Human Relationships and Tian Ji's Horse Racing

Human Relationships... and Tian Ji's Horse Racing

This show of force had thoroughly achieved its intended effect.

Who could possibly be more badass than the Sixth Squad leader?

Fang Huai glanced sideways at Battalion Commander Zhang and saw the same look of envy on his face.

At that moment, Squad Leader Pan also showed his protective side. He walked over to Zhang Yinzhang and patted him on the back.

"Don't worry. You can do it too!"

Battalion Commander Zhang nodded firmly, looking thoroughly encouraged.

Squad Leader Hao, on the other hand, wandered around with the roster in hand, doing nothing at all and not even bothering to show concern for his own recruits.

Damn, that hit him right in the heart!

9999!

"Squads One through Four, parallel bars. Squads Five through Nine, horizontal bar!"

"Fifth Squad, Zhang Ke, prepare for the horizontal bar!"

Hearing that name, Fang Huai could not help turning to look.

This guy should have arrived with him—a fellow Chongqing native who had gone around introducing himself to everyone on the train.

"He can't do it. His physical fitness is terrible." A voice suddenly came from behind him.

"Damn, you're in Seventh Company too?" Fang Huai turned and found Cao Peng standing there.

The nephew of that Detachment Commander Cao from the train.

"Yeah! I'm in Fifth Squad! There are only three of us from Chongqing in Seventh Company! You didn't know I was here? I spotted you first thing this morning!" Cao Peng wore the expression of someone who had been betrayed.

Fang Huai was fairly guarded and was not quite used to such sudden familiarity. Once you entered society, that kind of attitude usually meant either they needed something or wanted to borrow money. So he habitually waved his hand with a helpless expression and said as though he were having a miserable time.

"Sigh, surviving these past two days hasn't been easy. How would I have time to look around? The rules are especially strict."

"Exactly!" As soon as Cao Peng heard him complaining, he was immediately led astray.

"I only found out these past two days just how strict the military is. When the company commander asked about my family, I even mentioned my second uncle, and the squad leader fucking... sigh! If I'd known, I wouldn't have come!"

Fang Huai laughed at that.

This guy was practically a replica of his past self.

"After we're dismissed, go find your uncle at the detachment and see if he can transfer you to an office post. The grassroots companies are tough as hell. Without patience, you won't last there."

"Tch." Cao Peng looked disdainful.

"Why don't you ask your uncle to transfer you to the Guiyang Detachment? If you can stick it out, then I can too!"

What the hell?

Fang Huai's eyes widened. He quickly patted him and told him to keep his voice down.

"Damn, how did you know..."

Cao Peng looked smug. "Before I left, my uncle called me. He said Branch Chief Zhang's nephew was coming with me, surnamed Fang. Your uncle was busy at the time, and it was my uncle who handled your enlistment paperwork! The two of them are old comrades—they served in the same company and are close as hell! Why else would I be talking to you about this?"

For the first time since being reborn, Fang Huai felt like someone had played him.

This guy was truly an expert at pretending to be clueless while knowing everything. They had chatted for hours on the train, and Fang Huai had thought he was just naturally outgoing. Turns out the guy had known it all along.

"Damn it, don't go telling people! I don't want special treatment like you!"

Fang Huai smacked his lips and lowered his guard.

So this guy had only gotten close to him because of their families' connections. It would not do for Fang Huai to act too distant anymore.

Still, something felt off. In his previous life, he had never had a conversation like this.

Maybe the memory had not stuck. There were plenty of trivial matters from the New Recruit Regiment that he had forgotten.

Thinking carefully, most of what he remembered from his time in the military were things that had stirred intense emotions in him. Back then, all he thought about was when he would get to make a phone call so he could hear Huang Jiaojiao's voice. He had even kept one of her headshots and constantly showed it off to his comrades. Whenever his girlfriend came up, he would talk endlessly about her.

He had been fucking stupid.

His youth had been spent being treated like a leek for others to harvest.

"Next, Cao Peng! Get ready!"

"Here!" Cao Peng answered loudly, then patted Fang Huai on the back.

"Wait for me! I can't do a single one. I'll get onto the bar and come right back down!"

Fang Huai: ...

Unexpectedly, he did not come down until more than three minutes later.

This guy had actually been forced into the position too—and even hoisted up into it.

Sure enough, the Fifth Squad leader gave Cao Peng special treatment. He did not let him come down. After Cao Peng jumped up to the bar, the squad leader grabbed his hands directly, wrapped his legs around Cao Peng's waist, and forcibly hung him there for over two minutes until he grimaced in pain.

The Fifth Squad leader even grinned and shouted toward Fang Huai's recruit squad leader from his previous life, "Xiang Zhiyuan! This is your detachment commander's biological nephew. Want to come help train him?"

The recruits all began murmuring in surprise.

A connected recruit!

Second Squad Leader Xiang Zhiyuan chuckled. "Cadre Cao? Train hard! Give him some extra drills tonight! Otherwise, the higher-ups will say we don't know how to take care of people! All these leaders' relatives need more training!"

Watching Xiang Zhiyuan act like that made Fang Huai shudder inwardly.

Back when he'd been in Xiang Zhiyuan's squad, he'd been one of those people "taken care of" in exactly this way.

There was no helping it. Connected recruits usually transferred to headquarters after their recruit period, doing clerical work. Whenever they came down to the grassroots companies, they'd strut around like big shots, throwing their weight around under borrowed authority. They didn't respect squad leaders, either. Sometimes, in order to compete for merits and honors, they'd attach themselves to grassroots companies and take up their slots, which made them particularly disliked.

What was worse, some headquarters soldiers knew quite a bit about each leader's work arrangements and also helped with administrative duties. If they deliberately stirred up trouble, they could easily give the leaders ammunition against you.

For example, there might be a video roll call for all units at 7:30. The notice went out at 7:10, but they'd deliberately drag it out for a few minutes and notify you last. You'd be left scrambling, with no time to react. Your people would rush into the video feed in their dress uniforms right before the deadline, while the other companies were already seated and ready. In the leaders' eyes, that meant your company leadership was incompetent—and you wouldn't even get a chance to defend yourself.

Appeal?

Why did I have to notify you first? I happened to find your name last. What's the problem?

Don't like me? Next time, I'll clip footage of your sentries nodding off now and then and send it to the cadre in charge of reports. Want to bet I will?

The consequences might come later, when grassroots cadres' names were placed before the leaders for promotion in rank or position.

But if you got along with them, then during some emergency Field Exercise or a leadership inspection, they might see the inspection vehicle leaving and give you an early heads-up. You could get the sanitation sorted out beforehand, tell the sentries to straighten up and stand more alert, and call back the veterans and company cadres who were out on excessive leave. Everyone might just dodge a bullet.

They couldn't fabricate something out of thin air, but they could put a magnifying glass over the leaders' gaze when they inspected a unit—or shine a spotlight on its glory.

For all those reasons, grassroots leaders couldn't afford to offend them. They could only fawn over them and tell the veterans, "Ah, damn it, just put up with it. It's all about connections, connections!"

Veterans were blunt by nature, and they felt deeply resentful too. They disliked these people with "special abilities."

So whenever many veterans heard the words "connected recruit," their eyes either filled with disgust or gleamed green with envy.

Unfortunately, Fang Huai only came to understand these truths after he'd been discharged for a long time and taken plenty of beatings from society.

"Damn, my hands are rubbed raw!" Cao Peng returned to Fang Huai's side and complained in a low voice.

"Enough. Hanging on the bar is a good thing. Once you build up calluses, you'll be able to grip it more securely next time." Fang Huai smiled and comforted his fellow townsman, though his eyes remained fixed on the horizontal bar.

Noticing his gaze, Cao Peng bared his teeth in a grin again. "What, are you really planning to go up against Eighth Squad? I just heard your squad leader say you... how many can you do?"

"I don't know. Never tried."

Cao Peng reached out and squeezed his upper arm, then immediately shook his head.

"You won't cut it. You don't even have as much muscle as I do!"

Fang Huai rolled his eyes. "That's fat on you. I just want a lean, streamlined build with explosive strength. I'm not interested in becoming some huge muscle man."

"Hey, look at Chang Kun from our squad. He used to be in a high school sports class. Think he can go toe-to-toe with that muscle man from Eighth Squad?"

Fang Huai froze.

"Chang Kun? Kun as in Kunming? The one from Stephen Chow's Hail the Judge?"

Cao Peng clapped his hands. "That's right!"

Fang Huai couldn't help smiling. "Taken apart, that name... is pretty damn impressive. Sounds better than Battalion Commander Zhang's name."

"How do you take apart the character Chang?" Cao Peng was stunned too.

"You don't need to take apart Chang."

"Kun... Holy shit, brother, you're an old hand! Hahahaha..."

Chang Kun from Fifth Squad did twenty swings in Exercise One.

Sixth Squad and Seventh Squad had also produced several tough guys, each scoring around seventeen or eighteen.

The squad leaders were already overjoyed. This year's batch was fierce!

Some of those who had a bit of influence in their own companies had already begun picking out talent for their units.

They sent the lists back to their companies. If their battalion ended up assigned any of those people, the company cadres would find a way to claim them. The squad leaders also quietly noted down those with special skills.

"Twenty!" A startled cry came from over there, gradually growing louder.

Battalion Commander Zhang went up.

Zhao Bing stood to one side, frowning.

"Twenty-one!"

"Twenty-two!"

At last, it stopped. This guy was clearly familiar with swinging; he'd knocked out twenty-two in one go.

Judging by the situation, he could probably still hang on the bar for a few more.

Fang Huai grew a little nervous too. After thinking it over, he quietly changed positions and moved beside Zhao Bing.

If they lost, at worst it would only be the squad leader losing face.

How much was two taels of face worth, anyway?

But if Fang Huai lost, he'd lose the mission!

If he wanted to safely win both the Parallel Bars and Horizontal Bar events, it would depend on how the system calculated the results.

For the Parallel Bars and Horizontal Bar today, there would be two rounds. The company's scoring method only counted the highest score.

What about the system?

Did it only count the highest score, or did winning either round count?

On the horizontal bar, with swinging pull-ups, he feared no one. That was his specialty; he knew exactly how to get into a smooth rhythm.

But on the parallel bars, he wasn't confident. Even now, he had no idea how strong he really was.

For the parallel bars... it would be best to pin his hopes on the second round and increase his chances of winning. That guy had pushed himself so hard; he definitely wouldn't have any strength left in the second round and wouldn't manage many reps.

If the system counted a win in the second round too, then he could hold back on the parallel bars until the second round and win for sure.

Tian Ji's horse-racing strategy.

"Twenty-seven!!"

"Huh? Don't get down yet! Hey! You obviously could've done two more!"

The Eighth Squad recruits all felt a rather ostentatious sort of regret.

Twenty-seven reps! One person's score was worth more than half a squad's!

And their squad's second-place score was sixteen!

Who else could compare?

They basked in the glory, truly basked in it.

"How many can you do?" Zhao Bing was already rubbing his hands together.

Squad Leader Hao had called him out first, and he was feeling a mountain of pressure.

Fang Huai smiled. "How many can you do?"

Zhao Bing pulled a dejected face. "It's my first time! How would I know?"

"And how would I know?"

Fang Huai's retort left them both speechless.

"Just give it everything you've got. I figure aside from the two of us, it'll depend on whether Jiang Peng can get past ten." Fang Huai patted Zhao Bing, adding a bit more pressure.

After thinking for a moment, he added, "Swinging is easy. Relax your arms, grip the bar tight, and when you come down, don't fight the momentum... You know what momentum is, right?"

Zhao Bing looked helpless. "Bro, I went to high school!... Second year!"

"Haha... good luck."

"Zhao Bing! Get ready for the bar!"

"Yes!"

Hao Chengbin came over at that moment and said to Zhao Bing, "Pull hard!"

Zhao Bing nodded, raised a hand in acknowledgment, and assumed the ready position.

Everyone had realized that this guy was Ninth Squad's king.

"On the bar!" Sixth Squad's leader roared.

Fang Huai hurriedly shouted, "Grip the bar tight first, and start swinging on the very first rep!"

Zhao Bing swung his feet forward and began building momentum.

Pan Zhaohui walked up with his arms folded, looked at Hao Chengbin, and grinned teasingly.

"Old Hao, your squad's top dog still needs the number two guy to teach him?"

Seeing Zhao Bing in the distance and recalling the ability Fang Huai had shown that morning, Hao Chengbin offered Fang Huai some encouragement.

"Who the top dog is hasn't been decided yet, right, Fang Huai?"

In Fang Huai's thirty-four years of life, it was the first time he had received this kind of trust. Though it was all that old bastard Bi's scheming, he still couldn't help getting excited for two seconds.

"Ahem, thank you for the encouragement, Squad Leader! I'll work hard!"

Pan Zhaohui leaned back theatrically and widened his eyes. "Oh? This kid sure knows how to talk!"

Then he remembered something else. "Didn't you faint this morning? You can still do reps?"

Fang Huai stood at attention. "Reporting, Squad Leader! I fainted from hunger this morning. I ate, and I'm fine now!"

Hao Chengbin laughed and patted Fang Huai on the shoulder again.

"If you can still outdo them after fainting, now that's real skill!"

Pan Zhaohui had been smiling too, but his expression immediately soured. With a crooked mouth, he said, "Quit blowing smoke up your ass. If you can do more than twenty, I'll lose a pack of cigarettes to your squad leader."

As he spoke, he felt he might be getting the short end of the stick and turned to Hao Chengbin.

"Old Hao, you taking the bet?"

Hao Chengbin and Fang Huai were both instantly speechless.

He'd already said it out loud, yet he still turned it into a wager. When it came to thick skin, you were number one.

d(￣_￣*)===b

"What are we betting? Cigarettes?" Hao Chengbin asked with his arms folded, clearly interested.

Hao Chengbin didn't ask whether Fang Huai was confident. He considered himself a man who honored his bets.

"Black-legged cigarettes!" Pan Zhaohui seized the chance to up the stakes.

Here, a forty-five-yuan pack of Guiyan (Fu)—cigarettes nicknamed Black-legged cigarettes because their filters were black—was the highest form of courtesy among veteran Guizhou firefighters when receiving guests.

If someone handed you a Black-legged cigarette when you met, it meant they thought fairly highly of you.

Of course, in Guizhou, Black-legged cigarettes also had another meaning.

"Legs" was a Southwestern dialect term referring to the entire leg.

Black-legged cigarettes referred to the kind of cheap black stockings worn at night... the working class's salvation.

The price of buying a pack of Black-legged cigarettes and paying for a session of Black-legged cigarettes wasn't all that different. Their business model was all about volume.

"Old Pan, I've noticed you're getting less and less honest," Hao Chengbin said. The mention of Black-legged cigarettes made even him hesitate a little.

Fang Huai smiled and didn't want to interrupt the two referees' off-court betting.

The Eighth Squad's leader was still a damn squad leader.

This guy looked pretty vindictive.

"Are we betting or not? Weren't you so confident?" Old Pan asked slyly, knowing Hao Chengbin couldn't bear to hurt the rookie's feelings.

"Fine!" Hao Chengbin said impatiently.

As soon as he spoke, Zhao Bing had already come down.

Hao Chengbin had been talking and hadn't noticed. He froze for a moment, then asked Zhao Bing.

"How many?"

Zhao Bing looked miserable as he wiped away his sweat. "Sorry, Squad Leader. My hand slipped... twenty-two."

Pan Zhaohui laughed and mocked, "There are no apologies in life! You already did your best!"

Then, still grinning, he turned to Fang Huai.

"Kid, go! Win Squad Leader Hao's cigarettes for me!"