"Come in."
Wang Chen had just looked up from the documents on his desk when Meng Liangao pushed the door open and entered.
Wang Chen's eyes flickered. He rose and saluted. "Greetings, sir."
"Sit."
Meng Liangao returned the salute with a genial smile. "No need to be so formal between colleagues."
The Regiment Commander of the Senhai First Mechanized Infantry Regiment sat down opposite Wang Chen, then pulled a cigarette case and lighter from his pocket. "Want one?"
Wang Chen shook his head. "Thank you, sir, but I don't smoke."
"Youth really is wonderful."
Meng Liangao lit a cigarette for himself, took a long, satisfied drag, and did not exhale even a wisp of smoke.
Wang Chen watched with a smile as he finished the cigarette.
Meng Liangao sighed, set down his lighter, and asked, "Staff Officer Wang, you've been with the First Mechanized Infantry Regiment for half a month now. How does it feel? Have you adapted to the conditions here? If you have any difficulties, you can tell me."
Wang Chen answered politely, "Thank you for your concern, sir. Everything is quite good."
Meng Liangao stared blankly at Wang Chen, an inexplicable light flickering in his eyes as though he wanted to pierce straight through the latter's soul.
Wang Chen's smile did not change.
After a moment, Meng Liangao withdrew his gaze and said gravely, "Staff Officer Wang, I'll be direct. What exactly do you want to do?"
Over the course of his life, he had met many young people—nobles, aristocratic clansmen, citizens, and commoners. There had been ordinary people and exceptional geniuses alike. He could be considered well-traveled and well-informed.
Yet Meng Liangao had never encountered a young man like Wang Chen.
At an age brimming with high spirits and hot-blooded passion, he possessed a composure and