Chapter Ninety-Nine: Bribery (3.3)

The Peerless Mad Dragon—No Ads

Long Fei didn’t say much, but he urged everyone to hurry up and chase after girls. He even subtly encouraged them to pick fights with the soldiers. According to Long Fei, what’s so great about being in the army these days? Soldiers are still human—if you dare hit them, they’ll feel it just as much and might end up in the hospital. Even if you can’t beat them in a fair fight, you can always bite them a couple of times to vent your anger, like a mad dog. Sure, you might get hit a few times, but if you leap forward and bite once, the next time they see you, they’ll take a detour to avoid trouble. They won’t dare mess with you again!

One couldn’t help but admit that Long Fei was a bit mischievous. But he felt that life in the barracks wasn’t as carefree as everyone imagined. If you didn’t find some fun or stir up a bit of trouble, it would be incredibly dull. Especially when he saw someone like Luo Hongli, he was practically itching to give him something to do. Who asked the guy to look so handsome? Why did he have to look like Hua Rong, that pretty boy?

One afternoon during dinner, some students quietly asked the cooks in the kitchen and learned there would be training later that evening. The news quickly spread through the company, so everyone either sat or lay around waiting for the call to assemble. No one dared go to the bathhouse anymore—not even the clean freaks—because no one could bear the torment of 500 push-ups.

The call sounded soon enough. That night’s training was running again. All told, they had run over ten kilometers that day. Everyone’s legs felt like they were about to give out, but with instructors barking orders nearby, no one dared slack off. The instructors warned that the last five to finish would have to do push-ups—two hundred of them. Though two hundred was not a small number, no one wanted to be part of that infamous final group.

When training finally ended around 9:30 p.m., Long Fei leisurely took a shower. In truth, he hadn’t even sweat much.

Upon emerging from the bathhouse, Wu Song was already waiting outside. He handed Long Fei a pack of cigarettes and sheepishly said, “Thanks a lot this time. No fancy words—if you ever need anything, just call me. I, Wu Song, will never refuse, no matter what. You have my word!”

Then Wu Song left, leaving Long Fei both amused and puzzled. What was Wu Song up to? He probably couldn’t even bear to smoke those Chinese cigarettes himself, yet he bought them to flatter Long Fei. Was he really trying to get on the good side of his uncle, the regiment commander? But this uncle was a lucky strike, not something to be taken seriously.

Long Fei shook his head. When people give you favors, you must repay them. Looks like next time, he really would have to help this guy out. But how? Speaking up for him to Luo Hongli was out of the question—Luo Hongli was probably still furious at Wu Song. The only reason he hadn’t dealt with him yet was out of respect for Long Fei. If Long Fei intervened now, he’d only be asking for trouble and adding fuel to the fire.

Before dawn the next day, the wake-up call sounded. No matter how much the students complained, exercises had to be done. When shouting slogans, they had to be loud enough or face punishment. It seemed that in this camp, there were three things most common—excluding the uniform. First was the bugle call, which regulated waking up, eating, training, and sleeping. Second was training itself; it seemed the army did nothing but train. War? What war are you talking about? Third was punishment, an everyday occurrence. No one entering the camp could claim never to have been punished. Whether confinement, toilet cleaning, push-ups, or long-distance running, the methods were endless and merciless.

At breakfast, Long Fei insisted on squeezing in next to Liu Ruoyi, who blushed deeply but couldn’t resist his boldness. Seeing them together, the others naturally mixed and mingled. Indeed, men and women working together made things easier. The new and old recruits who kept order yesterday had all vanished—perhaps they anticipated that Long Fei’s antics would lead to today’s relaxed atmosphere, or maybe they had been ordered not to interfere. Either way, it was better not to bother when nothing could be controlled.

Whether it was thanks to Long Fei or simply because the camp had few restrictions, everyone was now in high spirits. Previously, talking during meals was forbidden, but now, boys jabbered endlessly while staring at the girls. Naturally, much food was left untouched, infuriating the cooks, who were on the verge of shouting curses.

As a result, the cooks deliberately served the boys smaller portions at lunch, reasoning it was a waste otherwise. Yet some still wanted to eat their fill, and a few students, led by Long Fei, nearly clashed with the kitchen staff over food. Eventually, Luo Hongli personally intervened, and food portions were restored. Afterwards, Luo Hongli berated the kitchen chief harshly: “Damn it! So what if some food was wasted? You’re not paying for it, so why are you so stingy? You can stuff it!”

Training was tough, but the real drills weren’t complicated—mostly running, standing at attention, practicing marching, or stepping in time. Occasionally, they mimicked the army’s usual cross-country runs, though the distances were nowhere near what real soldiers endured. A five or six-kilometer round trip would leave most nearly exhausted.

The most dreaded and exhausting part was standing at attention. It seemed motionless and effortless but was anything but. This was no mild season but the scorching summer sun. Sweat dripped from forehead to brow, over the nose, and down to the lips, hanging there without falling. Occasionally, mosquitoes landed, and you couldn’t scratch or wipe away the sweat. You had to stand as rigid and immovable as a telephone pole at a busy intersection. Anyone who moved was punished. The experience was truly unbearable.

A week passed quickly. Every time Long Fei lay in bed, he couldn’t help but think of Yang Danni and Ye Qian, but remembering Liu Ruoyi by his side eased the loneliness. He hadn’t called either of the two girls, and they hadn’t contacted him either.

During training, Wu Song looked after Long Fei carefully. Since entering the camp, perhaps only Long Fei, Liu Ruoyi, and a few others had never been punished. Long Fei’s impression of Wu Song improved gradually. Though sometimes seeming a bit slow, Wu Song was honest as Luo Hongli said, and his physical skills were quite good. With training, he could become a formidable fighter, possibly a professional brawler or bodyguard.

After just one week, both boys and girls seemed transformed—not just healthier-looking, with skin bronzed but vibrant. No one thought it ugly. Like a Caucasian among a group of dark-skinned people, he’d think they were too dark, but standing with a crowd of Caucasians, he wouldn’t feel pale. The army was truly a melting pot. After a week of training and adaptation, those who were late or punished for failing tasks dwindled. Everyone was beginning to look like soldiers.

One day, Wu Song brought Long Fei another pack of cigarettes. They chatted outside for a while. As Wu Song was about to leave, Long Fei suddenly called out, “Oh, Instructor Wu, I have something I want to ask you!”

Wu Song paused, surprised. “What is it? Go ahead, ask!”

Wu Song remained as polite as ever.