Chapter 20: Honor

Being a soldier is hard; being a special forces soldier is harder—hard and dangerous, as cruel drug lords, mercenaries who live by the blade, or disasters like floods and earthquakes can claim your life at any moment.

Do they not know this? But why do they still do it? Because of a soldier’s faith, a soldier’s honor, a soldier’s duty.

As long as the people need them, everything they do is worth it.

This is true. Because of Old Doghead Gao, Guo Jing knows more than most—he knows many soldiers have died in their twenties.

A soldier’s honor is guarding the ten thousand lights behind them even when in danger; every warrior of Wolf’s Fang is worthy of respect.

Xiao Zhuang felt ashamed for his earlier insults toward Wolf’s Fang—he could study peacefully, pursue his dream of becoming a director.

Without those soldiers guarding him, all of this would be nothing but moonlight on water, reflections in a mirror.

Everyone in the dorm lowered their heads. Guo Jing walked in, and upon seeing him, all immediately saluted:

“Sergeant, sir.”

Guo Jing waved his hand and said, “Old Cannon is right—Wolf’s Fang soldiers stand on the most dangerous frontlines, and many have fallen.”

“Some died in military operations, some in flood and disaster relief, some accidentally during training.”

Guo Jing told the men in the dorm everything he knew.

Some were only in their early twenties, never even dated a girl.

Some died, and their elderly fathers asked for half their son’s ashes—they had no other family, didn’t want to be alone.

Some single-handedly drew two hundred enemies away to cover their unit’s retreat, then were surrounded and killed.

Such stories are countless; everyone in the room was in tears. At that moment, they understood: Wolf’s Fang is worthy of reverence.

Guo Jing looked around the room and said firmly, “This is Wolf’s Fang—whenever the people need them, they step forward immediately, risking their lives to protect them.”

“Why do enemies call them Wolf’s Fang? Not just because they’re accurate and ruthless—but because their brothers fear no death for the people, dare to die for the people.”

After speaking, Guo Jing wiped his tears. Why, when telling these stories, could he not stop them from flowing?

“Sergeant, I want to join Wolf’s Fang Special Forces, fight alongside them.”

Xiao Zhuang said firmly, wiping his tears—this moment, he understood what Wolf’s Fang’s honor truly meant.

“Sergeant, I want to join the Wolf’s Fang selection too.”

Xiwa shouted loudly.

Seeing the dorm’s rising enthusiasm, Guo Jing quickly stopped them: “Everyone, quiet down—joining Wolf’s Fang isn’t easy.”

“Your current strength is unlikely to pass selection—even Old Cannon couldn’t. Entering Wolf’s Fang requires more than just solid military skills.”

“You also need cultural knowledge. Before basic training, there’s a written exam. Xiwa, I remember you only have junior high education—I’ll tutor you personally.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.”

Xiwa said happily.

In the original, Xiwa was eliminated because his junior high education meant he couldn’t handle high school chemistry—a real pity.

Looking at the men in the dorm, Guo Jing thought to himself: “These soldiers are good. They fear no hardship, no fatigue, for the honor of the nation and the people’s interests.”

He would get them all into Wolf’s Fang. He said sternly to them: “From now on, I’ll train you harder based on your conditions—it’ll be brutal.”

“Don’t worry, Sergeant. I’ve got no other skills, but I don’t fear death or hardship—train us as hard as you want.”

Xiwa immediately declared.

“Don’t worry, Sergeant—I’ll definitely hold out.”

Xiao Zhuang immediately pledged.

Back in the dorm, Guo Jing realized every day in the camp brought him gains—Zhang Chu’an was the same.

He and Sergeant Chen trained the new recruits; he taught Chen the breathing methods he knew. Though he wouldn’t let him cultivate Qi, Chen’s strength surged.

Chen couldn’t help but ask: “This breathing method boosted my strength—your own power must be substantial too.”

Zhang Chu’an smiled: “It’s your natural talent. It wouldn’t work for me.”

Chen cut him off: “Don’t lie to me—you’re strong. I even feel you’re stronger than Guo Jing.”

He didn’t understand why Zhang Chu’an hid it so well. If Zhang hadn’t taught him, he’d never have guessed he was extraordinary.

“I want to fight you.”

Chen looked at Zhang Chu’an with burning combat intent.

“I refuse.”

“What, you’re scared?”

“No—it’s just that beating you gives me no benefit.”

Zhang Chu’an said reluctantly.

“Then what benefit do you want?”

Chen asked curiously—he was highly attracted to sparring with a master like Zhang Chu’an.

He assumed Zhang wanted something trivial—like washing socks or fetching meals in the mess hall.

“A house. That’s the minimum price to fight me.”

Zhang Chu’an said slowly.

Chen stared at him in disbelief—you actually dare to ask for a house?

“If you won’t agree, I’ll change it—cover my meals for a month. That’s not too much.”

Zhang Chu’an said as if he were suffering a great loss.

Chen thought he could barely accept this and was about to agree—when Guo Jing returned and stopped him:

“Sergeant Chen, if you cover his meals, he’ll order dishes daily from five-star hotels.”

Hearing Guo Jing, Chen wanted to tell Zhang Chu’an: How much of a bastard are you, doing this?

Seeing Chen’s stunned expression, Guo Jing immediately suggested: “Sergeant Chen, go beat him. Military matters are settled within the military—he can’t extort a house from you.”

Zhang Chu’an immediately got angry: “Why do all of you act like this? You don’t want to fight us, yet you force it.”

“Come on, Zhang Chu’an—show us how strong you are. If you beat me senseless, I won’t tell anyone—and I’ll wash your socks this month.”

Chen declared loudly.

“Fine. Since you insist, I accept.”

Zhang Chu’an said coldly.

Chen leapt into the air and kicked out—Zhang Chu’an dodged sideways, then as Chen hung helplessly mid-air, he kicked Chen straight in the stomach.

Chen was hit like a truck had slammed into him—he flew two or three meters through the air.

Zhang Chu’an now seemed frenzied, shouting: “You all just want to fight, right? Come on, fight! Why waste words? Just fight already!”

He had suppressed too long—he hadn’t had a proper, full-out fight in ages. Though he hadn’t used Golden Light Spell or other techniques.

But he still felt exhilarated.

“Uh, Zhang Chu’an… Chen seems unable to get up.”

Guo Jing felt he had to remind Zhang Chu’an.

Seeing Chen lying on the ground, unable to rise, Zhang Chu’an panicked—shit, he’d really messed up.