Chapter 32: Brothers Beneath the Setting Sun

“You’re overthinking it. I didn’t do that to win against you—I just wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Besides...” He Chen Guang tilted his head and smiled. “This isn’t my first time firing live rounds. In fact, I can’t even remember how many bullets I’ve shot by now.

But you’re different. This was your first time handling a real gun, and you still did so well. Honestly, that’s impressive. You should be proud.”

For someone as competitive as He Chen Guang, it was truly rare and admirable for him to lift Wang Yan Bing’s spirits by downplaying his own achievements. He really saw Wang Yan Bing as a true brother, just as Xing Xiao Long and Li Er Niu did.

Wang Yan Bing seemed to be comforted by He Chen Guang’s words; his expression softened, and he casually pulled a blade of grass to dangle from his lips as he gazed into the distance. “Have you heard of Xu Hai Feng?”

“Of course. The Olympic shooting champion.” He Chen Guang nodded.

“When I was little, I read a story about him. It said that Xu Hai Feng loved playing with slingshots as a kid, and he eventually became a world champion.”

Wang Yan Bing’s eyes grew unfocused as he drifted into memory. “I dreamed of becoming a world shooting champion too, so I made myself a slingshot. There were no birds to shoot in the city, so I aimed at street lamps, at people’s windows.

The neighbors all said I was a bad kid, just like my father. They’d say, ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He’ll end up in jail, just like his dad.’”

As Wang Yan Bing suddenly revealed these private secrets, Xing Xiao Long, He Chen Guang, and Li Er Niu all showed subtle changes in their expressions—some sympathy, some quiet reflection. None of them spoke; they simply watched him in silence, becoming his listeners.

A man does not need pity.

Wang Yan Bing sighed, forcing a bitter smile. “I’m the son of a criminal, yet here I am, a soldier. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Xing Xiao Long shook his head, smiling, with no extra gestures. There was no need for more.

Wang Yan Bing was sensitive now—just being heard, letting his feelings out, was enough.

“Honestly, I don’t know either.”

He suddenly laughed. “When I was one, my dad was sent to jail for hurting someone in a fight. My mom left me behind and ran off. I was raised by my grandmother, who scrounged for scrap to keep me alive.

But I was ungrateful, always getting into trouble, breaking windows with my slingshot. My grandma was always apologizing, always paying for the damages. Now, when I think back...”

As he spoke, his voice caught, his nose stung, and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Xing Xiao Long and He Chen Guang, one on either side, reached out and patted his shoulders—a wordless gesture of comfort between men, far more effective than any words.

“Thank you.”

Wang Yan Bing forced back his tears, took a deep breath, and continued, “I caused so much trouble. I was the neighborhood tyrant, skipping school every day. I didn’t even finish middle school.”

I dreamed of being a world shooting champion, an idol admired by all. I practiced with my slingshot, learned air rifle, studied the theory of every kind of firearm, haunted military forums and message boards, picked up everything I could...

But it was only ever a fantasy. No matter how accurate I got with a slingshot or air rifle, what did it matter? I was good for nothing but bringing my grandma grief.

“But now you’re a soldier. Isn’t that something? Your grandma would be so proud!” Li Er Niu said.

“She passed away five years ago,” Wang Yan Bing replied, his voice low.

Li Er Niu scratched his head, at a loss for words. After a long struggle, he managed to blurt out, “My condolences.”

“I always wanted to win an Olympic gold medal to show her. Now, I want to wear the uniform of the Liberation Army, pin a medal to my chest, and tell her, ‘Grandma, your grandson has learned to be good. Your grandson is finally someone useful.’”

Wang Yan Bing grinned like a fool, but as he smiled, tears streamed down his face, and soon he was sobbing openly.

“You’ll do it—you’re so close,” He Chen Guang said, holding his shoulder.

“You can do it. I believe in you. We’ll work hard together. When the time comes, I’ll go with you to your grandma’s grave and vouch for you myself!” Xing Xiao Long laughed.

Wang Yan Bing wiped away his tears and smiled—a real smile this time. When he looked at the three of them, there was a new kind of emotion in his eyes.

The kind of feeling only reserved for the best of brothers.

“I always thought that when it came to shooting, no one could beat me. But I never imagined there’d be someone like you, He Chen Guang! You’re something else.”

“Are you so quick to admit defeat?” He Chen Guang looked him in the eye.

“Admit defeat? Me? Don’t make me laugh! When have I ever admitted defeat?” Wang Yan Bing raised his chin and grinned.

“That’s the Wang Yan Bing I know!” Xing Xiao Long thumped him in the chest.

He Chen Guang asked, “Have you found yourself now?”

Wang Yan Bing blinked, took a deep breath, and nodded firmly.

“Scores will always go up and down, but no one can be champion forever. I train in sports—I know that better than anyone. Comrade Wang Yan Bing, do you have faith in your future?”

“I do!”

At that moment, Wang Yan Bing finally regained his old confidence.

“That’s all that matters! Come on, let’s go play cards. I need to win back what I lost yesterday and turn all three of you into painted clowns,” Xing Xiao Long said, grabbing Wang Yan Bing by the arm.

“Chen Guang, Long, Er Niu—thank you, all of you,” Wang Yan Bing said sincerely.

“What’s there to thank? We’re comrades—brothers!”

Li Er Niu grinned, then suddenly thought of something. “Oh right, Yan Bing, why don’t you ever mention your father? He must have been out of prison for a while now.”

“I can’t find him.”

“You can’t?” Xing Xiao Long was surprised.

“Yeah, he never came looking for me or Grandma.”

“You never tried to find him?” He Chen Guang asked.

“I went to the prison. They said he was only in for a year. After he got out, he never came home. No one knows where he went. Maybe he’s long dead.” Wang Yan Bing seemed surprisingly at peace about his father.

“Don’t overthink it. You’ll find him eventually. Let’s go.” Xing Xiao Long started leading the way back to the barracks, but after a few steps he turned back. “Oh, Yan Bing, Chen Guang, there’s something I wanted to ask you both.”

“What is it?”

“Just say the word, if it’s within my power,” they replied, puzzled but agreeing without hesitation.

“Teach me to shoot. I want to hit the bullseye every time, and even draw circles around the target.”

As soon as Xing Xiao Long finished, Li Er Niu jumped in, “I want to learn too! I’ve always admired your marksmanship.”

“Chen Guang’s the best shot here. From now on, you’re our instructor. And since we’re all such good brothers, no holding back, alright?” Wang Yan Bing teased.

“No problem, none at all. I’ll teach you how to draw circles with your shots—and I can teach you some martial arts too. I’m unbeatable at close combat!” He Chen Guang agreed, even throwing in an extra course.

“Haha, that’s awesome, just what I’d expect from my brother. From now on, we’re counting on you!”

Xing Xiao Long threw his arm around He Chen Guang’s shoulders, and Wang Yan Bing and Li Er Niu piled on, sandwiching him in the middle.

The four of them, laughing and bickering, walked back toward the barracks.

In that moment—

The camaraderie between brothers-in-arms, their heartfelt laughter echoed under the glow of the setting sun, drifting across the barracks and out into the distant horizon.

The true Four Musketeers had finally come together.