Not enough Japanese devils to kill? 1.4 billion people volunteer for the Battle of Shanghai.

The wind on the mountaintop gradually stopped.

After the white smoke dissipated, the entire Sheshan Mountain was clearly revealed in the twilight.

At the summit, stood those who had already reached the top.

This second round was originally a competition with more than two thousand elite soldiers participating.

Now, only—

Eight hundred and seventy-two.

The casualty rate was over 60%.

And those who reached the summit.

Many were also injured.

The cruelty of this stage.

Many people actually had some of these expectations.

But the devastation that followed was devastating.

It still exceeded most people's expectations.

At this moment, on the cliff, there is no one except those who have reached the top.

Also standing there were those "fallen" defenders.

They sat on the ground.

Some were still panting.

Some were laughing.

Some were looking at those who had reached the summit with complicated expressions.

Yao Shoude stood on the highest rock.

That rock is the highest point of the entire Sheshan Mountain.

Standing there, you can overlook everything.

He stood there.

Looking at the soldiers who were surrounding them.

Then he smiled.

There's so much in that smile.

There is pride.

I feel relieved.

have--

It's an indescribable feeling, like letting go of something.

"You little rascals."

He spoke.

The sound wasn't loud.

But everyone heard it clearly.

Like a hammer blow, striking the heart:

"Do you know why I threw a grenade down at the very beginning of the selection process?"

No one answered.

Everyone was watching him.

Let him continue.

Yao Shoude's gaze swept across every face.

"Because I've been a soldier for twenty-four years and have seen far too many new recruits—"

He paused:

"Everything is great during training."

"Anything is acceptable during the assessment."

"But once on the battlefield, once you hear real gunfire—"

He spoke each word clearly:

I was completely stunned.

He pointed to the people who had just climbed up the rock face.

Pointing at those—

The person who was so scared by the grenade that he cursed, but no one was stunned.

"What you just did."

"When the grenade fell, some people hid, some lay down, and some cursed."

"But nobody—"

He spoke each word clearly:

"stupid."

"Nobody stands still and waits to be bombed."

"That's right."

He took a deep breath.

He took a deep breath.

Very deep.

Then he continued:

"The battlefield in 1937 was ten thousand times more brutal than this."

"Grenades, shells, airplanes, tanks..."

"These things won't give you time to react."

"You won't have time to discuss tactics."

"I won't give you time—I'm scared."

He paused:

"You guys weren't confused today."

"You've passed my test today."

Lin Yun looked at him.

Look at the light in the old company commander's eyes.

That light was not a reflection of lamplight.

It comes from within the bones.

After fighting for twenty-four years and witnessing too much life and death—

Something that is still burning.

It's that kind of—

Only those who have truly been on the battlefield possess that light.

"Company Commander Yao," she asked softly.

The sound was very soft.

So lightly, as if afraid of disturbing something:

"What was the most devastating battle you ever fought?"

Yao Shoude glanced at her.

There was a three-second silence.

For three seconds, everyone held their breath.

Then, he slowly rolled up the sleeve of his left arm.

There is a long scar on it.

It extends from the wrist all the way to the elbow.

The scar is quite old.

It's old and faded.

But it is still clearly visible.

Like a centipede, crawling on the skin.

Like a—

An indelible mark.

"Southern Xinjiang," he said.

The voice was very calm.

So calm it was as if it were saying, "The weather's nice today."

"1986."

"Reconnaissance soldier, penetrate 30 kilometers behind enemy lines."

"We were discovered, and they chased us for three days and two nights."

"This scar was from a rock when I was climbing over the mountain."

He lowered his sleeves.

The movement was very slow.

It's like caressing a memory:

"Back then, I thought—"

"If I can make it back alive in this life, I will definitely become the toughest instructor."

"So that all future soldiers will be better than me."

At the mountaintop, all was silent.

Those elite soldiers who were just cheering and excited fell silent.

They looked at Yao Shoude.

Looking at this unassuming old soldier.

Look at that scar on his face.

Looking into his calm eyes.

That's the look in the eyes of someone who has actually been on the battlefield.

Not vicious.

It's not hostility.

It is a kind of—

Something that can't be explained.

It was as if he had seen through something.

It's like letting go of something.

like-

We are ready and can go back anytime.

Lei Xiong stepped out from the crowd.

He walked very slowly.

Every step felt heavy.

But he walked very steadily.

He walked up to Yao Shoude.

Stand still.

Two people, facing each other.

They were less than a meter apart.

Lei Xiong looked at him.

Looking at this veteran.

Look at this scar.

Then, he slowly raised his hand.

salute.

The movement was very slow.

But it's very powerful.

"Company Commander Yao." His voice was deep.

Like a stone rolling out of the chest:

"I've remembered what you just said."

"Don't let your subordinates down."

"You didn't release the water."

"You hit very hard."

He paused:

"Thanks."

Yao Shoude looked at him.

Looking at this towering man.

Looking into his bloodshot eyes.

Looking at him—

The soldiers who were just climbing up carrying the stone "corpse".

He smiled.

That smile was awful.

But it's very real.

"Thunder Bear, right?"

"I've heard of you."

"The Tiger Special Operations Brigade of the Army is invincible throughout the entire army."

He patted Lei Xiong on the shoulder.

That hand was very big.

Very powerful.

"When you were climbing up carrying that soldier's 'corpse' just now—"

He paused:

"I almost cried."

He took a deep breath:

"Well done."

"That's fucking awesome."

Zhou Zhenhai also came out.

He was covered in white powder.

There was also a clear mark from a bullet on his left shoulder.

That's from when Lao Han hit me earlier.

But he stood ramrod straight.

It stands as straight as a mast.

He walked up to Yao Shoude.

Stand still.

"Company Commander Yao."

Yao Shoude looked at him:

"Zhou Zhenhai of the Marine Corps?"

"I've heard of it."

"You've got some nerve, kid."

"He dared to lead five men and take on the firepower of two of my squads head-on."

Zhou Zhenhai shook his head.

It was rocking very slowly.

But I am very determined:

"It's not about toughing it out."

He paused.

Look towards the edge of the cliff.

Look in that direction—

The direction Zheng Dahe was lying in:

"Someone risked their life to pave the way for me."

Yao Shoude followed his gaze.

He looked at the young soldier lying on the ground.

Look at that one—

A face that's still smiling.

He was silent for a long time.

Then he nodded.

He tapped very hard.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

He turned back.

Looking at Zhou Zhenhai:

"Remember that soldier."

"Remember today."

"remember--"

He paused:

"Someone is risking their life to pave the way for you."

Zhou Zhenhai nodded:

"I've got it."

I will never forget it.

Yao Shoude turned around.

To everyone.

Facing those elite soldiers who have reached the top.

Facing those "fallen" defenders.

He spoke.

"You little rascals."

"You've passed my test today."

"But the real battlefield is ten thousand times more brutal than this."

"Remember today."

"Remember those who paved the way for you."

"remember--"

He paused, then spoke slowly and deliberately:

"You are not living for yourselves."

"You are doing this for those—"

"Those who can never climb back up live."