Zhang Zhi both missed and hated those days.
He had spent nearly ten years at the border. Although conditions had been extremely harsh, the bond between comrades-in-arms had been genuine. Their daily life was full of rough, masculine fun, and he still couldn't help missing it whenever he thought back. He often dreamed at night of every little detail from his time at the border.
Of course, there were times he hated it too—sometimes because comrades had been wounded or killed, and sometimes because of the terrible conditions.
In any case, Zhang Zhi's feelings were complicated!
But after leaving the army and returning home, he found himself completely unaccustomed to civilian life. First, he had no money. When he had been a soldier, the army had provided food and lodging, so he never had to worry about clothing or meals. He hadn't even needed to worry about toilet paper.
Of course, that was an exaggeration. At the border, they used leaves, and when things got desperate, clods of dirt worked too!
But things were different back in his hometown. He had come from the ranks, and after ten years, he had only made it to squad leader. Once discharged, he was nothing special, and even finding a job was difficult. He was getting old, and his parents kept urging him to find a wife.
Finding a wife wasn't a problem. Spending money wasn't a problem either. The problem was that he had no money...!
The other problem was his state of mind, which would now be called postwar psychological syndrome.
He was extremely guarded around other people and constantly felt unsafe. Whenever he encountered a problem, he preferred to solve it with violence. The key was that he had trained his fists until they were exceptionally hard, and he had