Chapter 23: Back on the Pills Again!

“Is this big guy out of his mind? The other recruit squads only have to run five kilometers with light gear; why do we have to haul a bag full of rocks up the mountain like idiots?” Wang Yanbing grumbled as he stuffed a hefty stone, weighing three or four kilograms, into Li Erniu’s backpack, clearly dissatisfied.

“I’m guessing he wants us to train with heavier loads now so we’ll run faster on the battlefield—unlike you, who’d just be cannon fodder out there,” He Chenguang replied with a mischievous grin, quick to tease.

“Oh, you know everything, don’t you? So capable—why don’t you just fly up there?” Wang Yanbing rolled his eyes, unconvinced.

“I do know, and I am capable. As for flying, wait till I become a special forces soldier—then I’ll soar up, piloting a big plane.” He Chenguang’s banter was relentless.

“Special forces? If you stopped bragging you’d drop dead, wouldn’t you?”

“All right, enough. You two, quit fighting.” Xing Xiaolong interrupted their quarrel, stuffing stones into He Chenguang’s backpack with determined confidence. “If the recruit squad is allowed to select only one for the special forces, neither of you have a chance. The spot is mine—Xing Xiaolong.”

“Pfft!”

Wang Yanbing and He Chenguang, expecting some profound wisdom, instead exchanged perfectly synchronized eye rolls and raised their middle fingers skyward.

Contempt! Contempt for shamelessness!

The four had been deliberately assigned to the same squad by Gong Jian, and this kind of banter before formal training had become routine among the three. The “out-of-credit” Li Erniu could only force a bitter smile at times like these.

For Xing Xiaolong and the other two, training was never stressful; every exercise became a stage for competition. Li Erniu, however, struggled. Whenever physical training began, fear drained the color from his face, and afterward he was exhausted to the point of dizziness, unable to distinguish east from west. Compared to the three heavyweights, he was simply on another channel.

“What are you dawdling for? Chattering away—hurry up, fill those bags!” The instructor, “Blackie,” kept a close eye on Xing Xiaolong, He Chenguang, and Wang Yanbing. Seeing them still bantering instead of training, he cut in sternly to warn them.

He then grabbed a megaphone and barked, “Fill your backpacks, don’t skimp on weight, and don’t try to cheat. If I catch you, you’ll regret it. The heavier your load during training, the faster you’ll run later. If you skimp, you’ll be sluggish on the battlefield, and bullets don’t care who you are. Running fast and charging hard—that’s the first rule for an infantryman’s survival.”

Hearing Blackie’s so-called first rule of survival, He Chenguang grinned triumphantly and boasted to Wang Yanbing, “See? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, look at you, all proud…”

“Fall in!” Wang Yanbing was about to retort when Blackie’s command cut him off. He could only raise his right index finger in a “Number One” gesture, challenging He Chenguang.

He Chenguang was undeterred, responding with a raised pinky—“You’re not up to it, just a kid!”

He then tilted his chin at Xing Xiaolong, openly issuing a challenge, determined to redeem his loss from the last 400-meter obstacle course.

“Eat my dust,” Xing Xiaolong mouthed silently, giving a vivid pat to his backside, tightening his heavy pack, and confidently joining the formation.

Military running typically comes in three forms: bare-handed with no gear, light equipment with only weapons and tactical supplies, and full individual combat gear with all battle-ready items.

For full gear, the standard items include: tactical vest, four rifle magazines, a Type 95 rifle, four stick grenades, military canteen, ballistic helmet, a satchel with daily essentials, a backpack with bedding and other encampment supplies, spare shoes and clothes, raincoat, washbasin, towel, and so forth.

All together, these items usually weigh between 25 and 30 kilograms. Now, for their mountain sprint training, Xing Xiaolong and the others had packed their backpacks with dense stones, the load easily exceeding 40 kilograms.

Though these recruits had gained some stamina after a month of training, eighty pounds was still far too heavy.

Overburdened!

Standing in formation, some recruits swayed under the weight, others hunched over. Even the leading trio—Xing Xiaolong, He Chenguang, and Wang Yanbing—felt as if their legs were filled with lead, shoulders crushed by a mountain, their breaths heavy and labored.

As for Li Erniu, whose physical stamina was the weakest, he couldn’t think about anything else. All he could do was stand and gulp air, desperately trying to alleviate his stiffening body with as much fresh oxygen as possible.

In his condition, scaling the mountain was a feat; never mind running, walking up would already be an achievement.

“Target: that peak.” Blackie was indifferent to whether the recruits could manage the run. He pointed to the mountaintop hundreds of meters away and shouted coldly, “Qualified if you go up and back within ten minutes. If not, keep running until you pass. Go!”

None of the recruits wanted to fail and spend the day sprinting up and down the mountain, ending up half dead from exhaustion.

No matter how hard it was, they could only grit their teeth and push on.

“Ah—!” With a collective roar, more than a hundred recruits summoned every ounce of strength and charged toward the mountaintop.

The leading trio, as always, were He Chenguang and Xing Xiaolong, locked in a fierce running rivalry. Wang Yanbing, face flushed red, clung close behind.

The second group consisted of a large batch of recruits whose progress could hardly be called running—it was more like struggling forward, sometimes scraping at the ground for leverage.

The pain and effort soon stretched the group into a line tens of meters long.

Last, as always, was Li Erniu, lagging at the rear. On the steep slope, he scrambled on all fours, embarrassed and slow, but without crawling, even moving a meter forward was a challenge.

After all, eighty pounds is a heavy load. Most people could barely walk on flat ground carrying it, let alone run, especially up a slope of over thirty degrees to the summit.

Xing Xiaolong, He Chenguang, and Wang Yanbing had the best stamina, and their mutual competition spurred them to run hard all the way to the halfway point.

But that was as far as they could go!

Everyone knows how exhausting mountain climbing is—the closer to the top, the worse it gets. The fact that the three managed to run halfway up was already impressive.

Blackie, in charge of training, and Gong Jian, overseeing from the midpoint, were both satisfied.

However, the trio, already fired up, had no intention of “calling a truce.” Instead, they pushed themselves even harder.

Recruit training scores were calculated individually, then assessed collectively to assign recruits to different units.

Military units, like universities, have good and bad ones. The elite companies have ample funding and superior weapons, enough resources to forge crack troops, while the weaker units can only envy them, grumbling about how those “lucky bastards” live the good life.

Xing Xiaolong and his friends were ambitious—they wanted to be assigned to the best units after recruit training. At the same time, none wanted to lose out to the others.

But desire and grit alone weren’t enough. Physical capability was fundamental; if you weren’t built for it, effort alone would never suffice.

He Chenguang had been trained by his grandfather since childhood, his physique honed scientifically. In extreme challenge training, his near-perfect body played a crucial role when potential and determination mattered most.

On the remaining half of the climb, no matter how hard Xing Xiaolong and Wang Yanbing tried, they could only watch as He Chenguang pulled ahead, leaving them behind and racing to the summit, winning this round of training.

“Damn it, how…how does this bastard run so fast? I’m about to drop dead from exhaustion,” Wang Yanbing gasped, his lungs burning, too breathless to speak properly. He wanted to catch up but simply lacked the strength.

He was so frustrated he could cough up blood.

At least Xing Xiaolong, always among the leaders, seemed to be faltering too, which made Wang Yanbing feel slightly better. He teased habitually, “Xing Xiaolong, what’s wrong? Can’t run anymore?”

“I remember…you’ve never lost before. I thought you were invincible, but it turns out you can lose too—ha!”

“You…you really think I’ll lose?” Xing Xiaolong, breathing heavily, wiped sweat from his brow.

“With your stamina shot, you’re no better than me. You’re bound to lose,” Wang Yanbing declared confidently.

“Oh, is that so?”

Already intending to pull a stunt, Xing Xiaolong was delighted at the chance to make a bet. “In that case, want to bet on it?”

“Sure, what’s the wager?”

He knew he had no hope of winning this round, so Wang Yanbing was ready for some fun.

“If I’m first to the summit, you have to call me ‘Brother Long’ from now on and do whatever I say. If He Chenguang gets there first, I’ll call you ‘Brother Bing’ and be your loyal little brother.”

“Wow, that’s a big gamble.”

Wang Yanbing’s eyes darted quickly, clearly considering his options.

“What’s wrong? Scared?” Xing Xiaolong prodded.

Wang Yanbing looked ahead and saw He Chenguang already thirty or forty meters ahead, with less than two hundred meters to the summit. Feeling the odds were in his favor, he had no further doubts.

“Me, scared? Since when has Wang Yanbing ever been afraid? All right, I accept. Let’s do it your way.”

“Good, I like your guts. Just wait to call me Brother Long—ha!” Wang Yanbing fell right into the trap, and Xing Xiaolong grinned, rubbing his gold ring with his thumb, then opened the CF shop interface once more.