Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

When the train arrived at the station, my bones felt like they were about to fall apart.

Outside Shenyang City, a field enclosed by barbed wire and wooden fences is the recruit training camp. Rows of low mud-brick houses stand there, the air filled with the smells of earth, sweat, and stewed cabbage and cornmeal wafting from the kitchen.

As soon as we got off the bus, the assembly whistle blared. The recruits were herded into an open area and lined up in a crooked formation according to their height. An old soldier with a face as black as cast iron stood with his hands behind his back on an earthen platform, his gaze sweeping over the crowd like a knife—this was Instructor "Black-faced Li." We heard that he came from the Korean front, that he was wounded, and that his hands were stained with blood.

He spoke, his voice hoarse as if sanded through sandpaper: "Now that you're here, don't put on airs. Whether you're a dragon coiled up or a tiger crouching, stay put. Three months, and you'll all be trained to be respectable! Understand?"

"Understood!" came the scattered replies.

"Haven't eaten? Speak louder!"

"Understood!!" The shouts finally came in more unison.

Dark-faced Li snorted. Training began immediately: standing at attention, turning left and right. The sun was scorching, and soon some people started to wander off. He didn't scold them, but simply walked behind them and tapped their knees or lower backs with a thin willow stick—the tingling sensation was enough to make them grimace for a long time.

He Yuzhu stood motionless. With his enhanced body, this training was child's play. He kept his eyes level, secretly familiarizing himself with the use of the "reconnaissance map" within the camp, silently marking barracks, training grounds, and sentry posts.

His physical abilities quickly caught the attention of Blackface Li. While others were panting heavily during laps, his breathing was steady; while others trembled after thirty push-ups, he easily surpassed one hundred, his form as precise as if he had been measured. Blackface Li's gaze towards him gradually changed, as if he had discovered a lump of clay-covered ore.

But this kind of attention may not be a good thing.

Among the new recruits was a guy named Sun Ba, about twenty-three or twenty-four years old, tall and burly, with a thuggish look in his eyes. He was originally a veteran who had defected from the Kuomintang, and relying on his connections, he gathered a few fellow villagers to act as a leader among the new recruits.

He Yuzhu's outstanding performance made Sun Ba very unhappy.

The conflict started normally. During a break, Sun Ba wandered over to the water fountain where He Yuzhu's class was drinking water and deliberately knocked over Wang Dazhuang's water bowl.

"Open your eyes!" Wang Dazhuang said, barely containing his anger.

"It's a small space, what's wrong with bumping into someone?" Sun Ba glanced sideways, and several fellow villagers surrounded him from behind.

He Yuzhu pulled Wang Dazhuang back and stepped forward himself: "What's up?"

"I just want to get closer to the 'great contributor'," Sun Ba said sarcastically, emphasizing the words "great contributor." "I heard you're good with throwing knives, how's your marksmanship? I'll bet you a month's allowance, wanna try?"

The surroundings quieted down. Gambling in the military wasn't uncommon, but it was still considered beneath public attention.

He Yuzhu knew he couldn't dodge it. Marksmanship? In his past life, he'd handled rifles a few times in the mess hall, his accuracy was mediocre. In this life, although his physique was strong, his shooting skills hadn't been developed.

"System, redeem [Basic Shooting Specialization (Rifle)]."

[150 Battlefield Points Required for Redemption. Confirm?]

"confirm."

Knowledge flowed in instantly: gun handling, aiming, firing, bullet drop correction... more systematic and refined than what I had learned in my previous life.

"Okay, how do we compete?" He nodded.

"Great!" Sun Ba's eyes lit up. "Fifty-meter chest target, standing position with no support, five bullets, the one with the highest ring wins!"

The firing range quickly filled with people. Several squad leaders stood by with their arms crossed, while Li, with his dark face, strolled over and stood silently on the periphery.

The rifle was an old-fashioned training rifle. Sun Ba went first, his posture practiced, firing five shots in quick succession. He reported the score: 8, 9, 9, 10, 9, a total of 45 rings. This was an outstanding score among the new recruits. He proudly blew on the muzzle and handed the rifle to He Yuzhu.

He Yuzhu caught the gun; it felt heavy. He adjusted his stance according to his knowledge, shoulders relaxed, cheeks pressed together, his gaze passing through the notch in the sights, aiming at the bullseye. The noise gradually faded away.

First shot: 9 rings.

With the second shot, he activated the system's assistance—a faint afterimage extended from the muzzle, subtly adjusting wind drift and sway. Bang! 10 rings.

Third shot: 9 rings.

Fourth shot: 10 rings.

Sun Ba's smug expression froze.

The final shot. He Yuzhu held his breath, his blurry figure pointing slightly below the bullseye. He pulled the trigger.

boom!

Target score: 9 rings.

Total score: 47. Wins by 2 points.

"Good!" the new recruits exclaimed and applauded. Wang Dazhuang blushed with excitement.

Sun Ba's face turned completely dark. He stared at He Yuzhu, his eyes filled with gloom.

He Yuzhu returned the gun and held out his hand: "The prize."

Sun Ba gritted his teeth, pulled out a stack of old coins, and slammed them into his hand.

He Yuzhu put the money in his pocket and turned to leave.

"Wait!" Sun Ba suddenly roared, "Those two bullseyes were just a fluke, weren't they? Do you dare to...?"

"You've already lost the bet," He Yuzhu interrupted him. "Keeping your word is the most basic requirement for a man's dignity. If you can't, don't pretend to be something you're not."

Sun Ba's face flushed red, and he suddenly reached out to grab his collar.

He Yuzhu didn't dodge. The instant the other's fingertips touched his clothes, he grabbed Sun Ba's wrist with his left hand and twisted it outward, stepped his right foot closer, and bent his right arm in a "swinging" motion, using the force to throw the man to the ground!

*Thud!* Sun Ba's face was buried in the mud, his arm twisted behind his back, and he howled in pain.

He Yuzhu pressed one knee against the back of his neck, the force perfectly controlled: "The gunfight just now was a sparring match in the barracks." He leaned down, his voice as cold as iron, "Now, if this were on the battlefield, your neck would already be broken when you reach out."

Sun Ba froze, trembling and afraid to move.

The firing range was deathly silent. The faces of the fellow villagers were pale, and none of them dared to step forward.

"What are you doing!" Li's dark voice broke the silence. He pushed through the crowd, looked at Sun Ba on the ground, and then at He Yuzhu.

"Reporting, Instructor," He Yuzhu stood at attention, "Comrade Sun Ba tried to fight after losing the match, but I stopped him."

Dark-faced Li didn't speak, but kicked Sun Ba: "Get up! Stop pretending to be a dead dog!"

Sun Ba scrambled to his feet, too embarrassed to look up.

Li, his face dark, scanned the entire room, his gaze lingering on He Yuzhu's face for a moment before he spoke in a hoarse voice, "You all saw it? Losing a competition means accepting it, that's the rule! Fighting is against discipline, that's forbidden!" He then changed the subject, "But what He Weiguo did just now wasn't a private fight. It was stopping a violation of discipline. And his last sentence hit the nail on the head."

He walked up to He Yuzhu, his gaze like a nail: "On the battlefield, the enemy doesn't play by the rules or give you a chance. It's a matter of life and death, it can all be over in an instant. If you react too slowly or are too soft-hearted, you'll be the one who dies!"

He turned to all the new recruits and roared, "The training ground is a simulated battlefield! You will be facing fiercer, more ruthless, and better-equipped enemies in the future! If you lack wolf-like spirit and fighting will, go home and take care of your children!"

He immediately gave the order: "He Weiguo!"

"arrive!"

"From today onwards, you are the deputy squad leader of the recruit platoon! Assist with training and keep a close eye on discipline. Anyone who brings that chaotic, unpleasant atmosphere from the streets in here will be dealt with according to the rules!"

"yes!"

Li, his face darkening, glared at Sun Ba: "You're not satisfied? Double your training for the next month! I'll supervise you personally! If there's a next time, you're fired!"

Sun Ba lowered his head and squeezed out a "Yes".

The crowd dispersed, and the training continued. But everyone's gaze towards He Yuzhu had changed: awe, admiration, and fear.

He Yuzhu returned to the team, his expression calm. A prompt flashed in his mind:

[Practical deterrence establishes authority. Serving as deputy squad leader benefits from resource acquisition and information gathering.]

He looked up and gazed north—that was the direction of the Yalu River.

Wolfish nature? Bloodthirstiness?

This is just the beginning.