Chapter 13: A True Reunion of Old Enemies

Wednesday!

Southeast Military Region General Hospital.

"Welcome young people of appropriate age to enlist in the army. It is the highest honor to dedicate oneself to military service and defend the nation."

This bold slogan was printed on a long red silk banner stretched from one end of the hospital gate to the other, visible even from hundreds of meters away.

To the right of the main entrance, a separate passageway was lined with teenagers aged eighteen to twenty. Some wore expressions of resignation and discontent, others showed excitement and anticipation for the future, as they entered the examination area in turn.

After completing all the steps at the Armed Forces Office—registration, information entry, computer-based written exam, and data verification—Xing Xiaolong joined the line.

Having already served once, Xing Xiaolong was very familiar with the recruitment procedures and appeared much calmer than the others.

The medical examination was a complex process: blood samples, ultrasounds, electrocardiograms, vision and smell tests, checks for skin diseases, deformities, or disabilities—every detail was scrutinized. Each time a test was passed, the examining doctor would stamp "qualified" on the corresponding section of the recruitment physical examination form. If any test was failed, the candidate had to leave immediately and could not proceed further.

Though the process began with nearly two hundred participants, by the end, when all documents were registered and filed, less than thirty remained.

Xing Xiaolong was one of them!

The final group formed two lines in the hospital's right wing hall. Xing Xiaolong hardly recognized anyone present. However, in the left line, there was a half-familiar face—the same young man he had fought with a few days before, which ended with both of them being detained at the police station. Upon release, the other had even taunted him. That young man was He Chenguang.

He Chenguang stood near the front of the line and did not notice Xing Xiaolong in the other, farther line. His face was bright with joy, reflecting a mood sharply contrasted with the gloomy expressions of those forced into the examination by their parents.

Having had a falling out with He Chenguang, Xing Xiaolong, even as a half-acquaintance, had no intention of greeting him. With nothing to do while waiting, he started observing the others in both lines. Based on his previous experience, a few of these people might soon become his "roommates"—soldiers assigned to the same company.

To prevent regional cliques, military policy randomly assigned recruits from different areas to various units. Out of several hundred recruits from one city, usually only one or two would end up in the same company.

Surveying the hall, Xing Xiaolong noticed two other individuals, besides He Chenguang, who caught his attention for different reasons.

One was in the left line, ahead of He Chenguang—a youth about 1.78 meters tall, powerfully built, who gave off a simple, almost foolish impression. The perfect word for him seemed to be "big oaf," as if tailor-made.

A simple registration only required answering a few questions and handing over the examination forms. Yet the big oaf managed to fumble around for ages, only to realize he had lost one of the forms and had to go back for it. In his flustered hurry, he nearly smacked He Chenguang across the face with his arm. Fortunately, He Chenguang dodged just in time.

Having finally received his grandfather's reluctant approval to enlist, He Chenguang was in high spirits. He simply smiled and nodded at the big oaf’s apology, unbothered by the near-miss.

In contrast to the oaf’s guilelessness, another youth stood out for his arrogance. Everyone else had come prepared for military service, heads already shaved. Only this one still wore his hair long—a small ponytail behind, with long bangs hanging down either side, altogether flashy and ostentatious.

On top of that, his exposed right arm bore an unsightly, still-red, wrinkled scar over ten centimeters long, as if from a burn, not yet fully healed.

Curious, Xing Xiaolong asked him casually, "What's with your arm? Left over from a tattoo removal, or did you burn yourself?"

The long-haired youth replied with obvious annoyance, glancing disdainfully at Xing Xiaolong, "Why do you care? None of your damn business. Oh, it's you—the nutcase. I'd better stay away from you in case your madness is contagious."

With that, he actually stepped out of the line to distance himself, heading toward the left queue.

"Nutcase? Does he know me?" Xing Xiaolong was left stunned and irritated at being insulted for no reason. He was about to retort when he paused, the corners of his mouth curling in anticipation of some amusement.

As it turned out, the long-haired youth did not join the line from the back but shamelessly cut straight to the front.

As He Chenguang was about to be called for registration, he suddenly found someone had slipped in ahead of him and frowned in disapproval. Such behavior was exactly what he detested.

Although the newcomer was taller and stronger, He Chenguang showed no sign of backing down. He tapped the long-haired youth on the shoulder and said, not unkindly, "Hey, get in line."

The long-haired youth sucked his teeth in irritation, flicked his bangs with his little finger, and lazily turned his head, "What, you looking for trouble?"

He suddenly recognized He Chenguang and sneered, the memory of their previous police station encounter souring his mood.

"Looks like you're everywhere—can't shake you off," he said.

"Indeed, can't shake me," He Chenguang answered with a smile. "Don't you think what you're doing is wrong?"

"Wrong? How so?" the long-haired youth shot back, deliberately obtuse, jabbing a finger at He Chenguang’s face. "Your name's He Cheng—"

"He Chenguang," He Chenguang cut in with a smile, quickly grasping the other’s right hand and twisting it downward with force.

He Chenguang disliked being pointed at, as did most people.

The long-haired youth was startled by his strength but kept up appearances, replying as if unconcerned, "My name is Wang Yanbing. Remember it well."

"Oh, I’ll remember," He Chenguang retorted, "Who knows when we’ll cross paths again."

Watching these two—one an old foe, the other a new one—secretly grappling and ready to come to blows, Xing Xiaolong was secretly delighted, almost tempted to egg them on.

Just then, the big oaf, head down and clutching his form, hurried back, oblivious to the tension he was about to disrupt.