Rebirth of a Mercenary: The Ace Mercenary Forced to Be the Beloved of the Group

"Letter of self-criticism"

"Squad Leader Li, I was wrong."

"This morning at four o'clock, you taught us how to fold blankets. I watched you carefully as you folded them. Your hands were so fast, so fast that my eyes couldn't keep up. I only saw your hands moving back and forth on the blanket, and then the blanket seemed to be magically transformed from a soft lump into a angular brick. I thought to myself, if only my hands had that kind of magic. But my hands don't have magic. My hands are just two rice scoops worn on my arms."

"The first time I folded it, it looked like a flattened pumpkin. Squad Leader Lu came over, glanced at it, and helped me unfold the blanket again. He had a smile on his face as he helped me, but I could tell that there were many, many things hidden beneath his smile. He didn't say them aloud, but I read them in his eyes. His eyes were saying: Zhao Xiaohu, is this a blanket or a steamed bun that you've folded?"

"The second time I folded it, it looked like a flattened loaf of bread. The third time, I didn't even know what it looked like anymore. The quilt was squatting on the ground, looking at me, and I was squatting on the ground, looking at it. We stared at each other for a long time. I felt like it was mocking me. So I got anxious."

"In my panic, I grabbed the two corners of the blanket and used all my strength to pull it up."

"Then the blanket flew up."

"When it took flight, time seemed to slow down. I watched it unfold in the air, like a big green bird, a green cloud, or a green parachute. It flew so high, above my head, above the edge of the upper bunk, and then it began to fall."

"It falls in the direction you are standing."

Lu Xiao pinched the outside of his thigh with his left hand under the table.

"At that moment, I only had one thought in my mind: It's over."

"As the blanket fell, I saw the whole process of it covering your face. First your forehead disappeared, then your eyes, then your nose, and finally your chin. Your whole face was covered. You stood there, with my blanket on your head, like a statue covered with a white sheet that hadn't been unveiled yet."

Li Mo's breathing became noticeably heavier.

"I will never forget the way you took the blanket off my face. You moved so slowly that I could count to five in my mind. With each number, my heart sank an inch. By the time I reached five, my heart had sunk to the soles of my feet, through the concrete floor, through the floorboards, and into the storage room on the first floor."

"After you took the blanket down, you glanced at me."

"How can I describe that look? It was like the look my mom gave me when I was a kid and she caught me sneaking a bite of braised pork from the kitchen, standing in the kitchen doorway and staring at me. Except your look was a hundred times more intense than my mom's. If looks could kill, I would have been sliced ​​up, arranged on a plate, sprinkled with scallions, and drizzled with hot oil by now."

Lu Xiao's lips began to twitch visibly.

"Then you turned your gaze to Qian Duoduo. Qian Duoduo's blanket had also slipped to your feet at that moment. You looked down at the blanket at your feet, then looked up at Qian Duoduo. That scene reminded me of an idiom: misfortunes never come singly."

"No, it's adding insult to injury."

"No, that's not right. It's more like kicking someone when they're down—no, it's like adding fuel to the fire—well, that's the gist of it. It's like bad things happening one after another, like a string of firecrackers that keep going off, one after another."

"The dormitory was so quiet you could hear the dust settling on the floor. I stood there, empty-handed, my blanket gone, my dignity gone. Qian Duoduo stood next to me, her face as white as a steamed bun in the cafeteria. The two of us stood side by side in your line of sight, like two eggplants that had been hit by frost."

"At that moment, I suddenly understood a truth. A blanket has a soul. If you don't treat it well, it will fly up and take revenge on you. It will not only take revenge on you, but it will also choose the worst time, the worst direction, and the worst place to land. It is like a silent avenger, using the softest way to give people the heaviest blow."

"My dearest blanket, I'm so sorry."

"I am even more sorry to my beloved Squad Leader Li."

"I promise to practice folding blankets properly from now on. I swear. If a similar incident happens again, I will voluntarily run two extra kilometers, write an 800-word self-criticism, clean the toilets for a month, and wash the socks for the whole class for a month. Heaven and earth bear witness to this promise, and the sun and moon are my witnesses."

"With best regards."

"Zhao Xiaohu".

Li Mo put the letter down.

Lu Xiao's body began to tremble slightly.

It wasn't cold. The meeting room faced east, bathed in the warm morning light. Nor was it frightening.

It's a smile.

He read it from beginning to end, and every absurd metaphor hit him like a cannonball.

Li Mo turned her head and looked at him.

Lu Xiao used all his strength to keep his facial expression within a relatively normal range.

"Lu Xiao".

"exist."

"Laugh if you want to."

Lu Xiao's lips had barely parted a crack.

"Laugh until you finish an 800-word self-criticism."

Lu Xiao's lips closed again.

"I didn't mean to laugh."

Your shoulders are shaking.

"Shoulder cramp."

"Should I pull on both shoulders at once?"

"Symmetrical muscle cramps, an old problem."

Li Mo didn't expose him. He turned back, folded the two sheets of paper together, aligned the corners, and flattened them.

Then he picked up the last page of Zhao Xiaohu's self-criticism—he hadn't noticed before that there were words on the back of the letter.

He turned the letter over.

"Squad leader, I can't write any more on the front page, so I'll add this here. When I was writing my self-criticism, Qian Duoduo said that comparing you to a statue was too disrespectful. I thought about it, and it's not quite right. You're not a statue. You're the Vajra in the temple. Statues don't move, but Vajras do. If a Vajra glares at you, you know you're finished. The glare you gave me this morning, I knew I was done for. Salute. Zhao Xiaohu's postscript."

Li Mo placed the letter face down on the table.

Lu Xiao stood to the side, his hands gripping his thighs, his shoulders shaking like an overloaded washing machine.

He turned his face toward the housekeeping inspection standards posted on the wall, pretending to study the scoring rules. The first scoring rule—"The blankets are neatly folded with sharp edges"—those words blurred in his vision because he was suppressing laughter so hard that he was trembling slightly.

The meeting room fell silent for a moment.

A very short, sharp sound escaped from Lu Xiao's nasal cavity.

Li Mo turned his head.

Lu Xiao immediately transformed that breathy sound into a cough.

"Cough cough—my throat really hurts. It's been like this since I woke up this morning. I probably caught a cold."

Li Mo did not speak.

Then Lu Xiao suddenly remembered something. According to military regulations, all self-criticisms must be archived for future reference. In other words, these two self-criticisms would stay in Li Mo's drawer for a full three months. Every morning when he opened the drawer, he would see them.

Lu Xiao thought of this—

"puff--"