Chapter 3: The Old Gun's Intentions

“I want to ask you all a question: if we were on the battlefield, would you be willing to take a bullet for me?”

When the familiar voice of Sergeant Zheng Sanpao rang out again, the other new recruits were still puzzled, but Su Yang stepped forward and called out, “Reporting!”

Immediately, everyone’s eyes turned to Su Yang. Zheng Sanpao remained expressionless and said, “Speak!”

“I’m willing!” Su Yang shouted loudly without caring what the others thought.

Hearing this, Zheng Sanpao glanced at Su Yang once more, then nodded and asked, “Why?”

“The reason is simple. Since I voluntarily enlisted, it’s because I’m committed to defending the homeland and standing life and death with my brothers in the trenches,” Su Yang said firmly.

When he first saw this sentiment on television, Su Yang believed it wholeheartedly; otherwise, he wouldn’t have enlisted voluntarily.

The other new recruits didn’t take Su Yang’s words seriously; a few even laughed. But Zheng Sanpao’s stern face softened. He could tell that Su Yang’s tone was resolute—that was the truth from his heart.

“Good, very good. A brotherhood of life and death. I hope you always remember what you said today,” Zheng Sanpao declared solemnly.

Then he cast a sharp glance at the other recruits and scowled, “What about you all? What, have you all lost your voices?”

“I’m telling you, as long as you’re a member of the People’s Liberation Army, on the battlefield, I’m willing to take bullets for you!”

Zheng Sanpao’s words didn’t mean much to the recruits, especially to Zhuang Yan, who stood beside Su Yang and whispered mockingly, “Is he crazy?”

Su Yang heard him and glanced over with a smile in his heart: the delayed boomerang will eventually hit you.

Soon, Sergeant Zheng Sanpao found fault with Chen Xiwa, gave him a harsh reprimand, and then, pointing out his mistakes, launched into his own style of training.

“Because of this soldier Chen Xiwa, all of you will be punished today. Everyone! Five kilometers, get ready! About face, run march!”

Su Yang wasn’t surprised. Old Sergeant Sanpao was clearly using running to test their limits and to pressure the new recruits. What he hadn’t expected was that someone like Zhuang Yan, a tough guy, was in the ranks.

The training ground for the new recruits was about the size of a soccer field, roughly four to five hundred meters per lap. Five kilometers was nearly a death sentence for the recruits.

After eight laps, most of the recruits were lying on the ground, gasping for breath. A few had fallen behind by several laps but were still running.

Su Yang panted heavily as he looked at the two figures ahead of him, running steadily. He felt disheartened.

Since he decided to enlist, he had been training continuously, only resting the day before enlisting.

He had thought he might be a bit behind, but hadn’t expected to lag so far behind—barely better than Xiwa.

This wouldn’t do. How could he join the Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company or the Wolf Fang Unit like this?

He enlisted for real combat; if he ended up in a regular unit, he might never get a chance to prove himself before discharge.

With this in mind, Su Yang took a deep breath, suppressed the aching pain in his legs, and clenched his teeth to catch up.

Since ancient times, there has been no first in literature and no second in martial arts. Having joined the army, he was determined to be the best; he would not yield his honor!

As lap after lap passed and the distance exceeded five kilometers, Sergeant Zheng Sanpao glanced back and couldn’t hold back any longer.

To quickly distance himself from the recruits, he had increased his speed, running faster than usual—even faster than when running with veterans.

Yet two men were still following him. Although one had fallen behind, the other maintained a steady pace.

At this moment, he regretted boasting and running in dress shoes, especially knowing there was someone with such great endurance among the recruits.

The commotion among the three had already drawn everyone’s attention. The veterans exchanged looks while the new recruits burst into cheers, encouraging Zhuang Yan and Su Yang.

The new recruits’ company commander, sensing the situation was out of control, quickly blew the whistle to halt the contest.

As the commander called a stop, the three stopped as well. Su Yang, exhausted, returned to the formation, leaning on his knees to catch his breath.

“Su Yang, you’re strong! You actually kept up with the squad leader and Zhuang,” Xiwa hurriedly supported Su Yang, praising him.

Su Yang gave Xiwa a sour look. What does ‘keeping up’ mean? He was nowhere near keeping up—he’d been left far behind.

Still, Su Yang didn’t lose heart. He believed that with more training, he could win. After all, he had only just started running seriously.

Not far from the track stood a high platform. A slightly stout black-faced captain in camouflage held binoculars, watching the three figures on the track.

“That kid at the back isn’t bad. He can’t catch up, but he keeps chasing—he’s got spirit,” a young second lieutenant beside him said.

“Yes, he’s good. Find me their profiles!” The captain smiled, his tone final.

“Yes, sir!” the lieutenant nodded.

In the barracks of the first company, unaware he was already under close watch, Su Yang slumped to the floor, massaging his trembling legs while surveying the room.

Better than he had imagined, but not exceptional.

The rectangular room held six double beds, each with neatly arranged bedding: military green quilts and white sheets.

Su Yang disliked the white sheets, knowing that with his heavy sweating, they would require frequent washing.

Otherwise, they would soon yellow.

Besides the beds, there were old wooden cabinets that looked well-used, and the new issue yellow basins—Sergeant Zheng Sanpao had said these would be used even for cleaning toilets.

This was the one thing Su Yang resisted most; otherwise, he didn’t fuss about anything else.

The barracks were lively, especially Xiwa, who was excited by the new environment, pulling a few recruits into conversation. As for Zhuang Yan, he sat on a chair, seemingly writing something.

Su Yang paid them no mind, steadied himself on a bedpost, put on his winter training uniform, and headed out.

Stepping into the stairwell on the second floor, a cold wind crept into his collar. Su Yang shivered. Just while running, his body had been warm, but now the sweat had dried, leaving him chilled.

Standing by the stairwell, Su Yang scanned the surroundings. The camp was quite large. On the asphalt road beside the dormitory, armored vehicles rumbled past now and then, the roar reminding him that he was truly in the military.

“Hey, soldier! Stop!”

As Su Yang reached the stairwell entrance, about to descend, he heard Sergeant Zheng Sanpao’s voice. He quickly turned and greeted, “Hello, squad leader!”

“Where are you going?” Zheng Sanpao approached, his tone stern.

“Reporting, squad leader, I’m just stepping out for a bit. The barracks are too noisy,” Su Yang felt a bit at a loss. He thought he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“If you want to go out, get permission first next time. Soon, we’ll teach you how to tidy your quarters. And wherever you go, report to me in advance,” Zheng Sanpao’s expression softened somewhat upon seeing Su Yang.

“Yes, squad leader.” Su Yang nodded obediently.

Zheng Sanpao then noticed that Su Yang’s jacket buttons were undone and frowned. “Button up properly. A soldier must look like a soldier! If I catch you like this again, you’ll do push-ups until you’re convinced!”

“Yes!” Caught for a mistake, Su Yang resignedly buttoned up.

“Go back to the barracks now!”

Watching Su Yang return, Zheng Sanpao’s frown deepened; he found the young man slippery and elusive.

That wouldn’t do for training.

He’d have to find a way to expose this guy’s flaws and push him harder, Zheng Sanpao thought.