Special Forces: From the very beginning, I can upgrade the entry

From that day onward,
seemed to be wound up like a machine under high tension. A charged atmosphere of relentless discipline swept through the entire unit.
As night fell, figures could still be seen at the combat training ground, relentlessly pounding the sandbags.
Zhuang Yan, Zheng Sanpao, and Chen Guotao were among them. The surfaces of the sandbags had already been stained with blood. Their hands were covered in fresh wounds—wounds that would split open again the next day, no matter how many times they healed.
“Enough, stop! Take a break!”
Chen Xiwa, carrying a canteen, intercepted Zhuang Yan, who was dripping with sweat.
Only then did Zhuang Yan pause, wiping his brow before taking the canteen.
“What happened to your hands?”
Chen Xiwa immediately noticed the raw injuries on Zhuang Yan’s fists.
“It’s nothing.”
Zhuang Yan dismissed it casually.
“Come on, let’s go to the infirmary.”
Chen Xiwa tried to pull him away, but Zhuang Yan shook him off.
“Once the calluses form, it won’t hurt anymore.”
He took a sip from the canteen, his tone indifferent. This statement, however, triggered an unexpectedly strong reaction from Chen Xiwa.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re acting like a completely different person!”
“I just don’t want him to feel bad.”
“Who?”
Chen Xiwa frowned in confusion.
“Miao Lian.”
Zhuang Yan’s expression darkened.
“Miao Lian? No matter what, he’s the longest-serving company commander in our regiment.”
“And then this Captain Gao shows up—such a snake! He came straight for the jugular, putting our commander on the spot.”
“
, they say? Fought together in war? Look at him now—he’s forgotten that he started in a reconnaissance company himself.”
The more Zhuang Yan spoke, the angrier he became, taking larger gulps of water.
“What can we do about it?”
“He’s Special Forces—he’s a King of Soldiers.”
Chen Xiwa sighed, sounding resigned.
“King of Soldiers? More like grandson of soldiers.”
“I don’t care—if he hurt Miao Lian, he’s got to pay for it. Just watch, I’ll take that beret off his head.”
Zhuang Yan declared furiously.
Nearby, Chen Guotao had already stopped training. Holding his own canteen, he approached and glanced at Zhuang Yan.
“Quite the bold claim.”
“If it were Lin Yi saying it, I’d believe it.”
“But you? Still too green.”
“Chen Platoon Leader!”
Zhuang Yan bristled.
“I refuse to believe we can’t beat him!”
“And what will you fight him with?”
“Your mouth?”
“Honestly, five hundred push-ups that day weren’t enough.”
“Less talk—more training.”
Chen Guotao barked, tossing his canteen aside and returning to the sandbags.
Zhuang Yan shoved his canteen into Chen Xiwa’s hands and turned to follow, resuming his training with renewed determination. All of this unfolded under the watchful eyes of Miao Lian and Lin Yi. The two officers exchanged glances and nodded approvingly.
“Not bad.”
“If this continues, we’ll finally be able to hold our heads high in front of our reconnaissance comrades.”
“But Xiao Zhuang is still too reckless. How many times have I told him—stop talking big? That mouth of his is going to land him in real trouble one day.”
Miao Lian observed from above, his voice low.
“Miao Lian.”
Lin Yi chuckled, unconcerned.
“He’s just a kid—he’s never experienced
loss.”
“A man only truly matures after going through hardship.”
“He’s eighteen—there’s plenty of time. No need to rush.”
Miao Lian fell silent for a moment, glancing at Lin Yi.
If one ignored Lin Yi’s extraordinary skills, he was also just an eighteen-year-old young man, in the prime of his youth. And yet, compared to Xiao Zhuang, he was worlds apart. Orphaned at a young age, raised by different families, navigating the forests of Xiangxi on his own, yet still excelling in academics—he had topped the province in his entrance exams and secured admission to Yanjing University.
Once he joined the military, he had adapted seamlessly, surpassing veteran soldiers in shooting, combat, and tactics. He was leagues ahead. Even Miao Lian himself had to admit—Lin Yi’s knowledge of military strategy now surpassed his own.
“Miao Lian.”
“The provincial High School Equivalency Exams are coming up soon.”
“Should we arrange for Zheng Sanpao, Chen Xiwa, and the others to familiarise themselves with the testing site in advance?”
“These veterans have been out of the academic world for years—it wouldn’t hurt to give them a refresher.”
Lin Yi suggested.
“Good idea.”
“I’ll personally submit a report to the regiment. You’ll lead the team.”
Miao Lian agreed readily. If these veterans could pass their exams and earn their diplomas, they would qualify for training at the Non-Commissioned Officer School.
For Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company, this was a critical opportunity. Of course, many of these soldiers would be reassigned upon graduation. But even if only a fraction returned, the company’s strength would grow exponentially.
“Hmm.”
Lin Yi nodded, also looking forward to the mission. After half a year in the military, he was eager to see the world beyond the barracks.
……………………………………………………………………………………………
As night deepened, the soldiers gradually dispersed. After washing up, they retreated to their bunks, drifting into slumber. Zhuang Yan lay in his bed, his hands wrapped in gauze. With his flashlight illuminating a notebook, he carefully penned down line after line of text.
“Xiao Ying… I still haven’t heard from you. I miss you so much…”
As his thoughts wandered, his mind drifted back to the first time he had met that little girl—still young, naïve, and bright-eyed.
Xiao Ying.
The embodiment of all that was pure and beautiful in his heart. His forever dream girl. They had both grown up as children of the military’s performing arts troupe, living in the same residential compound. Raised in broken homes, they had developed rebellious streaks, yet they had never stopped dreaming of the future. And in every dream of his, the female lead was always Xiao Ying. She had given him his favourite book, The Collected Plays of Shakespeare—stolen straight from her father’s bookshelf.
She had wanted him to study hard, to become an artist when he grew up. And so, he had dreamed of entering the Drama Academy. He had worked toward that goal—and he had achieved it. But after joining the army, he had come to a startling realisation.
Without Xiao Ying, he would never have wanted to be an artist.
Six months had passed—new recruit training, Old Cannon, Lin Yi, Xiwa, Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company, Miao Lian, Platoon Leader Chen…
The military had gradually consumed his focus. And now, he wanted to tell Xiao Ying everything. There was so much he wanted to say.
Just as he was lost in thought, a whistle sounded through the barracks. Snapping out of his daze, Zhuang Yan quickly switched off his flashlight and closed his notebook—sealing away his thoughts for another night.