Rebirth in the Dragon Kingdom: The Strongest Blade

In a private room on the third floor of the military club, a group of people were having a lively time drinking. Wang Qiang, the deputy company commander of the reconnaissance company of the Jinghua Military Region, started talking after a few drinks.

"Brother Lin Zhe, your comrades..." Wang Qiang sized up Longya and the others, "They have an extraordinary presence. Even in civilian clothes, they can't hide their spirit."

Zhang Liang nodded in agreement: "I saw the simulated shooting just now; they hit the bullseye every time. You can't achieve that kind of marksmanship in less than ten years."

Longya took a swig of beer and chuckled, "Ten years of training is not as good as one trip to the battlefield."

These words were spoken casually, but everyone present understood their weight.

Lin Zhe changed the subject: "Who built this club? It's quite an idea."

"Hey, I know that!" Wang Qiang perked up. "It's Li Haijian, the son of General Li of the Central Military Commission. He's the chairman of Haitian Group, one of the top entrepreneurs in the country."

Zhang Liang added, "General Li grew up in a military compound. Although he didn't join the army, he had a deep affection for it. He said that soldiers' incomes were not high, and the cost of living in Beijing was not low. It was always difficult to find a suitable place for comrades-in-arms to get together—ordinary clubs were too commercial, and guesthouses were too formal. So he built this club."

"This place has a high bar," Wang Qiang said in a low voice. "You need an active duty or retired military officer's ID, and you also need a referral from a member. It's gradually become a gathering place for soldiers. Look downstairs—"

He pointed to the hall: "You can often see generals coming to chat with their old comrades. But everyone knows the rules; they only reminisce here and don't talk about work."

Dragon Claw looked around: "The environment is indeed quite nice."

"The key is that the facilities are complete," Zhang Liang said. "The first floor has a shooting range, a combat arena, and a simulated combat room. Although it's not as professional as the military's facilities, it's enough for the guys to practice. The second floor has a tea room and a chess and card room, so everyone can relax and chat."

"A simulated combat room?" Long Ying adjusted his glasses. "What kind of setup?"

"Basic tactical simulations, like urban warfare and jungle warfare," Wang Qiang scratched his head. "It's definitely not comparable to your special forces, but our regular troops are having a blast."

Lin Zhe and Longya exchanged glances and laughed. Their "Hidden Dragon" simulation combat room was a holographic environment that could simulate any terrain on Earth, with even wind speed and humidity precisely controlled. The equipment here was probably only for entertainment purposes.

Zhang Liang suddenly remembered, "Oh right, I haven't asked the brothers their real names yet. We only gave them their code names—Dragon Fang, Dragon Claw, Dragon Shadow, and Dragon Thorn?"

There was a moment of silence at the dinner table.

Longya remained unfazed: "I'm used to being called by my real name in the army, so it's unfamiliar to me."

"I understand, I understand!" Wang Qiang quickly replied, "Special forces all have code names. Our reconnaissance company has one too. My code name is 'Lynx,' but nobody calls me that usually."

Lin Zhe raised his glass at the opportune moment: "Come on, let's have another one. Thanks for the hospitality, Brother Wang."

"What's the expense! Getting to know a few experts is worth it!" Wang Qiang downed his drink in one gulp.

As they continued drinking and chatting, Lin Zhe learned that Wang Qiang was the deputy company commander of a reconnaissance company and had won two military region competitions. As for his brother-in-law, Zhang Liang, he was a battalion commander in an armored regiment, in charge of dozens of tanks. Both were graduates of military academies and had worked their way up the ranks.

When asked about Lin Zhe and the others, they only said they were in "a certain special forces team," without specifying their unit number. Knowing the rules of the military, Wang Qiang didn't press further.

However, I knew in my heart that they were definitely not ordinary troops.

After the meal, Wang Qiang and Zhang Liang led the group on a tour of the club.

We've checked out the shooting range and taken a look around the simulated combat room. Just as Long Ying predicted, the equipment is basic, with only a simple 2D map on the screen, and a few people are having a great time playing around at the control panel.

"How is it?" Wang Qiang asked with some pride. "This equipment is top-of-the-line in Beijing."

Long Ying nodded politely: "Not bad."

Longya leaned close to Lin Zhe's ear and whispered, "This thing... wasn't it phased out by our base twenty years ago?"

Lin Zhe glared at him.

When we moved to the combat training arena, two shirtless soldiers were fighting fiercely in the center. There were twenty or thirty tables of spectators around, shouting and cheering loudly.

"good!"

"Attack his lower body!"

"Watch out on your right!"

Lin Zhe and his group found a booth and sat down. The two men on stage were in their late twenties, one a Sanda (Chinese kickboxing) practitioner and the other a wrestler, and they were fighting back and forth.

"Interesting." Dragon Claw crossed his arms. "The Sanda fighter's footwork is unsteady, his center of gravity is unstable. The wrestler was too hasty, he missed three times."

Long Ying pushed up his glasses: "In Sanda, the left punch has an opening, and the left shoulder sinks 0.3 seconds before each right leg strike. The wrestling technique is impure, and the power from the waist and back is incorrect."

A man with a crew cut at the next table turned around, his brow furrowed. "Brothers," he said, "the two on stage were among the top ten in last year's military region combat competition. Aren't you being a bit too hasty with your words?"

Longya grinned: "To be honest, a martial arts contest is a contest, and a real battle is a real battle."

The man's face darkened. At that moment, the outcome was decided on the stage—the wrestler executed a takedown, and both men rolled to the ground, the referee counting down.

Applause erupted from the audience.

The man with the crew cut stood up: "Since you all see things so clearly, why don't you go up and give it a try? Talking without doing is no fun."

The soldier was straightforward, and several people around him looked over with dissatisfaction in their eyes.

Wang Qiang quickly tried to smooth things over: "Brother Li, these are my friends from the special forces, they're just chatting..."

"Special forces?" Brother Li sized up Lin Zhe and his group. "Which special forces unit? I served in the military region's special operations brigade for eight years, how come I've never seen you guys before?"

Longya and the others laughed.

I came here to relax, and this atmosphere actually made me feel more comfortable – that's how it is in the military, if you're not convinced, you fight, and strength speaks for itself.

"Just for fun?" Longya looked at Lin Zhe.

Lin Zhe nodded: "Be mindful of your actions."

"Alright!" Longya stretched his neck. "I've been feeling unwell these past few days, so I'll loosen up my muscles."

The two players had just stepped off the stage when Longya took off his shoes and went barefoot onto the stage. He slowly took off his shirt and threw it to Longzhao below the stage.

When his upper body was completely exposed, the entire training ground suddenly fell silent.

His skin was bronze, his muscles taut and well-defined. But what stood out most were his scars—a ten-centimeter knife scar on his left shoulder, a circular gunshot wound on his right rib, and crisscrossing shrapnel cuts and burns on his back…

Gasps of astonishment rose and fell from the audience.

It's normal for soldiers to have training injuries in peacetime. But gunshot wounds? Knife wounds? Everyone understands what that means—they've truly been on the battlefield, they've truly risked their lives.

Brother Li, who had invited Longya to the stage, was stunned. He stared at the scars for a few seconds, and his expression became serious.

"Brother..." he said in a much more polite tone, "I was a bit harsh just now, please don't mind."

Longya waved his hand: "It's nothing, just came up and had some fun."

Brother Li took off his jacket, revealing a similarly muscular physique, but with far fewer scars, only a few old training injuries.

The two stood still, and the referee explained the rules—stop when you've made a point, and don't attack vital organs.

"start!"

Brother Li was very cautious, assuming a stance as he moved around Dragon Fang. Dragon Fang stood still, his hands hanging at his sides, very relaxed.

Five seconds, ten seconds.

Brother Li moved—a quick, probing straight punch.

Longya slightly turned his body, his fist grazing his chin. He didn't retaliate.

He followed with a low sweeping kick, and Dragon Fang raised his knee to block. He still didn't retaliate.

From below the stage, Dragon Claw laughed: "Dragon Fang is here as a sparring partner."

Long Ying nodded: "That guy practices a modified version of military boxing. His basics are good, but it's too formulaic. Nobody plays by the rules on the battlefield."

On stage, Brother Li launched a dozen or so attacks, using punches, kicks, elbows, and knees. Longya, like an eel, narrowly dodged each attack, never retaliating.

After playing for a minute, Brother Li stopped, panting, and said, "Brother, this isn't fun."

Longya laughed: "Then be careful."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the dragon's tooth moved.

Without any fancy moves, he stepped forward, moving so fast that Brother Li didn't even have time to react. By the time he tried to block, Longya's hand was already an inch from his throat.

The entire room fell silent.

Brother Li's forehead was covered in sweat. In that instant, he hadn't seen how Longya came over at all.

"I lost." He readily admitted defeat, "I'm completely convinced."

Applause erupted from the audience, this time with respect.

Longya patted him on the shoulder: "You have a good foundation, but you're too rigid in your approach. When it really comes down to it, do whatever works best."

"I've learned a lot," Brother Li said, clasping his hands in a fist salute.

When Longya stepped down, the way Zhang Liang and Wang Qiang looked at him changed.

"Brother Longya, with your skills... what unit are you from?" Wang Qiang couldn't help but ask.

Longya put on his clothes and smiled, "I'm a soldier."

In the corner of the training ground, several veteran soldiers were watching this area.

"Old Zhao, look at those young men." The gray-haired old man took a sip of tea. "They're not simple."

The man called "Old Zhao" was Lieutenant General Zhao Gang, the political commissar of the Jinghua Military Region. He squinted at Lin Zhe's retreating figure and suddenly smiled.

"I was wondering why he looked familiar... Old Li, look at the one in the middle."

The other elderly man at the table—a lieutenant general staff officer from the Central Military Commission—paused for a moment when he saw Lin Zhe's profile.

"It's him?"

"That's him." Zhao Gang smiled meaningfully. "A twenty-six-year-old major general. I didn't expect to run into him here."

The staff officer put down his teacup: "Those guys over there... must be members of 'Hidden Dragon.' No wonder they're so skilled."

"Should we go say hello?"

"No need," the staff officer shook his head. "It's a gathering of young people; we old folks shouldn't get involved. But..."

He whispered a few words to the guard behind him. The guard nodded and quickly walked towards the service desk.

A few minutes later, the club manager personally brought over a tray with fine wine and delicate snacks.

"Gentlemen, the magistrate over there invited you," the manager said respectfully.

Lin Zhe looked in that direction and his eyes met Zhao Gang's. He paused for a moment, then stood up and saluted from a distance.

Zhao Gang smiled and waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit down.

"Political Commissar Zhao?" Zhang Liang saw him too and quickly stood up.

Zhao Gang made a downward pressing gesture from a distance.

Wang Qiang lowered his voice: "Brother Lin Zhe, do you know Political Commissar Zhao?"

"I've met him a few times," Lin Zhe said casually.

Zhang Liang knew perfectly well—how many times had they met? His uncle was the military region commander, and Zhao Gang was the political commissar; Lin Zhe's claim of "meeting a few times" was probably an understatement.

At this moment, Dragon Claw stood up: "I'd like to stretch my legs too. Who wants to?"

After witnessing Longya's skills, no one in the audience responded for a moment. Everyone knew the difference in skill level.

A young man in his early twenties stood up, looking embarrassed, and said, "Brother, I'm not very good at it. Could you give me some pointers?"

"Sure, come on up." Dragon Claw was very easygoing.

The two went on stage, and Longzhao acted as their sparring partner, letting the young man demonstrate all the techniques he knew, and then giving him some simple pointers on practical combat points. The young man thanked him repeatedly as he left the stage.

Then Long Ying and Long Ci also went on stage for a while. They were very restrained, just stretching their muscles and giving pointers to the younger generation.

Those watching from below the stage could all see that these people were all experts, clearly from the same unit, with similar styles, and all were practical fighters.

"Brother Lin Zhe, your unit..." Wang Qiang finally couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Is it on a special mission?"

Lin Zhe smiled, neither admitting nor denying, and raised his glass to clink with Wang Qiang's.

A commotion suddenly erupted at the entrance to the training ground. Several young men in physical training uniforms walked in, led by a tall, imposing major in his thirties with an air of arrogance between his brows.

"Hey, this is getting lively." The major glanced at the arena. "Old Wang, another one of those stomping newbies?"

Li, who had just fought Longya, frowned: "Chen Feng, watch your words."

Major Chen Feng smiled, his gaze falling on Lin Zhe's table, especially lingering on Long Ya: "I heard some experts have arrived? From the special forces? Which unit? Tell me, maybe I know them."

His words were clearly provocative.

Wang Qiang stood up: "Major Chen, these are my friends, they're here to have some fun."

"Play?" Chen Feng walked to the edge of the arena and looked at Long Ci on the stage. At this moment, Long Ci was sparring with a young officer. His movements were relaxed and casual, and it was completely in a guiding manner.

"This is so boring." Chen Feng took off his jacket, revealing his muscular upper body. "Dude, come down and rest for a bit, I'll play with you."

Dragon Thorn stopped his movements and looked at Lin Zhe in the stands.

Lin Zhe shook his head slightly.

Long Ci understood and said to the young officer in front of him, "That's enough for today. You could have made that spinning elbow a little faster."

He was about to step down after he finished speaking.

"What, you're scared?" Chen Feng stood blocking the edge of the ring, his tone provocative. "Is this all the special forces are capable of?"

The training ground fell silent. Everyone was looking this way.

Chen Feng was known at the club for his fighting prowess and arrogance. As a combat instructor in the military region's special operations brigade, he had won the military region's combat competition three times, giving him the right to be arrogant.

But given the situation today, it's clear to anyone with eyes that Lin Zhe and his group are not simple people; Chen Feng has kicked a hornet's nest.

Long Ci stood on the stage, looking at Chen Feng, and suddenly laughed: "You really want to play?"

"Of course." Chen Feng grinned. "According to military regulations, fight freely and don't hold back."

"Okay." Long Ci nodded. "Then come up here."

Chen Feng leaped onto the ring, cracking his wrists and ankles.

Offstage, Zhang Liang whispered to Lin Zhe, "Chen Feng is arrogant, but he's definitely a good fighter. Last year in the military region's competition, he took on three top reconnaissance soldiers single-handedly."

Lin Zhe didn't speak, he just looked at the stage.

The referee briefly explained the rules and was about to call "start" when Chen Feng suddenly said, "Wait, how about adding a prize?"

Dragon Thorn raised an eyebrow: "What's the prize?"

"Whoever loses, from now on, when you see the other at the club, you have to call them 'bro.'" Chen Feng stared at the Dragon Spurs. "Dare you?"

A low murmur rippled through the training ground. The stakes weren't high, but the insult was immense. They were all soldiers; who would willingly bow down and call someone "brother"?

Long Ci smiled and looked at Lin Zhe below the stage.

Lin Zhe nodded slightly.

"Okay," Longci said. "Then remember this—when you see me in the future, call me Brother Longci."

"Arrogant!" Chen Feng's face darkened.

The referee shouted, "Start!"

Chen Feng moved instantly. He certainly had the right to be arrogant—fast speed, great strength, and he launched a fierce attack with a combination of punches right from the start, a purely practical fighting style without any fancy moves.

Long Ci remained calm and composed, his feet moving lightly, each time narrowly avoiding the punches. After three moves, Chen Feng spun around and delivered a powerful back kick.

This time, he didn't dodge the dragon spike; he raised his arm to block.

With a muffled thud, the two men simultaneously took half a step back.

Surprise flashed in Chen Feng's eyes—his kick could break a five-centimeter-thick wooden board, yet the other party had actually taken it head-on.

"It's my turn," said Dragon Spurs.

The next second, Chen Feng only felt a blur before his eyes, and Long Ci was already in front of him. He instinctively covered his head to defend himself, but a sharp pain shot through his abdomen—Long Ci had delivered a heavy low sweep kick to the outside of his thigh.

Chen Feng staggered, and before he could regain his footing, Long Ci's second move came. It wasn't a punch or a kick, but a close-range elbow strike that stopped an inch in front of Chen Feng's chest.

It stopped; it didn't hit the target properly.

But Chen Feng could sense that if that elbow strike landed, he would break at least three of his ribs.

The entire room fell silent.

Two moves, just two moves.

Chen Feng's face flushed red, and he gritted his teeth. Suddenly, he performed a diving takedown—his signature move, which he had used to defeat countless opponents in the competition.

But Long Ci seemed to have anticipated this, executing the three movements in one fluid motion: sidestep, raise his knee, and press down. Before Chen Feng could even complete his takedown, Long Ci pinned him down on the ring with his knee.

"Shall we continue?" Long Ci asked calmly.

Chen Feng struggled twice, but didn't budge. He then realized that the two were simply not in the same league.

"I... lost." He squeezed out the three words through gritted teeth.

Long Ci released him, stood up, and clapped his hands.

Chen Feng got up, his face flushed and paled in turns. He looked at Long Ci, then at Lin Zhe and the others below the stage, and suddenly stood at attention, giving a military salute.

"Dragon Thorn Bro!" he shouted, surprisingly single, "I give up!"

Applause rang out in the training field, this time for Chen Feng—his ability to accept defeat was a testament to his military spirit.

Long Ci returned the greeting and jumped off the stage.

Chen Feng followed them down to Lin Zhe's table, his attitude completely changed: "Brothers, I'm sorry about earlier, that's just my temper, I meant no harm."

Lin Zhe stood up and shook hands with him: "It's nothing, just a friendly spar."

"Which unit are you from?" Chen Feng couldn't hold back any longer. "My skill level is considered top-notch even in the military region's special operations brigade, but I couldn't last three moves against the Dragon Thorn brothers... You guys..."

Longya patted him on the shoulder: "Practice hard, we'll spar again when we have the chance."

There was still no answer.

Chen Feng understood the rules and stopped asking questions, but his eyes were filled with awe as he looked at Lin Zhe and the others.

In the corner, Zhao Gang and his staff officer exchanged a smile.

"Old Li, did you see that?" Zhao Gang said, "This is a real king of soldiers. That kid Chen Feng has been arrogant for so many years, but today he's finally met someone who can put him in his place."

The staff officer nodded: "How could soldiers who emerged from the Hidden Dragons be bad? However..."

He paused, then lowered his voice: "I heard they just finished a major mission and are on vacation. Let them relax and don't disturb them."

"That's natural."

The atmosphere on the training field became lively again. Although Chen Feng was arrogant, he was straightforward and accepted defeat easily. He ended up chatting with Long Ya and the others quite congenially. After all, he was a special operations brigade instructor, and he spoke knowledgeably about training and tactics. The occasional pointers from Long Ya and the others were always enlightening for him.

"So that's how this action is used!"

"Holy crap, this tactical approach... our instructors never taught us this!"

"Brother Longying, your analysis is spot on!"

Seeing Chen Feng humbly seeking guidance like a primary school student, Wang Qiang and Zhang Liang both laughed. Only true strength could make this arrogant man bow his head.

After playing for another hour or so, Lin Zhe checked the time, stood up, and said, "That's about enough. I have things to do tomorrow, so let's call it a day."

Wang Qiang quickly said, "I'll take you."

"No need, we're driving now." Lin Zhe shook hands with each of them. "We had a lot of fun today, thank you for your hospitality."

"We should thank you for your guidance!" Chen Feng said earnestly. "Brothers, come again soon! It's on me!"

It was already 10 p.m. when I left the club. The night breeze in Beijing was cool and felt nice on my face.

"Today was quite interesting." Longya stretched. "It's been a long time since I've relaxed like this."

Dragon Claw nodded: "That Chen Feng has a good foundation, but his approach is too orthodox. There aren't that many rules on the battlefield."

"Soldiers in peacetime are all like this," Long Ying said.

Lin Zhe smiled and said, "Shall we go back to the base?"

"Let's go back to base." Longya waved his hand. "You spend some time with your younger siblings these few days. The rest of us will do our own thing."

After watching Longya and the other three drive away, Lin Zhe got into his own car. He didn't start the engine immediately, but leaned back in his seat, reflecting on the day's events.

It was an ordinary gathering of soldiers, an ordinary exchange of skills, but this kind of ordinary liveliness was the most precious rest for these people who spent years walking on the edge of life and death.

My phone vibrated; it was a message from Zhang Xueying: "What time will you be back?"

Lin Zhe replied: "Right away."

The car slowly drove out of the parking lot and merged into the traffic flow of Beijing at night.

In the rearview mirror, the sign for the military club gradually disappeared into the distance. But Lin Zhe knew that he would come back to this place again.

Because here, he can see the most ordinary yet most endearing group of people in this country—the soldiers who safeguard peace but are always ready for war.

And he and his "Hidden Dragon" are meant to be the strongest support for these people.