I enlisted four times! My former unit blacklisted me.

After completing the five-kilometer run in full gear, more than a hundred people lined up on the playground, drenched in sweat and panting heavily.

The class monitors in charge of keeping track of the time handed the compiled scores to Qin Gang. Qin Gang glanced down at the score sheet, said nothing, and simply nodded to Liu Zhen.

Liu Zhen understood immediately, stepped forward, and shouted, "Each class, go back and rest for twenty minutes, then lunch will be served in the cafeteria! Dismissed!"

The trainees dragged their leaden legs weakly toward the dormitory.

Wu Hanfeng led Zhao Yihang and the other three as they strolled leisurely through the crowd.

The five kilometers they just ran was indeed just a warm-up for them, but acting for nearly three kilometers was quite tiring, especially for Qian Kun, whose cheeks were still a little sore from overdoing his facial expressions.

"Brother Feng, how was my performance just now?" Qian Kun asked expectantly, rubbing his cheek.

"Too much force, zero points."

"Huh? I think I was pretty into it..."

"He was just too engrossed, like he was slaughtering a pig."

Qian Kun: "..."

Hao Qiang followed about ten meters behind them, secretly observing Wu Hanfeng's condition as he walked.

To his surprise, after running five kilometers, this guy stood there steadily, without getting dizzy or falling down, and even had the mood to comment on other people's acting skills.

The tension that had been building in his heart for so long finally eased a little—albeit only a tiny bit.

"It seems he won't get dizzy during the cross-country race... but that doesn't mean he won't get dizzy during the other events. We still need to keep our distance, keep our distance."

………………

The twenty-minute break passed in the blink of an eye.

The sharp assembly whistle sounded again, and all the trainees lined up in the dormitory building in their squadrons. Then, led by their squadron leaders, they marched in unison to the canteen.

The training team's mess hall was a drab little building.

The four squadrons filed in and took their seats in the pre-assigned areas.

Ten people sat at the long table, just enough for one class. The food was already laid out on the table—two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and a soup on stainless steel plates, with a small dish of pickled vegetables on the side.

Wu Hanfeng glanced at the plate: braised pork, stir-fried eggs with green peppers, stir-fried lettuce with garlic, hot and sour shredded potatoes, plus a bowl of tomato and egg drop soup.

The dishes were similar to those in the group tour, but the portions were much larger.

The training in the training camp is intense; without proper meals, one simply cannot endure it.

Liu Zhen, the captain of the first squadron, stood at the front of the canteen with his hands behind his back, his eyes scanning over each table.

"Everyone, listen to my command, sit!"

More than a hundred people took their seats at the same time.

The stool legs made a rattling sound as they rubbed against the ground.

Liu Zhen's brows furrowed immediately.

"stand up!"

The students who had just sat down paused for a moment, then stood up in a flurry, causing the chairs to rattle and clatter.

"sit down."

wow-

"Stand up."

wow-

"sit down!"

wow-

He sat down, stood up, sat down, stood up, and did this repeatedly seven or eight times.

With each repetition, Liu Zhen's face grew darker, until by the tenth time, his face was so black it looked like ink could drip from it.

"Do you think this is a street food stall?"

Liu Zhen roared, "The sound of chair legs hitting the ground must be uniform, neat, and crisp. Was that noise you were making just now, like the army mess hall opening for lunch, or like market aunties grabbing cabbages?"

"Let's start over. If anyone makes any noise this time, the whole class will be out of class for a couple of laps to clear their heads."

All the trainees tensed up immediately.

"Everyone's here, sit down!"

When everyone sat down, they reacted with their fastest speed ever, pressing their arms firmly against the sides of the chair as they landed, afraid of making even the slightest noise.

Finally, the sounds of more than a hundred people taking their seats merged into a crisp "thump".

Liu Zhen then nodded slightly: "Let's eat."

The trainees had just breathed a sigh of relief and picked up their chopsticks—

"Bang!"

A crisp sound came from the area of ​​the Second Squadron—some unlucky fellow with a shaky hand had dropped his chopsticks.

Liu Zhen's gaze swept across like a searchlight, accurately locking onto the direction of the third squad of the second company.

"Second Company, Third Platoon".

All ten students in the third class of the second squad put down their chopsticks in unison.

"stand up."

Ten people stood up.

"Pick up your tray and go outside to the basketball court to eat standing up."

Without saying a word, the ten people picked up their trays and walked out of the cafeteria.

No one dared to utter a word of defense, nor did anyone dare to show the slightest hint of dissatisfaction.

In the training corps, something as trivial as dropping chopsticks on the ground, which might only earn a scolding from the squad leader in an ordinary company, would be a mistake that would implicate the entire squad.

The remaining trainees all lowered their heads and ate their rice, moving even more carefully than before, not daring to let their chopsticks stray too far from their plates, for fear of following in the footsteps of the unlucky fellow who had just suffered the same fate.

Qian Kun lowered his head and carefully picked up a piece of braised pork with his chopsticks, but his eyes secretly glanced in Wu Hanfeng's direction.

Wu Hanfeng ate very calmly, picking up food, eating rice, and chewing with great ease.

This person always maintains an unwavering calm demeanor, regardless of the occasion or the situation, as if he could finish his meal first even if the sky were to fall.

Qian Kun silently exclaimed to himself, "Brother Feng is truly Brother Feng!"

Then she looked away, mimicking him, slowing down her movements, and steadily eating her meal.

But the good times didn't last long.

Just when everyone thought they could finally finish their meal in peace, a deep shout suddenly came from the area of ​​the First Squadron.

"First Company, Third Platoon!"

The students of the third squad of the first company shuddered, their chopsticks hanging in mid-air.

Liu Zhen held a grain of rice he had picked up from beside a plate in his hand, raising it into the air so that everyone in the squadron could see it clearly.

"Whose?"

A tall, thin soldier from the third squad shakily raised his hand, his expression more grim than tears: "Reporting, squad leader, it might be mine..."

"Maybe?" Liu Zhen tilted his head. "You're not sure about your rice grains? Let me ask you another question—on your first day of enlistment, did your squad leader teach you that not a single grain of rice was allowed left on your plate?"

"I taught it..."

"Then tell me, what is this?"

"It's...it's a grain of rice."

"Wrong. This is wasteful. This is not cherishing food. This is a lack of discipline." Liu Zhen slammed a grain of rice on the table. "In an ordinary company, a squad leader might just give you a couple of reminders and that would be the end of it."

"But in the training corps—you're not an ordinary soldier, you're an elite selected from each regiment, a future backbone, a future squad leader. If you can't even secure your own livelihood, how will you manage a squad in the future?"

The soldier lowered his head, his face so red it looked like it could drip blood.

"All members of the third squad of the first company, please stand up."

All ten students from Class Three stood up at the same time.

"Put down your tray, go to the track, and crawl 500 meters in a low posture. Come back and continue eating after you finish."

Without saying a word, the ten people put down their trays and walked out of the cafeteria.

The remaining trainees in the canteen lowered their heads even further, their eating movements becoming incredibly devout, as if they wanted to lick their plates so clean they could reflect their images.

Zhao Yihang looked at the last few grains of rice on his plate, picked up his chopsticks, and carefully put each grain into his mouth, chewing with great concentration.

Qian Kun and Ma Teng were so eager to hold the plates up to their eyes and check from every angle for any rice that had slipped through the net.

Sun Dawei was always very clean when he ate, and now he wiped his plate clean as if it were brand new, even using a steamed bun to clean the soup.

Wu Hanfeng didn't seem to have changed much.

He always eats quickly and efficiently, never leaving anything on his plate—in Lin Xiao's words, "This guy may not be good at anything else, but he's number one when it comes to eating; he licks his plate cleaner than a dog would."

Although the assessment was harsh, it wasn't entirely unfair to use it to describe his meticulousness when it came to eating.

In front of the cafeteria, Liu Zhen stood with his hands behind his back, his gaze slowly sweeping over each plate.

When he reached the first desk, he paused noticeably.

Every single dish in Class 1 was spotless.

Especially Wu Hanfeng's plate, not a single grain of rice was left, the soup was wiped shiny by the steamed buns, and the plate reflected light so well that you could vaguely see your reflection in it.

Liu Zhen glanced at Wu Hanfeng, his eyes filled with an indescribable emotion.

While he was running just now, this guy was putting on a show with four soldiers, but now that he's eating, his plates are spotless.

You might say he's slick, but he does everything flawlessly.

You might say he's serious, but his nonchalant demeanor doesn't really seem like he's putting in the effort.

What kind of soldier is he?