Too many female prisoners, a special forces soldier transmigrates and marries wildly.

Three days after Zhao Dayong left with Su Mo, the atmosphere in the Beacon Fire Camp began to become somewhat delicate.

The story of Lin Feng's "miraculous" three arrows initially circulated only within the Seventh Company, but it quickly spread like wildfire throughout the entire Beacon Fire Camp. With embellishments reminiscent of storytellers, Lin Feng was portrayed as a master archer capable of hitting a target from a hundred paces away, never missing his mark. This elicited reactions from various quarters.

The most direct benefit came from the extra "care" given to squad leader Zhang Kui.

"Lin Feng, starting today, after morning and evening drills, you will practice archery for an extra hour every day." Zhang Kui called Lin Feng outside the barracks, his face expressionless, but his eyes carrying an unquestionable command. "I've prepared the target for you; it's in the field behind the camp. As for arrows... you can take them from the camp's communal quiver, twenty per day."

This means they're going to train Lin Feng as a full-time archer.

In border garrisons, a skilled archer is invaluable in defense and small-scale engagements, effectively reducing friendly casualties. For Zhang Kui, as a squad leader, having a capable archer under his command would be beneficial both in completing military tasks and in accumulating battle merits.

"Yes, sergeant." Lin Feng had no objection. He needed to practice and familiarize himself with this body, and he also needed a reasonable excuse to explain his "superb" archery skills that he might display in the future—just say it was "extra practice".

The arrows in the communal quiver weren't much better than his own, but at least the quantity was guaranteed. Lin Feng began his daily, unwavering extra training. Several simple straw targets were set up in the field behind the camp, and he stood fifty, eighty, or even a hundred paces away, shooting arrow after arrow.

Initially, this body's muscle memory and coordination were far inferior to his consciousness, resulting in inconsistent arrow shots. However, he possessed the most scientific training methods and the muscle control experience honed through countless trials in his previous life. Within three days, his accuracy stabilized, especially within eighty paces, where he almost always hit the bullseye. He even began practicing rapid shooting, anticipating moving targets, and adjusting his aim under varying wind conditions.

All of this naturally fell into the eyes of those who were interested.

First, there were the brothers from the same platoon. For the first few days, some people went to watch the spectacle and marveled at it. Later, seeing that Lin Feng was taciturn and just buried himself in shooting, they lost interest and assumed that he had suddenly become lucky and had figured things out, plus the platoon leader valued him and he was working hard on his own.

But others are not so friendly.

That evening, Lin Feng had just finished shooting his last arrow and was stretching his aching arms when three figures staggered over.

The leader was a scarred, burly man named Liu Biao, the squad leader of the Fifth Squad, and a notorious tough guy in the Beacon Fire Battalion. It was rumored that he had some shady dealings with a squad in the battalion. Behind him were two henchmen, both with menacing faces and unfriendly eyes.

"Hey, isn't this our newest archer from the Beacon Fire Camp?" Liu Biao said sarcastically, chewing on something, his gaze sweeping over the bow in Lin Feng's hand and the target in the distance.

"Practicing quite diligently, huh? What, thinking of collecting a few more heads so you can pick a woman to warm your bed?"

Lin Feng stopped what he was doing and looked at them calmly.

Liu Biao made almost no attempt to conceal his malice.

In the border troops, it is not uncommon for people to become jealous of others who suddenly stand out, and even try to suppress or extort them.

"Squad Leader Liu." Lin Feng nodded as a greeting, then bent down to gather the scattered arrows, not wanting to get entangled.

"Hey, don't be in such a hurry to leave." Liu Biao stepped forward and blocked his way, saying with a forced smile, "I heard you got a reward of 1,200 coins the other day? And a bolt of cloth? You're lucky, kid. We brothers are a bit short on cash lately, how about lending me some money? I'll look after you in the camp from now on."

Blatant extortion.

Lin Feng straightened up, still holding a few arrows in his hand. He was a head taller than Liu Biao, and although he looked thin, his calm and unwavering gaze made Liu Biao's heart skip a beat.

"Most of the reward money has been spent on warm clothes and food, leaving very little. If the squad leader is short of money, why don't you go and borrow from the squad leader?" Lin Feng's tone was calm, but he emphasized the words "squad leader" slightly.

He knew Liu Biao had some connections, but not very deep; otherwise, he wouldn't have only been a sergeant. Invoking a higher-ranking officer was a subtle reminder and a rejection.

Liu Biao's face darkened. He hadn't expected this usually quiet soldier to dare to talk back so directly and even subtly use his squad's strength to pressure him.

"You motherfucker..." one of Liu Biao's henchmen opened his mouth to curse.

"Squad Leader Liu," Lin Feng interrupted him, his gaze still calm as he looked at Liu Biao, "Squad Leader Zhang asked me to practice archery more, so that I can make contributions in the future and also bring honor to our Beacon Fire Battalion. If I delay because of some trivial matter of money, and Squad Leader Zhang asks about it, or if I make a mistake because I'm not skilled enough when we encounter the enemy next time, I'm afraid it will be difficult to explain."

These words, while seemingly gentle, were actually quite firm. They both highlighted Zhang Kui's "high regard" for the matter and elevated personal grudges to a level that could potentially affect the war effort and collective interests.

Liu Biao wasn't just a reckless fool; he understood the meaning behind Lin Feng's words. Offending a potentially valuable "technical soldier" for a little money, and possibly being labeled a threat to combat readiness, was not worth it. Especially Lin Feng's excessively calm gaze, which made him a little uneasy. This kid seemed different from before.

"Hmph!" Liu Biao ultimately didn't dare to directly snatch it, after all, everyone was watching. He snorted heavily, "Sharp-tongued! Practice your archery, but be careful not to break the bowstring and hurt yourself!" After uttering these harsh words, he left with his two henchmen, looking dejected.

Lin Feng watched their departing figures, his eyes slightly cold. The trouble wouldn't end there; Liu Biao was the type to hold grudges. But he wasn't afraid. He'd experienced far more dangerous situations in his previous life. This local bully in the camp—as long as he displayed sufficient value and a formidable presence, the other party would think twice.

This was just a minor incident. A bigger wave of trouble came a few days later during a camp exercise.

The Beacon Fire Battalion conducts a battalion-wide drill once a month, primarily to practice basic combat formation coordination and assess the training results of each squad. This time, the battalion commander (equivalent to a company commander) and several squad leaders were present.

The drills included sword and shield coordination, spear thrusting, and finally, archers shooting at fixed targets. Archers from each tribe took turns shooting from eighty paces away, five arrows per round, and the one who hit the target the most times won.

When it was the seventh turn, Zhang Kui directly called out Lin Feng's name.

Lin Feng stepped forward, picked up his shortbow, and walked to his firing position. He could feel all sorts of gazes coming from around him—curious, scrutinizing, indifferent, and, like Liu Biao, malicious.

The battalion commander, a stern-faced man in his forties surnamed Han, also turned his gaze over. Clearly, he had also heard about the new recruit who had "repelled the enemy with three arrows."

Lin Feng took a deep breath, clearing his mind of distractions. Eighty paces, wind force level two, crosswind. The target was a haystack with a simple human figure drawn on it.

He drew his arrow, nocked it, drew the bow, and aimed—his movements were fluid and steady, lacking the obvious breath-holding and deliberate aiming of an ordinary archer, but rather possessing a natural, flowing quality.

Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!

Five arrows were fired in quick succession, with very short intervals, almost as if they were fired in one go.

The soldier reporting the hits ran over to check, then shouted the count: "All five arrows hit the bullseye! Three were bullseyes (head), and two were on the target (torso)!"

A slight murmur rippled through the crowd. Hitting all five targets wasn't unusual; several veteran archers in the Beacon Fire Camp could do it too. But those with Lin Feng's speed, steady rhythm, and high percentage of hits on vital points were rare indeed. Especially his movements, which possessed an indescribable crispness and efficiency.

Han Yingzheng nodded slightly and said something to Zhang Kui beside him. Zhang Kui smiled.

Next, the other archers from the various ranks took to the field. The best one managed to hit four out of five targets, but his rate of fire was noticeably slower than Lin Feng's.

After the exercise, Han Ying publicly commended several outstanding performers, including Lin Feng.

"Soldier Lin Feng of the Seventh Platoon is skilled in archery and performed meritoriously in defending against the enemy the other day. He also showed excellent performance in today's drill. He is hereby awarded three hundred cash and ten finely crafted arrows as encouragement. It is hoped that you will train diligently and achieve more military exploits in the future!"

Three hundred coins wasn't much, but the key was "ten finely crafted arrows" and public praise. This meant that Lin Feng had officially entered the sights of the battalion commander and even higher-ranking officers, and had gained practical support—finely crafted arrows were a rare commodity in the Beacon Fire Battalion.

He could sense that several gazes behind him had become more intense and hostile, including Liu Biao's.

Sure enough, after the exercise ended, when Lin Feng went to the quartermaster to collect the finely crafted arrows, he was blocked by Liu Biao and his men at the corner.

This time, Liu Biao's face darkened even more: "Kid, not bad, you've climbed up the social ladder? Even Battalion Commander Han personally rewarded you?"

Lin Feng carefully inserted the newly received arrows into the quiver on his back and calmly said, "The battalion commander is fair in rewarding and punishing, only to encourage soldiers to fight bravely. Lin Feng dares not be arrogant."

"Stop playing dumb with me!" Liu Biao said in a low, menacing voice. "Don't think you're so great just because Zhang Kui and the battalion commander value you! Let me tell you, the Beacon Fire Battalion is a deep and dangerous place! Be careful you don't 'accidentally' die out there one day on a mission!"

This is a blatant threat.

Lin Feng raised his eyes, looking directly at Liu Biao, a hint of coldness finally appearing in his gaze: "Does Squad Leader Liu mean to make me 'accidentally' die out there?"

His tone was calm, but for some reason, combined with those dark, calm eyes, it sent a chill down Liu Biao's spine, as if he were being stared at by some dangerous wild beast. He remembered the way Lin Feng had looked at him a few days ago, and it was exactly the same as now.

"...You, you shut up!" Liu Biao said, his voice trembling with fear. "I'm just warning you, don't get too arrogant!"

"Thank you for the reminder, Squad Leader Liu." Lin Feng withdrew his gaze, ignored him, and walked straight past him. "I'll be careful and avoid any 'accidents'."

Liu Biao stood there, watching Lin Feng's tall but slightly thin figure disappear around the corner of the barracks, remaining motionless for a long time. One of his henchmen whispered behind him, "Brother Biao, that kid's got a strange streak..."

"Shut up!" Liu Biao growled irritably. He was indeed somewhat frightened by Lin Feng's gaze for a moment, but that fear was quickly replaced by stronger anger and jealousy. What right did a previously insignificant soldier have?

"Just you wait!" Liu Biao spat, his eyes sinister.

Back at the Seventh Barracks, Zhang Kui called Lin Feng aside.

"Liu Biao is causing you trouble again?" Zhang Kui was well-informed.

"A little argument is nothing," Lin Feng replied.

Zhang Kui patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "Liu Biao is petty and has some dirty tricks up his sleeve. You've been getting a lot of attention lately, so it's normal for him to be jealous. But don't worry too much. With the battalion commander's words in mind, he won't dare to act recklessly openly. Just be smart and stick close to your own brothers when you're on missions."

"Understood, thank you, Sergeant." Lin Feng nodded. Zhang Kui was indicating that he would protect him to some extent.

"Practice your archery well." Zhang Kui looked at him. "Our Beacon Fire Camp is in dire need of a skilled archer like you. Work hard, collect enough heads, and get married. That's better than anything else."

It was that same old saying again: "Collect enough heads, then marry a wife." This had become the greatest source of inspiration and the ultimate goal for the lower-ranking soldiers of the Beacon Fire Battalion.

Lin Feng gripped the new arrow in his hand; its cool touch invigorated him.

Trouble has arisen, but so has opportunity.

He needs to move faster, accumulate merits, and gain greater influence and self-protection.

People like Liu Biao are nothing more than a few stumbling blocks on the road ahead.

Just kick it away.