A whirlwind marriage with a high-ranking official: Lights out, don't force me to take the initi

"Treat it as you."

Su Feng chuckled and raised his chin at Lu Weidong.

"Then let's not hold back anymore, come on."

He took off his coat and tossed it onto the snow, revealing his strong upper body and chiseled features, exuding the aura of a black panther that had found its prey.

Lu Weidong then turned around and saw Su Feng's expression and actions.

I know he's serious about wanting to practice.

Without thinking, he took off his coat.

He was left with only a close-fitting vest covering his lean and muscular body, his muscles bulging and heaving, his chest muscles thick and full of power ready to be unleashed at any moment.

The veins on his arms bulged slightly, and he stood there like a fully drawn bow.

He exhaled a puff of white breath, stretched his neck, and his gaze fell on the person opposite him.

The two men's upper bodies were covered by only a thin layer, but their bodies seemed to be burning with an invisible heat, like two walking flames.

They stared at each other, their eyes like knives, ready to be drawn.

"Chief of Staff Lu, you're injured, don't blame me." He stretched his neck, a slight smile on his lips.

"You can give it a try."

Lu Weidong flexed his hands, his knuckles cracking.

The two of them took a step forward at the same time.

There was no probing, no maneuvering.

Su Feng threw a straight punch at Lu Weidong's face, fast and fierce.

Lu Weidong turned his head to dodge, and then elbowed him in the ribs.

Su Feng twisted his waist to dodge, and then threw a backhand hook punch.

Lu Weidong raised his hand to block, his fist slamming into the forearm with a dull thud.

The two exerted force simultaneously, pressing together.

Su Feng had broad shoulders and great strength, so he pressed forward.

Lu Weidong, with his stable stance, took a half-step back to dissipate the force, and then suddenly exerted his strength, pushing him outward.

Su Feng took two steps back, steadied himself, and smiled.

"good."

"snort"

Lu Weidong shook his arm; his forearm was burning with pain from the block.

Su Feng pounced again, a high sweep aimed at Lu Weidong's head, whistling through the air.

Lu Weidong crouched down to dodge, and then swept his supporting leg with a low sweep.

Su Feng jumped up to dodge, but the fist was already in front of him when he landed.

Lu Weidong parried, then launched a series of counterattacks, including an elbow strike and a knee strike.

Su Feng accepted them one by one, took two steps back, and then rushed back.

The snow was trampled into a mess, and sweat was mixed together, making it impossible to tell whose it was.

...

The contest lasted for nearly ten minutes.

Lu Weidong returned to the steps, clutching his ribs. He had just been punched hard in the side, and even breathing hurt.

But Su Feng was in an even worse state. He had just been knocked out by Lu Weidong's heavy punch and was lying in the snow, unable to recover for a long time.

Lu Weidong walked slowly to the edge of the steps.

"Hmm." With a muffled groan, he slowly sat down.

Su Feng had recovered. He sat up, brushed the snow off his body, and stood up again.

He then picked up the two people's clothes from the ground and walked towards Lu Weidong.

She raised her hand and tossed the clothes to Lu Weidong.

"Good job, you've improved."

"fart!"

Lu Weidong lowered his head, not looking at him, and took the clothes and wrapped them around his body.

"How come you've been promoted to an official position after just one year, and you're still so good at fighting?" Su Feng sat down next to him, his tone slightly teasing.

Lu Weidong glanced at him but ignored him.

I was really annoyed with him.

The rivalry between Su Feng and Lu Weidong did not stem from Ye Wenxi.

They met at military school, and ever since then they have been competing against each other in various subjects.

Five kilometers, obstacle course, hand-to-hand combat, shooting—it's either you come in first or I come in second.

After graduation, one went to an infantry regiment, and the other went to a special forces unit.

I thought that being far away would keep things quiet, but every time we met during training camps or competitions, we still ended up fighting tooth and nail.

But Su Feng always managed to outmaneuver him.

Lu Weidong was annoyed by this person at school. This person was always challenging him, constantly provoking him, and always hanging around in front of him.

What's most infuriating is that this person always has something to say whether he wins or loses; his mouth never stops.

Lu Weidong took a deep breath; his ribs still hurt.

Su Feng leaned back, resting his arm on his knee, a smug smile playing on his lips.

"Is it because your wife is too strong-willed, putting pressure on Chief of Staff Lu?"

Sure enough, Lu Weidong rolled his eyes as soon as he said that.

Why is this person so eager whether they win or lose?

This tactic always works; every time Ye Wenxi is mentioned to provoke Lu Weidong, it has a remarkable effect.

Su Feng felt a secret sense of satisfaction seeing how he had angered Lu Weidong again.

"Su Feng..."

Lu Weidong first called out his name.

"Are you interested in us, husband and wife?"

Lu Weidong suddenly blurted out a "tiger's thud," his tone ambiguous as to whether he was joking or serious.

"what?"

Su Feng blinked, momentarily stunned that Lu Weidong would say such absurd things.

"Me, interested in you? Are you fucking crazy?!" Su Feng's voice was an octave higher than before.

Su Feng stood up, turned to leave, but then turned back and added a sentence.

"Idiot."

He stood up from the steps and walked towards the direction where the special forces were doing their morning exercises.

For the first time ever, Lu Weidong didn't take his eyes off his back and stared at him for a couple more seconds.

After leaving the training field, Su Feng felt far more annoyed than physically.

The pain from the punches he took would subside after a while, but Lu Weidong's words were like a thorn stuck in his skin, impossible to remove.

When Lu Weidong argues with him, he curses, talks back, and they exchange a few words before going their separate ways.

But I wouldn't say something like what I'm saying today.

Su Feng became increasingly agitated, and his steps quickened, making a "crunch crunch" sound on the snow.

When he arrived at the assembly point where the special forces were doing their drills, his face was as black as soot from the bottom of a pot.

As the team members gradually gathered on the playground, they slowed down involuntarily when they saw his face in the distance.

The veteran team members exchanged glances: Oh no, Section Chief Su is acting strangely today.

Once everyone was present, Su Feng stood at the front of the line, scanning the crowd. No one dared to meet his gaze.

"Today's training volume is doubled."

Someone below gasped.

"The last five..." he paused, "are sparring with me."

"Yes!" The loud response was deafening.

The crowd was completely silent, but their hearts were racing.

Lu Weidong helped this group of special forces soldiers start their "wonderful" day.

-----------------

Yunnan-Vietnam border, Hill No. 3.

The field medical station was set up in a shady spot halfway up the mountain, with several military tents crammed between shell craters, their canvases still splattered with dried blood.

The air was filled with the smells of disinfectant, gunpowder, and decay—the unique odor of the front lines.

Ding Jiahe rushed out of the tent carrying a first-aid kit and ran towards the stretcher that had just been carried down.

Her heart clenched when she saw the posture of that body from afar.

The person is no longer able to live.

But her body's instincts still drove her to run towards the soldier.

She knelt down, her hands already pressed against her chest.

"Prepare for CPR, single-person method, compression rate of over 100 times per minute, depth of 5 centimeters..."

Before she finished speaking, she began counting.

1, 2, 3, 4... Press. Blow air. Press. Blow air.

second round.

Sweat dripped down his brow bone and landed on the still-wet bloodstain.

"Dr. Ding, your pupils are dilated," someone nearby said.

Ding Jiahe did not look up and continued pressing.

She was like a wound-up machine, tireless and never stopping, yet her eyes and movements were highly focused, as if the whole world consisted only of her body.

"Dr. Ding, the standard resuscitation time limit has been exceeded, he's not going to make it..." A field nurse's voice trembled.

Ding Jiahe ignored him. With her arms straight and her upper body straining, she continued to press down, one stroke at a time.

"Ding Jiahe!!"

The captain strode over, his voice so loud it drowned out the distant cannon fire.

Ding Jiahe seemed not to hear, her hand still moving.

"Ding Jiahe, there are still so many wounded waiting, you need to be rational!"

She didn't stop.

"Ding Jiahe, I order you to stop the resuscitation efforts and immediately move on to the next wounded patient!"

Her hand froze.

It hangs in mid-air, maintaining a downward posture.

Someone walked over and unfolded a white cloth.

The cloth slowly fell, covering the young face and the chest, where there were marks from where she had just pressed.

She knelt on the spot, looking at the exposed hand.

There was still dirt under his fingernails, and his fingertips were slightly curled, as if he was trying to grab something.