I enlisted four times! My former unit blacklisted me.

First Squadron.

The dormitory of Class 1.

Song Yizhou pointed to the empty dormitory room, "Come in, all of you, find your own bunks. The lower bunk by the window is mine, the rest are up to you."

The dormitory has six bunk beds, which is quite spacious, but for the trainees who have just gotten off the bus and are still processing the information that "the training camp is not a place for humans to stay," it is still a challenge.

Choosing a bed you like is even more agonizing than filling out college applications.

The upper bunk by the window is bright, but it's drafty in winter.

The lower bunk near the door is convenient, but a cold draft blows in as soon as you open the door.

If you get too close to the class monitor, you might be targeted; if you stay too far away, you might be suspected of having a problem with him.

A group of people carrying backpacks looked left and right.

Zhao Yihang was straightforward; he simply tossed his backpack onto the upper bunk, and then Qian Kun, Ma Teng, and Sun Dawei each took their places next to him.

As always, Hao Qiang wanted to stay away from Wu Hanfeng, so he chose a top bunk on the opposite side of the dormitory, creating a solid defensive line geographically.

Then Wu Hanfeng came in.

He strolled in slowly, carrying a backpack that bulged like a pregnant sow. He glanced around and his gaze landed on the lower bunk opposite Song Yizhou.

No one dares to touch that shop yet.

After all, being face-to-face with the squad leader, so close you could count the number of nose hairs on their face, is a high-risk bunk that anyone with a survival instinct wouldn't choose.

But Wu Hanfeng just happened to like this place.

He took two steps forward and put his backpack on the bed.

Song Yizhou raised an eyebrow.

These two batches of veterans either genuinely had confidence, or they genuinely didn't take their squad leader seriously.

Either way, they're both quite interesting.

"Ten minutes. Take out your personal belongings, make your bed, and tidy up your room."

Song Yizhou clapped his hands. "Everything in your backpack is spread out on the bed. I need to check it. You should hand over the contraband voluntarily. If I find it, the situation will be different."

The air in the dormitory tightened instantly upon hearing this.

Some people subconsciously touched the cigarettes hidden in the side pocket of their backpacks, while others guiltily stuffed their power banks into their blankets.

Song Yizhou's eyes swept across the area like radar, his lips curled into that unchanging smile, which only made people feel more uneasy.

"Don't even think about hiding it. I've been investigating contraband for eight years, and I've seen every kind of hiding method you can imagine. In bed frame seams, pillow cores, under shoe insoles, inside toothpaste tubes, and there was even a genius who stuck playing cards inside the cover of the ordinance, thinking I wouldn't be able to spot it."

The first person to be inspected was a first-term sergeant from the reconnaissance battalion named Chen Hao. He wasn't tall, but he looked quite capable.

The backpack was opened, revealing a neatly folded training uniform, a toiletries bag, a notebook, a sewing kit...

Song Yizhou nodded, casually flipped through the pages, found nothing, and then moved on to the next one.

The second one is Zhao Yihang.

As soon as Zhao Yihang opened his backpack, Song Yizhou frowned.

The clothes were folded neatly, but the items were arranged in a mess; socks were stuffed into shoes, and the sewing kit and toiletry bag were mixed together.

"New recruits?"

"Reporting, squad leader, one-year soldier."

"For a one-year soldier to get into the training unit, either you're exceptionally qualified, or your regiment is short of personnel." Song Yizhou's tone was neither complimentary nor critical. He reached into his pocket, rummaged through his belongings, pulled out a half-smoked pack of cigarettes from his side pocket, held it between his fingers, and waved it at him. "What's this?"

"Uh... a cigarette?"

"It's good that we know each other." Song Yizhou stuffed the cigarette into his pocket, took out a pen and made a note in his notebook, "Smoking is prohibited during the entire training period of the training team. Of course, if you perform well, I may allow you to smoke once or twice."

"Those who voluntarily surrender will be treated leniently, while those whose property I find will be dealt with severely. Considering this is your first offense, I'll confiscate the bag. Write a self-criticism and hand it in to me later."

Zhao Yihang remained silent.

The squad leader looked all smiles, but he really didn't hold back when he struck.

Ma Teng and Sun Dawei's backpacks didn't contain any contraband, but their supplies were pitifully scarce. Apart from the standard equipment issued by the army, they didn't even have an extra sewing kit.

Song Yizhou flipped through the papers, said nothing, and walked to the next bed.

Then he walked to Hao Qiang's bunk.

Song Yizhou reached out and unzipped his backpack, took out a brown paper package from the side pocket, opened it and saw that it contained half a pound of braised beef, wrapped tightly in oil paper, and smelled quite delicious.

"Oh, you even brought some dry rations? Are you worried the training team will let you go hungry?" Song Yizhou weighed the braised beef in his hand.

"Reporting, squad leader, this is something my mom insisted on giving me. She said the training in the training camp is tough, and she wanted me to improve my health..."

"Is your mother in the mess hall?"

A suppressed laugh rippled through the dormitory.

Hao Qiang's face turned bright red: "No, she's just an ordinary...ordinary mom."

"Okay, write a letter to your mother later and tell her that the food in the training camp is very good and she doesn't need to worry about it." Song Yizhou put the braised beef on the empty bed next to him and continued to rummage through it.

He then pulled out two packets of beef jerky, a bag of milk candy, and a small bottle of chili sauce from under his backpack.

"Sure, are you here for training or a field trip? Do you have any more picnic mats?"

Hao Qiang wished he could dig a hole in the ground and disappear right then and there.

Song Yizhou dumped all the snacks aside, patted Hao Qiang on the shoulder, and said earnestly, "Remember, in the training team, everything has its rules."

"Eat what you're supposed to eat, and don't touch what you're not supposed to eat. On the day you graduate, I'll return all of these things to you."

"But during the training camp, if I catch anyone sneaking snacks, I'll teach them a lesson about what real extra training is all about."

"Yes……"

Song Yizhou turned around and his gaze fell on the last bunk.

Wu Hanfeng's berth.

At this moment, Wu Hanfeng was squatting by the bed, his back to everyone, rummaging through his backpack, muttering, "Where did I put the socks... Oh, found them, the anti-friction pads are here too..."

Just as Song Yizhou walked over, Wu Hanfeng had just fully opened his backpack and dumped out its contents.

Then Song Yizhou was stunned.

Not only was he stunned, but everyone else who was tidying up nearby was also stunned.

Among the pile of things on Wu Hanfeng's bed, five pairs of brand-new training shoes were lined up in a row, the shoe boxes still unopened, and next to them were five sets of thick elbow and knee pads.

Next to it were five toiletries bags, two unopened bottles of sunscreen, two bottles of mosquito repellent, and a box of throat lozenges.

This is only the surface level.

There were other things under the backpack—five tactical notebooks, two boxes of black ballpoint pens, and two latest edition infantry tactics manuals.

Scrolling down further, there were four boxes of Yunnan Baiyao aerosol, five boxes of bruise and sprain ointment, two rows of Huoxiang Zhengqi Water, three bottles of Fengyoujing (a type of medicated oil), and one box each of gastrointestinal medicine, cold medicine, and fever reducer.

In addition, a small bottle of hand cream and two bottles of eye drops to relieve eye strain.

At the very bottom, there was a large vacuum-packed bag of braised food—five or six braised chicken legs, a dozen or so braised eggs, and a large bag of braised tofu.

In addition, there was a transparent bag containing socks and men's underwear.

Looking at the pile of things, Song Yizhou's expression visibly changed from calm to confusion, and from confusion to shock.

He served in the army for eight years and investigated contraband for eight years. He had seen people bring two packs of cigarettes and a bottle of alcohol, as well as snacks and game consoles.

I've seen people bring cell phones and tablets, and I've even seen someone secretly bring a turtle and keep it in a locker.

But I've never seen a soldier come to the training unit with a backpack that's more stuffed than a convenience store!

Protective gear – all brand new.

Pharmaceuticals – now you can open a clinic.

Snacks—enough to open a convenience store.

Is this guy here for training or for logistical support?