Single-Bar Pull-Up Practice

"Ji Baichang, you're not that strong after all. I thought you'd be a lot better."

Xue Daochao had already recovered a little. Standing beside Ji Baichang, he wore a mocking smile.

Compared with the other recruits, the three of them had clearly run pretty fast. But they shouldn't forget the bet they'd made before the race.

The last-place finisher had to wash the first-place finisher's socks.

Lü Qinglong was unquestionably in first place, while the other two had fought fiercely over second.

"Just you wait till next time. I didn't do my best this time."

Ji Baichang was a straightforward guy, so he didn't argue. He accepted the loss.

"Then you'll be washing my socks, Ji Baichang."

Lü Qinglong smiled, blocking the sunlight and casting a huge shadow over Ji Baichang, who was lying on the ground.

"It's just washing socks. What's so hard about that?"

"Wait!"

Ji Baichang suddenly sat bolt upright, staring at Lü Qinglong in clear alarm.

Wash his socks???

His feet could already be considered biological weapons. So what would his socks be like?

Ji Baichang couldn't help picturing himself wearing a gas mask as he washed Lü Qinglong's socks.

"Ah! My God! Xue Daochao, you down-to-earth Daoist, just you wait! Next time we compete, you're definitely the one washing socks!"

Ji Baichang was cursing and grumbling, while the other recruits finally began crossing the finish line one after another.

"Too slow! Hurry up, hurry up!"

The duty officer stood at the finish line, constantly urging them on.

Only when the last recruit crossed the finish line did he finally stop the stopwatch in his hand.

"Good, good. The last one took eighteen minutes and fifty-six seconds. How is that running three kilometers? What's the difference between that and walking three kilometers?"

The last recruit was a slightly chubby young man. He was panting heavily after the run and looked ready to pass out.

"Which squad is he in? Squad leaders, make sure you work on the new recruits' fitness when you get back."

"We're the Army. If you can't even run, what kind of soldier are you?!"

After scolding the recruits in front of him, the duty officer had the squad leaders lead their men away to continue with other training.

It was only five o'clock. Dinner wasn't until five-thirty, so there was still half an hour for some short training exercises.

"Your running times were pretty lousy. Didn't you ever exercise back home? If you didn't, then your fitness isn't going to cut it in the army."

Squad leader Chen Ting shook his head. While the recruits had been running three kilometers, the veteran squad leaders hadn't been idle either. They'd warmed up and run a few laps around the track.

"The New Recruit Company's passing time for an unarmed three-kilometer run is thirteen and a half minutes. Those who didn't pass just now, raise your hands."

After Chen Ting spoke, five people in the squad slowly raised their hands. Among them was Song Si, who was from Guangxi.

"Tsk. Five of you couldn't even pass. The recruits these days are in worse and worse shape."

Chen Ting shook his head again, then led the recruits of First Squad to the exercise area.

They called it an exercise area, but it only had two fairly ordinary pieces of equipment, the kind you could see in public parks: a single bar and parallel bars.

"You all know how to do pull-ups, right? Come over and do ten each, one at a time."

Chen Ting pointed to the single bar in front of the recruits and indicated that Song Si, at the front of the line, should go first.

"Single-bar pull-up practice" just meant pull-ups. The veterans in the army were used to calling them "one-set practice" or "two-set practice." Nobody used the proper term "pull-up."

"Yes, Squad Leader."

Song Si swallowed, stepped under the bar, and looked up at it. Then he jumped and grabbed hold.

"Ah!"

Song Si let out a roar. His stick-thin arms strained with all their might, and his whole body trembled from the effort.

His movements had been smooth and fluid, and he'd looked impressive. Everyone thought he was about to show off his skills, but—

Song Si fell off the bar. With an awkward smile, he looked at Squad Leader Chen Ting.

"S-Squad Leader, I can't pull myself up."

"???"

Ji Baichang, standing closest to Chen Ting, could clearly see the squad leader's face darken at lightning speed.

Seriously! Does this idiot have no sense at all? How could he joke around at a time like this?

Ji Baichang cursed inwardly.

He was afraid they'd all end up eating in the mess hall again because of Song Si.

"Fine. You're a meatball who can't pass the fitness test, and you can't even do a pull-up. You're all damn fat and flabby! Get over there and hang from the bar!"

Even an old soldier like Chen Ting couldn't hold back from cursing when faced with Song Si's terrible performance and cheerful grin.

"This is ridiculous. I'm usually good at picking recruits. How the hell did I end up with a meatball like you?"

"Next! Get up here one by one and do your pull-ups. I want to see what kind of freaks you all are."

After Song Si's outstanding display, the other recruits had little chance of impressing Chen Ting.

Some managed three pull-ups, some five, and the fewest managed two.

"Not one of you passed! Get over there and hang from the bar!"

"Next, Ji Baichang! Let's see what kind of freak you are."

Ji Baichang stepped out when his name was called and walked beneath the bar. Looking straight up, he jumped and grabbed it with both hands.

Unlike Song Si, he made it look easy. His arms flexed, and he began doing pull-ups.

He did quite a few. It wasn't until he'd done twelve that his pace began to slow slightly.

He pushed himself to do five more before releasing the bar and dropping to the ground.

He'd completed seventeen pull-ups, all with perfect form!

"You're passable."

"All right, go stand over there. You don't need to hang from the bar."

Squad Leader Chen Ting nodded. At least the whole squad wasn't made up of meatballs.

A glance to the side revealed Song Si and the other recruits hanging from the empty bar with pained expressions, while Ji Baichang stood there looking proud—a striking contrast.

(Image 1)

"Xue Daochao, Xue Daochao, how about you and I have a contest?"

After jumping down from the bar, Ji Baichang rolled his arms, his gaze full of challenge.

Squad Leader Chen Ting didn't stop them. On the contrary, he seemed to encourage it. In physical training like this, a little competition was what brought people to life.

Otherwise, what was the point of dragging around like a bunch of dead fish?

"Sure. That arm of yours, honed by nineteen years of bachelorhood, really is something."

"All right. Whoever loses has to wash the other guy's clothes for a week."

After speaking, Xue Daochao walked steadily over to the bar, looking relaxed.