I enlisted four times! My former unit blacklisted me.

The truck swayed and bumped as it drove out of the regimental headquarters gate, the twenty-odd people in the truck bed swaying from side to side with the bumps of the vehicle.

"Holy crap, was this road bombed?" Qian Kun was jolted so hard that his buttocks were lifted half a foot off the ground before he landed heavily back down, grimacing and rubbing his tailbone.

"Be content. Taking a truck is already pretty good." Zhao Yihang leaned against his backpack, looking like someone who'd been there. "I heard from my old man that in the past, when they were training, they would carry their own equipment and walk to the division headquarters. It would take two days and one night, and their feet would be worn out like rotten pears."

The truck continued to bump along, and the scenery outside the window changed from the red brick walls of the regimental headquarters to the poplar trees along the country road, and then from the poplar trees to the rapeseed fields along the national highway.

Wu Hanfeng leaned against the side of the car, feeling drowsy from the swaying.

He has a problem—he gets sleepy as soon as he gets on the bus.

He used to fall asleep before the troop transport vehicle even left the camp, and Chen Zhiyuan had to kick him awake when they arrived.

The swaying rhythm of the truck was more soothing to him than a lullaby.

My eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and my head drooped little by little.

Hao Qiang sat upright beside him, looking straight ahead, keeping a close eye on Wu Hanfeng's every move out of the corner of his eye.

He had only one thought in his mind: keep his distance, stay vigilant, and absolutely not have any physical contact with this ancestor again.

He still vividly remembers being chased across half the camp last time. Even now, he has nightmares about Wu Hanfeng chasing him in a military police uniform, shouting, "Hao Qiang, your takeout is here!"

That's fucking terrifying.

But it seemed like fate was deliberately working against him.

Wu Hanfeng shook his head twice, then suddenly tilted it to the right, landing squarely on Hao Qiang's left shoulder.

Hao Qiang froze instantly.

He felt as if a red-hot iron had been applied to his left shoulder, and the muscles from his shoulder blade to the base of his neck suddenly taut like steel plates.

No, bro?

With so many people on the bus, why do you have to rely on me when you can rely on anyone else?

He stiffened his neck and glanced down out of the corner of his eye—

Wu Hanfeng leaned back so firmly, his eyes closed tightly, his breathing even and long, and there was even a faint smile on his lips, as if he were having a wonderful dream.

"Angkor?" Hao Qiang managed to squeeze out a few words. "Angkor, wake up?"

no response.

"Squad Leader Wu?"

There was still no response; she even nuzzled her head against his shoulder, finding a more comfortable angle.

Hao Qiang was about to cry.

He tried to push Wu Hanfeng's head away, but he pulled his hand back halfway through.

Push him? What if you wake him up and he gets grumpy in the morning? What if he uses his position as an inspector to make things difficult for him later?

Not pushing?

If he had to walk all the way to the division headquarters, his left shoulder would have been ruined.

He looked across at the other side as if pleading for help.

When Zhao Yihang saw Hao Qiang's pleading look, he immediately turned his head to look out of the car, pretending to admire the scenery.

Qian Kun went even further, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of Hao Qiang and Wu Hanfeng.

"Qian Kun, you son of a bitch!" Hao Qiang roared in a low voice, "Delete it! Delete it now!"

"Why delete it? It's so memorable." Qian Kun chuckled as he put his phone back in his pocket. "The whole regiment's speedsters are serving as human cushions for the disciplinary inspector. Take this photo back to our regiment's propaganda department, and we'll title it 'Deep Comradeship'."

"Deep affection my ass!" Hao Qiang's face turned red with anger, but he dared not speak loudly, afraid of waking the Buddha on his shoulder. "Do you guys have any conscience? Why don't you help me think of a solution!"

Ma Teng said, "Brother Qiang, I advise you to accept your fate. My brother Feng will sleep very soundly as long as he lets his guard down and goes to sleep."

"Last time he fell asleep under the shade of a tree on the training ground. The communications officer called out 'Time to eat' through the loudspeaker but couldn't wake him up. In the end, our company commander had to come over and kick him a couple of times to get him up."

"But we can't just let him lean on me like that!" Hao Qiang felt his left shoulder starting to go numb. "I'm afraid he'll faint on my shoulder."

"Besides, if I don't move at all, won't my back be ruined?"

"Then move around a bit," Sun Dawei rarely spoke up. "Just shift gently, and Brother Feng can change his position and continue sleeping. He won't wake up."

Hao Qiang hesitated for a moment, then thought it made sense.

He took a deep breath, and his shoulder muscles contracted slowly at a rate of one millimeter per second, trying to pull his shoulder out without disturbing Wu Hanfeng.

It only moved less than two centimeters.

Wu Hanfeng frowned in his sleep, muttering unhappily, "Don't move... if you move again, I'll undress you..."

Hao Qiang's shoulders froze instantly.

Even his sleep talking was about police matters!

This person must have been a constable in their past life!

He completely gave up struggling, resigned himself to his fate, straightened his back, and became Wu Hanfeng's human pillow.

The others in the truck bed laughed so hard they almost fell over.

Zhao Yihang joked, "Brother Qiang, you've done your part for the whole regiment. If Brother Feng sleeps well, he'll be in a better mood when he gets to the training camp. If Brother Feng is in a good mood, our lives will be easier. Don't you think so?"

"You're kidding me." Hao Qiang rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth. "When we get to the training team, the first thing I'll do is ask the captain if I can get assigned to the same class as him. Ideally, we'd be assigned to two different companies, separated by a wall."

"Do you think that's possible?" Qian Kun said gloatingly. "There are over twenty people in our group. When it comes time to assign classes, they'll definitely be assigned according to their original units. Who do you think you'll be in the same class with?"

Hao Qiang: "..."

He suddenly realized that these three months might be longer than he had imagined.

The truck continued driving forward, and Wu Hanfeng leaned on Hao Qiang's shoulder and slept soundly, almost drooling.

Hao Qiang remained in a stiff sitting posture, staring straight ahead with an empty gaze.

We wandered around like that for almost three hours.

The truck finally turned onto a concrete road lined with plane trees on both sides. The road surface was much smoother, and the truck slowed down.

Through the gaps in the sycamore trees, one can already see rows of neat barracks on the distant hillside and red flags fluttering in the wind on the training ground.

"We're here! We're here!" someone shouted excitedly.

The atmosphere in the truck bed instantly became lively. The soldiers who had slept halfway through the journey sat up straight, straightened their uniforms, adjusted their hat brims, fastened their top buttons, and tightened their belts.

After all, this is the training team of the division, and we can't let our first impressions down.

Only Hao Qiang remained motionless.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move; it was that he had completely lost feeling in his left shoulder.

"Brother Wu, Brother Wu! We're here!" He mustered his courage and nudged Wu Hanfeng's arm with his right hand.

Wu Hanfeng groggily opened his eyes, yawned, and stretched—his elbow almost hitting Hao Qiang's nose.

"We're here? So fast?" He rubbed his eyes and glanced out of the car, then stood up casually, patted Hao Qiang on the shoulder, and said gratefully, "Thanks, Xiao Qiang, I slept really well the whole way."

"Your shoulders are strong enough; they're much more comfortable to lean on than a backpack."

Hao Qiang opened his mouth, wanting to curse, but in the end...

"No...you're welcome."

He squeezed out three words through gritted teeth, mentally cursing Wu Hanfeng's ancestors for eighteen generations.