Chapter 35: The Soldier’s Unique Catchphrase

The first phase of the assessment focused entirely on physical fitness, with push-ups marking the beginning of the test. As the second event—sit-ups—commenced, the subtle thrill that Xing Xiaolong had stirred with his understated display began to dissipate, swept away by the urgency of the competition.

In this round, Wang Yanbing continued to pursue the lead, while He Chenguang and Li Erniu pushed themselves relentlessly. Forced to abandon his flamboyant tactics, Xing Xiaolong returned to form, taking first place with a standard of seventy-six sit-ups in one minute, each requiring the elbows to touch the knees. This performance put him neck and neck with Yanbing and He Chenguang, who had tied for first in the push-up event.

The three far surpassed the usual scores of new recruits, marking themselves as a formidable vanguard that stood apart from the rest. Following the sit-ups, a series of other physical fitness challenges arrived in quick succession: pull-ups, parallel bars, dips, and chin-ups, among others.

In these events, Xing Xiaolong relied neither on stimulants nor tricks, but with the advantage of his amethyst constitution and a mysterious, innate resilience, he matched He Chenguang—the most well-rounded competitor—and Wang Yanbing, who pushed himself harder than anyone else, blow for blow, neither side able to gain the upper hand.

Perhaps spurred on by these three, Li Erniu also began to exceed his usual limits. Though his scores still lagged behind the top trio, he managed to pull ahead of the remaining recruits, showing early signs of becoming the fourth strongest.

When the red flare shot up from the starting line, signaling the start of the ultimate test of endurance—a five-kilometer run in light gear—Wang Yanbing, Xing Xiaolong, and He Chenguang leapt forward like tigers unleashed. Li Erniu’s eyes flashed with envy and determination as he gritted his teeth and followed his formidable brothers.

Though the other recruits already knew that with these three monsters ahead, their chances of joining Sharpshooter Fourth Company were slim to none, not a single one gave up. Each pushed themselves to the limit—not for any reward, but to honor the sweat and effort they’d poured into the last three months.

They would prove themselves with their best performance.

Xing Xiaolong was the first to cross the finish line, shouting in triumph, followed closely by He Chenguang, Wang Yanbing, and Li Erniu. The physical fitness assessments thus came to an end, giving way to the evaluation of their military skills.

This next phase included nearly ten sub-events: the 400-meter obstacle course, low and high crawl maneuvers, disassembly and reassembly of the Type 95 rifle, and the 100-meter fixed-target shooting, among others.

Unlike the physical tests, these required more than sheer strength. Intelligence, dexterity, and the ability to coordinate every part of the body and mind became the true measure of a soldier.

The rivalry among the Four Musketeers continued, each excelling in different military skills, trading victories back and forth.

At 5:20 in the afternoon, the early winter dusk was already descending, unlike the bright summer evenings. The recruits were assembled at the shooting range, about to face the event that carried the most weight and meant the most to Sharpshooter Fourth Company—the climactic final: the 100-meter live-fire fixed-target shooting.

Rows of targets stood before them, and on the sandbag rests lay precision-calibrated Type 95 rifles, neatly aligned.

Suddenly, a strong wind swept across the range, making the red flags whip and snap. Old Hei tested the wind speed with his hand and frowned, while Gong Jian let go of a slip of paper, which was instantly carried several meters away.

To further increase the difficulty, the shooting was scheduled for dusk, when the light was already poor. The challenge of live-fire shooting had just risen another notch.

“The wind’s rather strong today,” commented Old Hei.

“Yes, it caught us off guard. Is there something you want to say?” Gong Jian replied with a smile, implying that calling off the assessment was out of the question.

Canceling was impossible—the training schedule for recruits was set in stone, and today was the final day. At dawn the next morning, every recruit would leave the new recruit company and be assigned to various posts within the Iron Fist Regiment according to their scores.

The best two would naturally go to Sharpshooter Fourth Company; the less fortunate ones might end up... tending pigs.

“Nothing,” Old Hei replied, understanding Gong Jian’s meaning. He addressed the recruits directly: “At ease, everyone. As you can see, the wind is strong and the sun is almost set—a perfect time to test your marksmanship. But for you, this weather is far from ideal; it’s a real test of your shooting skills. I know you’re all happy to show your abilities today, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Squad Leader,” the recruits answered automatically.

In the army, there are no hidden agendas, nor is anyone interested in lecturing you about civilian life. If a recruit wants to get by, the first thing he must learn is to say, “Yes, Squad Leader,” whether he likes it or not.

This is the most basic rule of survival, and marks the beginning of a soldier’s sacred duty to obey orders.

“Happy, my ass. What a load of nonsense,” Old Hei snapped, glaring at them. “I know you’re not happy. The wind will mess with your aim, and the poor visibility makes it even harder to judge your shots. Now answer me again—are you happy?”

“No, Squad Leader!” the recruits shouted, their voices much louder than before.

“Then why did you say you were happy just now?” Old Hei demanded.

Had they said that? Clearly not! But that’s how it is in the army—if the squad leader says you said it, then you did. Even if his order is wrong, you obey first and lodge a complaint with a superior later; never question him on the spot.

This is a timeless rule observed by every army in every nation. Logically, it may seem unreasonable, but in the army, it is simply the way things are.

After all, consider this: in wartime, if every soldier could question or argue with orders, there would be as many opinions as there were men, and the unit would fall apart under endless debate, leaving them helpless before the enemy.

That is why, under these ironclad military rules, after years of military life, “Yes, Squad Leader” in China or “Yes, sir” abroad becomes every soldier’s mantra—a unique form of muscle memory.