It was supposed to be a casual game, but the Long March dungeon brought tears to everyone's eye

"you……"

The old squad leader's one arm hung in mid-air, trying to push the pot.

As a result, Hawkeye took half a step forward, and his body got stuck right in the path that the old sergeant was trying to push the pot back.

"Squad leader, you also taught us that on the battlefield, there is no such thing as yielding to others."

"The battlefield is right here in this pot. We've already withdrawn, and it's your turn to take over."

"But……"

"There are no 'buts'." Ruan Ruan stepped forward, her voice stubborn.

"Squad leader, if you don't eat it, it's a waste."

"If you fall, who will lead us out of this muddy place? Who will take Little Bean and the others home?"

These words startled the old squad leader.

He subconsciously turned around and looked at Xiaodouzi and Xiaohu beside him.

Xiao Hu and the others then realized that Kuang Ge and the others had been acting so "dramatically" just now, all to get the old squad leader to eat meat.

"Class monitor..." Xiao Hu stepped forward and called out softly, "Just eat it."

"Crazy Bro is too weak to take the blame, Hawkeye Bro's eyesight is failing, and if even you can't see the road clearly..."

Xiao Hu didn't finish his lame excuse, but everyone understood what he meant.

They were all trying to give the old squad leader a way out.

The old sergeant looked at the soldiers surrounding him, especially Crazy Brother, Eagle Eye, and Soft Soft.

Once upon a time, when these three greenhorn recruits first entered the snow-capped mountains, their eyes were filled with innocent naiveté and fear of death.

Back then, he was the mother hen, spreading his wings to protect these ignorant little chicks.

But now, he saw a familiar light in the eyes of these young people.

He had seen that kind of light in Old Li's eyes, in the eyes of the sacrificed company commander, and in the eyes of countless comrades who fell on the road.

That is the light that allows one to give up their own life without hesitation so that those around them can live.

His chicks have grown strong wings.

They're so tough they'd turn the tables on him, even if it meant using deception or coercion, they'd still protect his old bones from the wind and rain.

The old squad leader's one arm, which had been raised in mid-air, hesitated, hesitated, and finally fell limply to the ground.

"You lot..."

The old squad leader sighed deeply, his voice seeming to come from deep within his chest, repeating himself in a muttered tone.

"You silly kid..."

The same words, but with different meanings.

Heartache, compromise, fear of letting down—it's all so complex and hard to understand.

Kuang Ge felt the force of resistance in his hand disappear.

He breathed a sigh of relief and quickly brought the pot to the old squad leader, his tone softening slightly.

"Squad leader, if you don't drink it now, it'll taste even worse when it gets cold..."

The old squad leader didn't say anything more.

He slowly stretched out his rough, large hand, picked up the chipped wooden spoon, and scooped up a spoonful of paste mixed with fish bits.

They ate very, very slowly.

The old squad leader closed his eyes and slowly chewed the first bite.

The fish was already cooked until it was soft and melted in your mouth, requiring almost no chewing.

But he seemed to be savoring the most precious delicacy in the world, or performing a solemn ceremony.

With each swallow, Kuang Ge could see the old squad leader's Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty, as if he were swallowing not fish, but heavy stones.

What's in this pot, to the old squad leader, isn't fish at all.

This is the blood that three new recruits saved from their teeth; it is the hope they gained by overdrawing their life force.

This meal was probably the most unpalatable "feast" he had ever eaten in his life.

Then the second bite, the third bite.

The old squad leader ate with utmost care, even scraping off the last bit of soup stuck to his beard with his fingers and sucking it clean from his mouth.

He kept going until the pot was empty, and even the last drop of soup was poured into his mouth with his head tilted back.

"Clang!"

The pot was put down, and the wooden spoon made a crisp sound as it landed in the empty pot.

The old squad leader lowered his head and used the back of his one-armed hand to wipe his face hard.

No one could tell whether he was wiping away sweat from the heat or tears welling up in his eyes.

When he looked up again, his face had regained its usual sternness.

"Alright! Why are you all staring at me? Is there something on my face?"

"Since you're all full, don't just lie there like a corpse!"

"Especially you three idiots!" The old squad leader pointed at Crazy Brother, Eagle Eye, and Softie, his tone fierce.

"If anyone falls behind tomorrow, I'm going to beat him to death with this stick!"

"Go to sleep, all of you! Now! Immediately!"

"yes!"

This time, the three of them answered extra loudly.

……

It was late at night, and the temperature on the grass was extremely high.

Night is a cold that can freeze you to the bone.

To maintain their body temperature, everyone huddled back-to-back on the slightly drier mound, as usual.

Kuang Ge is in charge of keeping watch for the second half of the night; the campfire just went out because it ran out of fuel.

He placed the cooking pot in the windy spot and huddled behind it to minimize heat loss.

Although Old Li's belt was still tied to the pot, providing him with a boost to his willpower.

But the hunger churning in his stomach made his body react unusually realistically.

I'm so...hungry...

Kuang Ge grabbed a handful of wet grass roots and stuffed them into his mouth, chewing until his mouth was full of bitterness, trying to fool his empty stomach.

Just then, in the dim moonlight, a figure moved not far away.

The old squad leader quietly rose up, leaning against the outermost rock.

He seemed to be holding something in his hand, and in the pale moonlight, he was carefully examining it.

Kuang Ge narrowed his eyes and quietly glanced over without making a sound.

In the old squad leader's hand, he held the embroidery needle that had just performed a great service.

The needle had been charred black by fire and worn smooth by stone, bent into a rough hook shape.

To any modern angler, this is just junk, just a piece of scrap wire.

But the old squad leader's movements were as careful as if he were holding a rare medal.

He wiped the not-so-sharp hook tip with the corner of his shirt again and again, then unbuttoned his collar.

The collar of his shirt was already worn out, but he chose the most conspicuous and solemn spot for it.

The old squad leader's fingers were a bit clumsy; it took him several attempts to finally hook the bent fishhook onto his collar.

After fastening it, he gently pressed it with his thumb, as if afraid it would fall off, or as if wanting to feel its firmness.

The moonlight shone down, illuminating his deeply lined face and the dark fishhook.

In that instant, the simple fishhook seemed to flash with a golden light.

Seeing this, Kuang Ge felt a lump in his throat and quickly buried his head in his knees, not daring to make a sound.

It was nearly midnight in the live stream room, but the number of viewers had increased instead of decreased.

The comments section, which had been discussing the "fish feast" from earlier, suddenly became eerily quiet.

Only when the close-up shot of the fishhook clipped to the collar appeared did a comment slowly drift by.

"Brothers, that fishhook... I think I see a golden medal in it."