. But with time, she would eventually come to accept it.

Let the secret buried in her heart vanish from this world along with her departure.

Her love had always been bitter and silent.

No matter how brave and fearless she was in facing other challenges, when it came to these feelings, she remained timid and powerless.

If she managed to return alive, perhaps everything would remain unchanged.

She raised her hand in a crisp salute toward the barracks, holding it for a long, long time.

And in her heart, she left behind her deepest, most sincere wishes for Yanyan—may she live a life of happiness and peace, may she grow old with the one she loves.

Whether she herself would still be in this world or not, she hoped Yanyan, who meant more to her than her own life, would find the greatest happiness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t love—it was that she loved too much, so much that she feared losing her.

Having known each other since childhood, though they never became lovers as she had hoped, walking through life with Yanyan by her side had been the greatest blessing of her life.

In the end, she accepted the mission from her superior and resolutely set off for battle.

Due to the mission’s secrecy, even the commander of her special operations brigade only knew she had been deployed elsewhere.

Though she didn’t get to see her family or Yanyan one last time, she set off with unwavering conviction, certain she would return alive.

But the battlefield was unpredictable, and nothing went as planned.

As the leader of the operation team, at the critical moment between life and death, she didn’t hesitate to give the only chance of survival to her comrade-in-arms…

She knew that come next spring, new buds would sprout on the trees along the streets.

Those new sprouts would one day return to their roots, just like the cycle of life, repeating endlessly.

Nowadays, she often thought of her family far away.

Were they doing well?

Were her grandparents and parents still in good health?

Had Xiaxia fulfilled her dream of becoming a lawyer?

And as for Yanyan—had she found her ideal partner, married, had children, and lived a happy, fulfilling life?

At this moment, she longed for these answers more than ever before.

Yet, after all she had been through, was she still the same An Jingxi from before?

No one could give her an answer to that.

The song continued to flow softly: “Every time the sun sets in the west, I wait here for you. Though rain drifts through the sky, I still await your return…”

“Knock, knock…”

A crisp, rhythmic knock suddenly echoed, like the sharp strike of a stone in a silent valley.

“Come in.”

Sen Jie, still dressed in his impeccably tailored, high-quality black suit, pushed open the lounge door with his slender fingers.

As the door opened, he lifted his gaze, fixing it on the solitary figure by the window.

For some reason, an indescribable unease surged through him like lightning—sudden and intense.

His sharp brows furrowed slightly, a flicker of hesitation passing through his eyes, but he didn’t dwell on the fleeting emotion.

“Chen, everyone is waiting for you…” His voice was low, carrying his usual calm.

Wu Chen stood motionless, like a statue frozen in time.

Her eyes lowered, her gaze resting lightly on the exquisite, gem-encrusted watch on her wrist—three minutes remained.

Sen Jie understood the meaning in her eyes and waited silently at the door like a loyal guard.

His posture was upright, his expression as detached as a meticulously painted yet emotionless portrait, so precise that not a single wrinkle marred his immaculate suit.

“Jie… I don’t think I can find my old self anymore…”

Her voice, heavy with a trace of confusion and melancholy, broke the silence of the lounge, where even the air seemed to have stilled.

Like the deep toll of a bell from an ancient temple, it sent ripples through the quiet space.

She turned slowly.

Sen Jie’s composed expression shifted slightly, revealing traces of bewilderment.

His deep, pool-like eyes studied her intently, searching for the hidden meaning behind her words.

She didn’t demand an answer. With elegant steps, she walked toward him with quiet determination, her movements unhurried.

A soft, spring-breeze-like smile suddenly graced her lips—though it seemed to carry countless untold stories.

“Let’s go. Time to deal with those stubborn old men again.”

Without hesitation, she turned and left.

Sen Jie watched her retreating figure, replaying her cryptic words in his mind. But there was no time to dwell—he quickly followed.

This meeting was, in fact, a continuation of the previous unfinished one.

As Wu Chen stepped into the conference room, her vision was filled with the crowded gathering.

The spacious room now felt oddly cramped, and an unspoken scoff rose in her heart.

The scene was comparable to bandits and robbers openly plundering treasures, their greed completely unconcealed in their eyes.

As expected, most of these people likely carried firearms on them in case negotiations failed. If a conflict broke out, they could at least protect themselves.

Although dangerous items were strictly prohibited here, Venos had chosen to turn a blind eye on several occasions.

The reasons behind this were clear to everyone, and naturally, she wasn’t foolish enough to expose the truth.