Military training? I wasn’t unfamiliar with it. We had it in high school too. But that one was pretty much just for show. I wondered if it would be the same here in college. When we gathered, they organized us into temporary classes of fifty people each—temporary, meaning it was before they officially divided us into majors.

There were five classes in total, four for the guys, about two hundred of us, and one for the girls. They gave out uniforms too. The girls, well, they all looked great, especially with figures like that. Then two buses arrived, and Uncle Liu, who was leading us, announced, “Everyone, run to the military base!”

Just as he finished saying that, the girls happily hopped onto the buses. We protested, calling out this blatant sexism, but then Uncle Liu said, “Anyone willing to cut off that thing below can also get on the bus!”

After that, no one argued anymore. What else could we do? We ran. Man, we ran for three hours straight, almost passing out from exhaustion. Thankfully, we stopped a few times to rest. Brother Xiang was even worse off than me; by the end, Tai Long was practically dragging him along. Tai Long’s stamina was no joke.

Our destination wasn’t exactly a military base—it was more of a large armed forces training unit outside the city in the hills. When we finally got there, it was 9:30 p.m., and we two hundred guys were practically collapsing. Even Uncle Liu was soaked in sweat after running with us. He made a call at the gate, and a group of about ten soldiers came out to greet us, led by a guy with a face full of stubble.

This soldier in front looked to be around thirty. He walked over and shook hands with Uncle Liu, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then Uncle Liu turned to us and said, “You’ll be training your physical strength here for the next month, understand?”

“Yes!” After we answered, Uncle Liu left, and the stubbly-faced soldier yelled at us, “I’m Yue Yue! Your chief instructor! For the next month, I’ll be the one ‘playing’ with you all. Now, everyone gets inside and runs ten laps around the field! Then you can shower and sleep. Morning training starts at five!”

“Chief, we just ran for three hours. We still have to run ten laps?” Tai Long, standing next to me, protested. Yue Yue shot him a glare, whipped out a rubber baton from his waist, and came over, delivering three swift blows to Tai Long’s head. Tai Long blocked two with his hands, but the third strike hit him on the forehead, drawing blood and knocking him to the ground.

Yue Yue then lit a cigarette, took a puff, and said smugly to us, “Anyone who can knock out one of us soldiers here, even just one of us, doesn’t have to train. Or, if all two hundred of you want to gang up on our ten, go for it!”

This guy was insane. If the two hundred of us really attacked, they definitely couldn’t handle us all. But who would dare make a move? Poor Tai Long. It wasn’t that Yue Yue had a bad temper; he didn’t mind a bit of backtalk, usually. But he needed to make an example out of someone, so everyone got in line real quick after that.

Of course, I wasn’t going to stand up for Tai Long—especially since I’d be useless in a fight. I just helped him up, and he clutched his bleeding head. Yue Yue glanced at him, realizing he might’ve gone a bit too hard, and ordered, “Ye Ling Tian, step out. Take this guy to get bandaged. He’s off training for the night; the rest of you, go run!”

Ye Ling Tian, a soldier, stepped out and took Tai Long from me, carrying him off into the base. Yue Yue barked at the rest of us, “What are you staring at? Get moving!”

I felt like a dog by the time we were done. The track was about five hundred meters per lap, so ten laps was brutal. Afterward, we quickly sorted out our dorms. Luckily, they let the four of us stay together, and we all passed out right away, too exhausted to even think.

What followed was a gruelling nightmare of military training. I’m no weakling, but this was beyond ridiculous. Up at five for twenty laps, then breakfast, then standing in military stance until lunch, then ten more laps and more standing afterward. And this was the middle of summer in Chongqing, with temperatures never dropping below 37°C. Meanwhile, the girls’ unit was being coddled by their instructor, who just sat with them under a tree, chatting about life and dreams.

Our instructor was Ye Ling Tian, one for every twenty students. He was a good guy, about our age, and he liked chatting with us when there was downtime. He wasn’t a bad guy at all.

After that first incident, though, Tai Long was still nursing a grudge. Back in high school, he was always the one beating people up; he’d never been on the receiving end like this. On the fifth night, he whispered to us in the dorm, “Brothers, let’s find a way to teach this instructor a lesson. Damn it.”

“Sure, I support you—spiritually!” I, Brother Xiang, and Little Fatty all said in unison. Are you kidding? We’d all seen how strong that guy was. If he got mad, he’d have the whole unit backing him up.

Seeing we weren’t on board, Tai Long clammed up and sulked on his bed. I thought nothing of it and fell asleep. But the next morning, trouble broke out.

When we woke up, Tai Long was nowhere to be found. We figured he was out training early, but when we lined up, there he was, face covered in bruises, tied up. Yue Yue’s head was also wrapped in a bandage. We quickly pieced together what had happened and went to ask Ye Ling Tian.

He told us that Tai Long had actually gone to ambush Yue Yue in the middle of the night and had managed to land a blow that split Yue Yue’s head open. But Yue Yue was no pushover and ended up beating Tai Long down pretty hard. Then Yue made a public example out of Tai Long in front of everyone.

Still, Yue didn’t report it to the school—probably because it would be embarrassing to admit he got beat up by a student. That night, looking at Tai Long all battered, I felt really bad. He’d been my buddy for three years, and our bond wasn’t something superficial. I clenched my teeth and told him, “I’ll avenge you!”

But Tai Long shook his head, saying, “Forget it. I did get to hit him, so what’s the point?”

I snickered inwardly. I still had that little packet of Menma, didn’t I? Let’s see if he still laughs when I use it on him. At that time, I had completely forgotten the Old fortune-teller’s warning: never use the dark arts against others, or it will eventually turn back on you.