I put you in charge of those rebellious female soldiers, how come they all became top special forces

The meeting lasted for nearly two hours.

An Jianjun barely spoke throughout the entire process, only briefly reporting on the basic situation of ancient martial arts forces within the Southwest Military Region's jurisdiction when he was called upon.

But his eyes remained fixed on the notebook in front of the middle-aged man surnamed Shen.

During the two-hour discussion, the middle-aged man surnamed Shen could count the number of pages he turned on one hand.

An Jianjun was not close enough to see most of the content clearly.

But with his eyesight honed over the years, he could vaguely make out one of the words.

Differentiation.

An Jianjun's heart skipped a beat.

The meeting ended, and everyone gradually left.

Just as An Jianjun stood up to leave, the middle-aged man surnamed Shen suddenly raised his hand.

"Commander An, please stay for a moment."

The others paused, a few meaningful glances were cast their way, then they quickly looked away and left.

Only two people remained in the meeting room.

The middle-aged man surnamed Shen closed his laptop, leaned back, and relaxed.

"Commander An, please sit down."

An Jianjun sat down again, his back ramrod straight.

The middle-aged man surnamed Shen smiled and said, "I heard you have an instructor in your military region who's quite good at fighting?"

An Jianjun's heart skipped a beat.

It was somewhat frightening to hear these words come out of this man's mouth.

But he remained expressionless and replied calmly.

"You mean Chen Zheng, the head instructor of the Mulan Special Forces? He did perform very well."

The middle-aged man surnamed Shen nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

He stood up, walked around the table to An Jianjun, and patted him on the shoulder.

"Thanks for your hard work."

He said three words and then left.

……

On the way back, An Jianjun sat alone in the back seat.

The car window was half open, and the wind was blowing in, making his hair fly wildly, but he didn't even bother to raise his hand to tidy it up.

That middle-aged man surnamed Shen is definitely not of low rank.

To command such respect from those local officials who usually ignore everyone else, one must at least be a core advisor to the second-in-command, or perhaps even higher.

Such a person would not utter a single word or phrase casually.

But what exactly did he mean by his last question?

"I heard you have an instructor in your military region who's pretty good at fighting?"

An Jianjun pondered this sentence over and over in his mind more than a dozen times.

If it's a warning, then the words should be stronger and more direct.

For example, "manage your people well" or "don't let the lower-level people run wild."

But he didn't.

You're pretty good at fighting, you must have worked hard?

It sounds more like...appreciation?

Or is he testing his own attitude?

An Jianjun took out a cigarette case from his pocket, pulled one out, and put it in his mouth.

He recalled what Chen Zheng had said in the office a few days earlier.

"I don't accept it."

"I'm going to report this to the top leader."

And that last request.

"If it comes to the most critical moment, help me deliver something to where it's supposed to be."

I gritted my teeth and agreed.

To be honest, I was very nervous when I agreed.

I always felt that this young man was too reckless and would inevitably get hurt sooner or later.

But today's meeting...

An Jianjun took a deep drag on his cigarette.

The order to give each of them thirty lashes was given by the second-in-command.

But what about the top leader?

The top leader passed this hot potato to the second-in-command to handle, without ever expressing his opinion.

No statement is the strongest stance.

If the top leader truly approved of the second-in-command's handling of the situation, then this matter would have been completely over long ago.

It's impossible for them to specifically send a middle-aged man surnamed Shen to the provincial capital to hold some kind of meeting about the management of ancient martial arts families.

It's even less likely that the word "division" would be written in a notebook during a meeting.

An Jianjun's hand trembled slightly.

A bold guess, so audacious it startled even himself, rose from the depths of his mind.

The top leader may not be satisfied with this "tit-for-tat" outcome at all.

It's just that it's inconvenient for the top leader to personally get involved.

This is too dirty a thing to do. When the top leader gets involved, it signifies a complete shift in the national will. At that point, it won't just be these five powerful families, but all the powerful families joining forces.

Therefore, what the top leader needs is someone below to get things done.

It has reached a point of no return, a point where it must be dealt with.

Only then can the highest levels of government take up the matter again in a logical and reasonable manner, and resolve it completely in a way that leaves everyone speechless.

If so...

What Chen Zheng is doing now, although it seems like he is going against orders from his superiors.

But in reality, it may have hit the very spot that the highest level really needed.

The middle-aged man surnamed Shen left me alone and asked me that one question.

This is not a warning.

Yes, it's confirmed.

We need to confirm whether there is such a usable piece in the Southwest Military Region.

An Jianjun stubbed out his cigarette abruptly.

This idea is too dangerous.

What if the judgment is wrong?

What if this is just a normal question, and I, based on this speculation, secretly condone or even assist Chen Zheng in committing a heinous crime?

At that time, not only will Chen Zheng be finished, but I, the brigade commander, will also have to go in with him.

It could even endanger Anran, or even her own father.

An Jianjun rubbed his face vigorously, closed the car window, and leaned back in his seat.

forget about it.

Overthinking will lead to trouble.

Let's take a step by step.

……

On the same night.

Communications Office of the Southwest Military Region.

He nestled in his gaming chair, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

Chen Zheng sat down next to him, unscrewed the lid of the thermos, and blew on the hot air.

"Zong Yanhui is back from the capital," Keyboard said without looking up. "He spent more than three hours with people from the four major families in a teahouse."

"What exactly did you talk about?"

"I don't know. That teahouse has a very high level of security, and the network is completely isolated. I couldn't infiltrate it."

"However, I captured a few clips from the surveillance footage when they left. All four of them looked rather grim when they came out, especially Zhao Tingxuan, the head of the Zhao family, who slammed the door shut as he left."

Chen Zheng drank some goji berry water, but his illness didn't seem to affect him much.

"As expected."

Zong Yanhui's purpose for this trip to Beijing was obvious to anyone.

They're just trying to use dirt on people to blackmail them.

You have something on me, and I have something on you; we're all tied in a knot that no one can escape.

This tactic does work in the short term.

The problem is that a relationship based on fear is essentially a ticking time bomb.

Those who are bound are not filled with loyalty, but with fear.

Once someone can dispel this fear, the entire building will collapse instantly.

Chen Zheng put down his thermos and took out his phone.

A new message appeared on the screen.

An unfamiliar number, no name, only five characters.

"The Zhou family has connections."

Chen Zheng looked at it for two seconds, then locked the phone and put it back in his pocket.

There was no extra expression on his face.

Keyboard glanced at him furtively, opened its mouth as if to ask what was going on, but ultimately didn't ask.

Forget it.

Having followed the instructors for so long, her biggest takeaway is one thing.

Don't ask, because you're not worthy to know.