Dare to shirk responsibility? This adorable little one will tear down your military district!

The morning air carried a chilly smell, mixed with the dust drifting in from afar.

Meng Yaya, with her short legs, moved like a clever wildcat, following the deafening slogans all the way.

Although this three-year-old's small body had short legs, it was agile, and with the stealth skills she had honed in her previous life, she managed to avoid two patrol teams along the way without being discovered.

The further west you go, the bigger the commotion becomes.

"Kill! Kill! Kill!"

The sound was like thunder, shaking the leaves off the trees.

Meng Yaya hid behind a large poplar tree, peeking out half of her head.

Before us lay a massive loess training field, as large as two or three football fields. Hundreds of men in military green training uniforms were tumbling across the field like wolves and tigers.

Some were running with heavy loads on their backs; others were wrestling in the mud. In this era of food and clothing shortages, these soldiers were full of energy and spirit, each one like a little tiger.

There is a high platform directly north of the training ground.

Gu Changfeng stood there.

He wasn't wearing a coat, just a military green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms. He was holding a stopwatch, and his face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, making him even more intimidating than he usually was at home.

"Company Commander! Has your company not eaten? At this rate of speed, if you were on the battlefield, the enemy would riddle you with bullets!"

Gu Changfeng's voice could carry throughout the entire venue without a megaphone, carrying an undeniable air of authority.

The company commander, a large, dark-skinned man, was blushing furiously. He turned and roared at his men, "Did you all hear that?! The commander isn't satisfied! Give it your all! Anyone who drags your feet, I'll kick their ass to pieces!"

Meng Yaya smacked her lips.

The cheapskate dad's demeanor does resemble that of a post-apocalyptic base commander.

It seems that clinging to this powerful figure was worthwhile.

She walked out from behind the tree with her hands behind her back, like an old cadre on inspection.

At this moment, a group of people were gathered on an open space at the edge of the training ground. That was the free-fighting area, the place where these hot-blooded men loved to show off.

"Great! That was a beautiful sweeping leg move!"

"Second Platoon Leader, attack his lower body! Don't chicken out!"

In the middle of the crowd, two strong men were wrestling, their punches landing hard and dust flying everywhere.

Meng Yaya went over, but she was too short to see anything. She looked around and then climbed onto the balance beam bridge next to her, using both her hands and feet.

Now the view is much wider.

On the field, a bald man pinned his opponent to the ground, locking his throat. Cheers erupted from the crowd.

Meng Yaya frowned.

"Too slow."

She muttered to herself.

When that bald guy threw that punch, his armpit was wide open. If this were in the apocalypse, a zombie would have ripped his heart out with one claw.

And that guy who was pinned down, he could have used his knee to push against the bald guy's lower back, but he insisted on arm wrestling to see who could have the strongest.

Is this what special forces are like these days? A bit too much showmanship.

As Meng Yaya looked at it, her hands started to itch.

In her past life, she was a melee-type ability user, and she loved the feeling of a fist hitting flesh. Although this three-year-old body was still soft and limp, she had drunk spiritual spring water and eaten meat these past few days, and her strength had recovered considerably.

I really want to go up there and practice my skills.

"Hey? Where did this little baby come from?" A loud voice suddenly rang in my ears.

Meng Yaya didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Apart from Wang Dapao, whose wrist she had grabbed, no one else had that raspy voice.

Wang Dapao had just finished running five kilometers, covered in sweat, with a white towel around his neck. He had originally come to watch the excitement, but when he looked up, he saw a beautifully sculpted little child squatting on the log bridge.

Wearing an ill-fitting floral-patterned jacket, with her little hands tucked into her sleeves, she stared intently at the fight on the field.

His old-fashioned demeanor made him look just like a high-ranking official on an inspection tour.

"It's you, you big oaf." Meng Yaya turned around and greeted him without any politeness.

The soldiers around were startled.

"Big oaf? Who is this little brat calling? That's Wang Dapao, the regimental commander! He's notoriously hot-tempered!"

Wang Dapao wasn't angry at all; instead, he laughed. He was deeply impressed by the little girl's incredible strength, and his wrist was still aching slightly.

"What's this? Little ancestor, you're here to participate in the martial arts competition too?"

Wang Dapao reached out to pat Meng Yaya's head, but halfway there, he remembered his previous lesson and sheepishly withdrew his hand.

"This is not a place for playing house. There are no eyes for fists and feet, so be careful not to get hurt."

"This looks like a game of make-believe to me," Meng Yaya said, pointing to the two people still arguing on the field.

"That bald guy has a soft spot under his left ribs. If someone had kicked him just now, he would be lying in the infirmary right now. And the one below him, he could have fought back, but he insisted on using brute force. He's as stupid as a pig."

The surrounding air was silent for two seconds.

Several veterans who were watching the commotion were stunned. This little baby was quite arrogant!

"Hey! Whose kid is this? You're barely grown up, what do you know about fighting?" A hot-blooded young soldier, a fellow villager of the bald man, retorted. "Our squad leader was just going easy on them! What do you know!"

Meng Yaya glanced at him and jumped off the log bridge.

It landed silently and steadily.

"I don't understand?" Meng Yaya patted the dust off her trousers. "Why don't you come up here and we'll have a little practice?"

"Hahahahaha!"

A burst of laughter erupted around them, and a group of grown men laughed so hard they were doubled over.

"Hey Li, did you hear that? They want to have a go at you!"

"This girl isn't even as tall as my gun, so don't bully her until she cries, or you'll have to coax her!"

The soldier named Xiao Li, his face flushed and neck red, waved his hand and said, "Go away! I don't hit children! If word gets out, how will I save face?"

At this moment, Gu Changfeng, who was on the other side of the platform, seemed to notice the commotion. He put down his stopwatch, his face grim, and strode over.

The crowd automatically parted to form a path.

"What's going on? What's all the noise about!" Gu Changfeng's voice came down like ice shards.

The soldiers who were just laughing together immediately stood at attention, not daring to breathe.

Only Meng Yaya remained standing with her hands behind her back, looking up at him with her little head tilted back.

"Dad," she called out in a clear, crisp voice.

Gu Changfeng was taken aback, his previously menacing aura instantly dissipating by half. He quickly stepped forward, squatted down, and frowned deeply: "Why are you here? Where's your mother?"

"Mom is still sleeping." Meng Yaya pointed to the field. "I came to watch the fight."

Gu Changfeng had a headache. This place was full of rough men who talked nonsense all the time. What if they corrupted his daughter?

"Nonsense. Go back right now." Gu Changfeng put on a stern face, wanting to scold her, but looking into his daughter's bright, clear eyes, his tone softened involuntarily. "I'll bring you meat buns when I get back from work."

"I don't eat meat buns." Meng Yaya shook her head, pointing with one finger to a row of things not far away. "I want to play with that."

Looking in the direction she was pointing, there was a row of stone locks.

These are old tools used by the military to train arm and core strength. The smallest weighs thirty pounds, while the larger ones weigh fifty or eighty pounds, and the largest weighs a full one hundred pounds. They were prepared for the elite soldiers in the reconnaissance company.

"That's a stone weight, not a toy," Gu Changfeng explained patiently. "It's very heavy; it could break your foot if it hits you."

"I'm not afraid."

Meng Yaya walked past Gu Changfeng with firm little steps.

The surrounding soldiers looked at each other in bewilderment.

"Sir, what's your daughter up to?" Wang Dapao leaned over, a look of anticipation on his face. "She's not going to lift that thirty-pound weight, is she?"

A 30-pound stone weight is an astronomical figure for a three-year-old child. An average three-year-old child would struggle to lift a 5-pound soy sauce bottle.

Gu Changfeng tried to pull her away, but Wang Dapao grabbed his arm: "Hey, Gu, don't rush! I think this girl has some talent, let her give it a try!"

Gu Changfeng shook off Wang Dapao's hand and was about to start cursing when he saw Meng Yaya already standing in front of the row of stone locks.

She first kicked the 30-pound one.

"Too light."

The little girl shook her head, looking disgusted.

Then I looked at the fifty-pound one.

"Still too light."

Everyone: ? ? ?

Is this child still asleep? That's a stone, not cotton!

Finally, Meng Yaya stood at the very edge, in front of the biggest, darkest, and most imposing-looking thing.

A 100-pound stone lock.

It was even covered in a layer of dust, because usually no one touched it except for a few strongmen.

Meng Yaya circled the hundred-pound stone lock once and nodded in satisfaction.

"This will do; it'll be enough to loosen up your muscles."

She cracked her wrists, making a soft snapping sound.

Then, under the gaze of hundreds of eyes, that small, white, tender hand, like a lotus root, grasped the rough stone handle.

"rise!"

A soft, childish murmur.

The massive boulder, which seemed to have taken root in the ground, wobbled and lifted off the ground as if by magic.