The Olive Branch

Moving forward, they passed through an unnamed county seat. The open-topped van paused only briefly before pulling away, resuming its slow, leisurely crawl along the mountain road. The vehicle was filled with the scents of all kinds of breakfast foods: soy milk and fried crullers, plain congee and fried dough cakes, oversized steamed buns, white bread, and sorghum bread... Those eating deliberately smacked their lips with loud, exaggerated smacks, declaring how fragrant it was. Those drinking refused to pull away from their cups without letting out an overdramatic "aaah," going so far as to make drinking milk feel like savoring expensive Maotai liquor. Shen Yixiu sat with her iron arms crossed over her chest, her head turned to glare poutingly out the window. This bunch was teasing her on purpose. From their initial timid caution to their current growing boldness, it was by all rights outrageous behavior. Yet somehow, she felt relaxed... far more relaxed and at ease than when she was surrounded by family and relatives who walked on eggshells to cater to her feelings. In years past, her aunt's family had often come over to spend New Year's Eve together. Yet because of Shen Yixiu's presence, they had never dared set out a proper reunion feast. Shen Yixiu was grateful and touched by their care, but deep down, she hated it. She wanted to see her family sitting around the table with relaxed hearts, enjoying a reunion dinner, chatting about the year's harvest and prospects. She loved hearing her grandfather boast half-drunkenly about how peerless his combat power had been in his youth, and she wanted nothing more than to sit by their side at the table, keeping them company as they talked. "*Burp.*" A sudden, hearty belch shattered Rusty Sister's reverie. Han Qingyu tore off half of an unfinished cruller, bumped the back of his hand against Shen Yixiu's shoulder, and once she turned around, said with utter seriousness, "Here, just so you can see what it looks like." "..." This was beyond enduring. Shen Yixiu gave him a look, said nothing, and simply bent down in silence. From beneath the rearmost row of seats, she hauled out her blade. Her dead iron war blade was custom-made. Its blade was considerably broader and heavier than the standard-issue dead iron straight swords of the Coalition, looking at first glance somewhat like a heavy straw-chopper. The hilt was not conspicuously large, but it was longer than standard, allowing her to grip it with both hands... to swing and chop with full force. *Clang-clatter.* The blade clinked against iron. Remaining seated, Shen Yixiu planted the blade upright beside her feet, resting one hand upon it. Still without uttering a single word, she turned her head back toward the window. Instantly, total silence descended upon the van. No more lip-smacking. No more exaggerated "aaahs." Everyone hung their heads and began taking tiny, demure nibbles, suddenly eating like a litter of rodents. Shen Yixiu wanted to laugh again, struggling to hold it in. Only after a good long while did someone finally speak up. "Uh, truth be told," Liu Shiheng said gravely from behind the steering wheel, "we are now... thoroughly and completely lost." "..." In their desperate bid to flee the scene, this bunch had driven haphazardly for half the day, only to finally lose themselves entirely. "So what do we do now? Try to figure out our position and find a way back?" Once He Tangtang finished asking, everyone's gaze shifted in unison toward Han Qingyu. Having suddenly become the person who always had to make the decisions, Han Qingyu had adapted fairly quickly. His guiding principle had always been simple and clear: no matter what, never mistreat yourself or your own people. "Find a way to confirm our location, then contact the base to ask for the address of the nearest medical station," Han Qingyu said after a moment's thought. "We're all 'severely injured,' after all... Let's go lie down for a few days." It was said that the medical stations on the Azure sighting frontline were absolute paradise. ...It turned out to be true. The medical station Han Qingyu and the others eventually contacted was nestled behind a scenic mountain reserve. Disguised as a "Senior Leadership Sanatorium," its facilities were first-rate and its scale was far from small. Moreover, there really were pretty frontline nurses. And so, living in blissful indulgence, they stayed for more than ten days. Only when the field training remedial period for Regiment 425 came to a close, and the base called again and again urging them to return to prepare for the recruits' departure from camp, did the group reluctantly take their leave. "Man, I really want to get injured again." When He Tangtang said this, he was riding in a vehicle belonging to a nearby regional squad. This regional squad bore the designation 979, belonging to Regiment 433 of the Ninth Army. In the previous year's overall army rankings, it had placed twelfth. It so happened that they were sending personnel back to the combat training base to attend the recruitment briefing to scout new blood. And so, along the way—only taking a detour of some two hundred kilometers—they had picked the group up. The vice-captain leading the escort had taken exceptional care of everyone throughout the journey. Yet strictly speaking, the one he showed the most enthusiasm toward was not Han Qingyu, but He Tangtang. "How should I put it? We never even thought of making a move on you... Every squad in the army knows full well you're bound for an Eraser unit. There's no way we could compete with them." Upon arriving and stepping out of the vehicle, the vice-captain explained to Han Qingyu with a grin. Then he waved toward He Tangtang, who had already walked a short distance ahead, calling out with a laugh, "Tang, seriously, think it over carefully when you get back! Come join Squad 979... You've seen our squad's designated medical station. Come to us, and I guarantee you'll get injured every single day!" The group burst into laughter, turning back to thank the vice-captain of Squad 979 and wave their goodbyes. "You know, just looking at this vice-captain tells you how great the atmosphere in Squad 979 must be." "Yeah, anyone who joins would definitely have a blast." "Mhm, plus you'd get to see those pretty nurse girls all the time." "Haha." Shen Yixiu had already gotten off at the entrance and headed home on her own. The remaining boys walked along, laughing and chatting as they went. This lively scene of laughter fell straight into the eyes of Regimental Commander Li, Lao Jian, and the others, who had been waiting for a long time. Standing behind a second-floor window, the leaders of Regiment 425 watched with hearts full of bitterness. "What, are those bastards really not going to leave us even a single B+?" Regimental Commander Li muttered meekly before sighing deeply. "*Sigh.*" With the recruits' departure from camp drawing near, the entire combat training base had succumbed to this exact atmosphere: all sorts of poaching and fierce defending of turf, both openly and in the shadows... Regiments eyed one another with suspicion, and even squads within the same regiment remained locked in mutual vigilance and competition. In truth, Regiment 425 had already accepted that they could not keep Han Qingyu. Their purpose in coming here was merely to say a few heartfelt words on the strength of the bond they had built, hoping that one day, when he eventually formed his own squad, he might return to Regiment 425 to do so. "What else can we do? It's our own fault for not having a single squad ranked in the top twenty," the Regimental Chief of Staff said with a wry smile. "Let's try to work on this one... and see if we can get him to stay." The Chief of Staff was naturally referring to He Tangtang. Having spoken, he turned to look at Lao Jian. "The problem is, I'm not that close with him either," Lao Jian said, looking troubled. "How long have I even been serving as acting head instructor? And during that time, they were away for over ten days." "..." Regimental Commander Li froze for a moment. "Then what do we do? Do we still have to ask Milla to step in?" Lao Jian replied, "If anyone's going, you go. I'm certainly not." The Chief of Staff added, "I don't have the face to go either." With the recruits' departure imminent, the truth could no longer be kept under wraps. Milla already knew that her appointment as squad leader had been rejected. Furthermore, among the specific reasons for the rejection, one line stated plainly: *Internal feedback from the regiment deemed it unsuitable; organizational review confirmed this finding.* Nobody had caught sight of her for the past two days. Just as they were speaking, a regimental staff officer behind them suddenly pointed out the window and shouted, "Commander, look!" Regimental Commander Li and the others looked up. In an instant, they felt like a backup suitor catching sight of his goddess on a date with another man—stung to the core and thoroughly wretched. Just beneath a nearby street corner, an officer with the rank of captain stood by the roadside, warmly and gently calling out to Han Qingyu. As far as the rank of captain went, there was nothing extraordinary about it; Lao Jian was a captain too, and he was even a squad leader, whereas this man was not. However, pinned at an angle upon the left chest of that captain, who was not even a squad leader, was a square, golden badge bearing an inscription. He was someone from Golden Eraser.