Chapter 8: Chen Guotao's Attention

Life in the recruit company was extremely monotonous, especially when, despite having handled guns, they were only allowed to practice various tactical maneuvers without any opportunity for live-fire shooting.

In the dormitory of First Squad, under Su Yang’s leadership, everyone was busy cleaning. Today was a rest day, and Sergeant Zheng Sanpao was unusually lenient, no longer nitpicking, and had allowed them to rest properly after finishing chores.

“Squad leader, are you still going to train today?” Xiwa placed the broom in the corner and noticed Su Yang, who had just finished tidying the bookshelf and changed into dry training clothes, prompting her question.

“Yes, I’m going to practice on the parallel bars. No running for me today,” Su Yang replied as he tightened his belt and nodded.

“No way, Squad leader, don’t you ever rest? You’re driving us all crazy with your extra training. If Old Pao sees us resting, he’ll come after us again!”

Before Xiwa could respond, Yu Wei blurted out in complaint.

Su Yang glanced at him sideways and explained, “I’m just working on my upper body strength. I’ll be back soon. I already told the platoon leader—you all should rest today.”

“That’s better. Hey Squad leader, are you really that serious about the competition? You can’t even outrun Xiao Zhuang in armed cross-country, but you’re first in all the other subjects in our squad. Even in other squads, only a few can match you. Joining the Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company should be no problem.”

To Yu Wei, Su Yang was already impressive enough. If he couldn’t join recon, who else could?

“Still far from good enough. I can’t consistently take first place even within the company. The division-level competition will be much tougher.”

“If you’re going to compete, you might as well aim for first place.”

With that, Su Yang left the dorm and headed to the training ground.

“Xiao Zhuang, aren’t you joining the competition? You even outrun the squad leader,” Xiwa said, watching Su Yang’s retreating figure before turning to Zhuang Yan, who was playing cards with others.

“I’m not crazy. Only a madman would want to enter that competition. Let those who want it go,” Zhuang Yan said dismissively as he played a bomb card.

“If you ask me, the only crazy one in the whole recruit company is the squad leader—he’s even crazier than the ‘dog’ squad leader. After all, the dog leader is harsh on us, but the squad leader is harsh on himself.”

He threw down his cards and stood to look through the window at the figure walking toward the training ground, muttering in disbelief, “Look at him when he first came here—he lagged far behind me in running, which I was best at. Now he’s caught up with me after just over a month.”

“I’ve been running since I was a child,” Zhuang Yan added. While he didn’t understand why Su Yang pushed himself so hard, he admired the man’s tenacity.

...

Su Yang was unaware of Zhuang Yan’s words in the dormitory; if he had known, he would have been pleased. After all, all this effort was to surpass Zhuang Yan. After coming to the army, he wasn’t about to let Zhuang Yan remain the star—it wouldn’t be worth it otherwise.

This wasn’t jealousy but the healthy competitiveness of a man and a soldier.

Still, Zhuang Yan was formidable. Only through daily extra training had he caught up to Su Yang. If he trained normally like the others, it might have been Zhuang Yan who performed best.

Despite being occasionally singled out by Old Pao, Su Yang was truly resilient.

In terms of pure physical fitness, Su Yang and Zhuang Yan were neck and neck across all endurance tests. As for battlefield first aid, chemical defense training, and tactical maneuvers, Su Yang had the edge.

Altogether, he barely held the top spot among the recruits, but it wasn’t secure—two others were close behind.

Xiwa and a recruit from Fifth Squad named Zhao Gang were also strong contenders.

Especially Xiwa, who seemed carefree but had solid physical and tactical skills.

At the equipment area, Su Yang warmed up until his muscles were activated, then mounted the horizontal bar and began rotating around with his abdomen.

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

...

“One hundred and three rotations!”

He counted to himself, circling repeatedly until his whole body ached. When dizziness set in and the numbers blurred, just as he was about to quit, a voice interrupted.

Hanging from the bar, Su Yang fought the blood rushing to his head, opened his eyes, and looked toward the speaker—a young lieutenant walking over.

“Good day, Platoon Leader!”

Su Yang dropped from the bar and was about to salute but found his right arm too weak to lift.

“No need to salute!” he said awkwardly, about to explain when the lieutenant steadied his arm and chuckled.

“Chen Platoon Leader?” Su Yang finally realized the man before him was Chen Guotao.

Surprised yet relieved, Su Yang had seen Chen Guotao a few times during Sergeant Zheng Sanpao’s meetings.

Chen Guotao was, in his eyes, the most soldierly officer in the Special Forces and the one he admired most. He regretted Chen’s fate; had Chen remained, the Wolf Fang unit might have had its finest commander.

Chen represented countless excellent grassroots officers in the People's Army. It was because of men like him that the army held hope.

“I see. Not bad, you can already do over a hundred abdominal rotations. No wonder Old Pao always talks about you,” Chen Guotao said with a satisfied smile.

Then, seriously, he added, “But those results only make you king in the recruit company. In our Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company, you’d be near the bottom of the platoon.”

“What? Bottom? Platoon Leader, that can’t be! Some veterans don’t even achieve this score,” Su Yang said in disbelief. He had asked about veteran standards and knew his results were above average, even excellent.

“Don’t believe me?” Chen Guotao laughed at Su Yang’s expression and continued, “If you compare with veterans from ordinary companies, yes, you’re good. But what is Night Tiger Reconnaissance? Reconnaissance troops among reconnaissance troops—elite of the elite. Not just anyone can compare.”

Though Su Yang respected the Night Tiger Recon Company’s reputation, he knew enough not to be easily fooled.

“Platoon Leader, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but our squad leader’s performance is there. Surely he wouldn’t be at the bottom in Night Tiger?”

Chen Guotao was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected that Su Yang’s skepticism was based on that. He was a bit frustrated—how had Old Pao been treated to be doubted by a recruit?

But knowing Old Pao had made some mistakes early on, Chen Guotao smiled and said, “Want to know how Old Pao performs? You’ll see when you join Night Tiger Recon.”

“Chen Guotao, what are you doing in our recruit company? If you want to poach soldiers, this isn’t the way,” came a scowl from the recruit company commander approaching.

“Commander!” Su Yang quickly saluted.

Chen Guotao returned the salute and didn’t take offense to the scolding, smiling as he said, “Old Song, what do you mean poaching? I just happened to pass by and saw Comrade Su Yang training. Took a look—that’s all.”

“Chen Guotao, don’t make excuses. Lieutenant Miao is always watching my recruit company with binoculars. You think I don’t know what he’s up to? Tell him, it won’t be easy to steal soldiers I’ve trained so hard,” the commander warned.

After glancing at Su Yang, the recruit commander softened and said gently, “Su Yang, don’t listen to Zheng Sanpao and Chen Guotao brag. Night Tiger’s soldiers are formidable, but without support from other branches, their recon troops are like mice, always hiding everywhere.”

Su Yang felt embarrassed and gave a sheepish smile.

“All right, training’s over. Go back and rest well. Giving you a day off is to help you recover. Don’t rush the training—overdoing it won’t do your body any good.”

The recruit commander valued Su Yang’s outstanding performance and wouldn’t let him struggle unnecessarily. After a bit of advice, he dismissed him.

“Yes, Commander. I’ll be careful. I’ll be going now.”

Given permission, Su Yang quickly slipped away.

Watching Su Yang leave, Chen Guotao said, “Old Song, such a good soldier going to other companies is a waste. Look at his ambition and strong will—he’s a genuine special forces candidate.”

“Are you saying he’s a lot like you?” The commander immediately saw through Chen Guotao’s intentions—they had known each other a long time.

“Isn’t he? Clear goals and willing to work hard—that was me once,” Chen Guotao replied.

“Even if he is, we can train him here. Wolf Fang doesn’t only recruit for Night Tiger,” the commander said, waving him off and walking away.

“No, Lieutenant Miao must hurry and secure him. Too many companies are watching this guy,” Chen Guotao muttered softly.

...

The rest day passed, and training resumed.

As time moved forward, the harsh winter weather gradually faded, and temperatures rose.

After the morning’s three-kilometer warm-up and breakfast, the recruits, having tidied their quarters, lined up neatly beneath the dormitory.

Spring sunshine eased the chill, and several recruits in First Squad saw their frostbite improve.

Today was significant: live-fire shooting was about to take place. After a month and a half of waiting and preparation, the recruits finally had their chance.

Su Yang, however, was unhappy. Their squad had been punished again by Zheng Sanpao yesterday because one soldier was caught smoking, forcing the whole squad to do two extra hours of tactical drills.

They didn’t sleep until one in the morning, leaving everyone with sore arms.

For someone like Su Yang, who hoped to shine on his first live-fire test, it was painful. He had trained holding a gun countless times to steady his hands, but now they still ached.

Soon, Su Yang saw several military vehicles park at the gate. A major in his thirties stepped out, accompanied by a group of veterans wearing red embroidered armbands as safety officers.

Su Yang knew these veterans were responsible for transporting weapons and ammunition and ensuring safety during live-fire exercises.

Within minutes, the whole company assembled and boarded the empty trucks, heading to the shooting range on the nearby rear hill.

Upon arriving, they saw the range fully set up: one hundred-meter human silhouette targets, safety officers arranging bullets on tables, and guns lined up at each shooting station.

The recruits began receiving empty magazines, which they would load with live rounds on site.

Commander Song repeatedly emphasized the key points of live-fire shooting.

The assessment focused on the number of hits, not the score per round. Each soldier was allowed ten rounds per session.

The ammunition was scarce, and over-nervous shooters might waste their shots with no sense of accomplishment. Therefore, Old Pao insisted on taking it slow—each shot carefully aimed before firing.

“First Squad, get ready!”