Chapter 47: He Hoped to Keep Him Here, So He Could Not Leave!
Chapter Forty-Seven: He Hopes to Keep Him Here, So He Cannot Leave!
Instructor Li Tieshu appeared on the second day of military training, neither apologizing nor explaining, as though nothing had transpired the day before. He was as he always had been—his voice hoarse as he bellowed training commands, unsparingly pointing out those whose movements were incorrect or sloppy, listing their numbers and ordering them out of formation to repeat the exercises. His punishments for the boys remained as severe as ever.
He was like an iron tree—impervious to axe or blade, even rain could not seep into him.
The students of Class One groaned inwardly, knowing that Instructor Li had certainly remembered yesterday’s incident. In the days to come, he would surely double his retaliation.
As each wondered what harsh training awaited them, the midday session drew to a close.
“Attention!” Instructor Li barked, his voice raw from days of shouting commands.
The boys of Class One snapped upright, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“At ease,” he called.
Their bodies relaxed slightly, but none dared to truly let go.
Li Tieshu swept his gaze over the entire class, from the shortest, Student Number One, Li Yu, to the tallest, Number Forty, Zhang Quanwei—he missed no face.
Then, he broke into a smile.
His face was thin and dark, and when he smiled, his teeth gleamed startlingly white.
The students were stunned.
They had always called him “Black-Faced God” behind his back, known him for his stern demeanor and unsmiling nature. What had happened today?
“I want to apologize for yesterday,” Li Tieshu said, his voice gentle. Only then did everyone realize he had such a tender side; they had always thought his voice was just loud and rough. “The past few days have been hot, and I caught a bit of a cold, so I had little appetite. I didn’t expect a sudden bout of stomach illness.”
“I lay in the hospital, getting IV drips, and I troubled you all as well. That was my oversight—I should have asked another instructor to take over, or at least to call ‘dismissed’ for you. I’m sorry.”
Li Tieshu bowed deeply to the boys.
“Instructor, don’t do this. We can’t accept it.”
“That’s right. I’ve had acute gastritis before—hurt so much I was rolling in bed, didn’t have the energy to think about anything else.”
“Instructor, just smile more in the future. You look pretty cute when you smile—”
Students are simple creatures: if you’re harsh, they push back; show them a little sudden kindness, and they’re caught off guard.
Li Tieshu nodded, saying, “There may not be another chance. I have to leave.”
A wave of shock swept through the group.
Because Li Tieshu’s training style was strict and his punishments harsh, many boys considered him wild, domineering, a bit of a maniac. Yet when he said he was leaving, they couldn’t accept it.
A sense of loss crept in, as if something within them had been cut away.
“Instructor, why do you have to leave? Is your illness really that serious?”
“Instructor, you can’t go. Our training isn’t finished yet.”
“Instructor, stay! We all want you to stay—”
The boys clamored, voices overlapping in protest.
“This is an order,” Li Tieshu said with a smile. “Just as I taught you on the first day—a soldier’s duty is to obey commands. Orders from above, I have no authority to change. I was supposed to leave today, but I requested extra time to come and say goodbye.”
“I know you might not like me. My voice is too loud, my standards for execution too strict, I make you run twenty laps at the drop of a hat—but that’s exactly what I want you to learn. Some things allow no bargaining; some people allow none either. The sooner you understand this, the better it will be for you.”
“However, we have met, and I am grateful for your cooperation, grateful that you call me ‘instructor.’ Originally, this gift was meant for the end of the military training performance, but now I must give it ahead of schedule.”
Li Tieshu glanced at everyone with slight embarrassment and said, “I’ll teach you a song. I hope you’ll like it. I’ll sing it once, then you’ll follow.”
Li Tieshu cleared his throat, gathered his emotions, and softly sang:
“Cold winds fluttering, leaves falling,
The army is a green flower,
Dear comrade, don’t miss your home,
Don’t miss your mother,
Day and night I call to you, so many words from the heart,
Don’t let tears fill your eyes at parting,
The barracks are our warm home,
Mother, don’t worry.”
Li Tieshu’s voice was earnest, belonging to those who are tone-deaf; yet, whether from a change of mood or true feeling, he sang with emotion. The students listened intently, some quietly humming along.
“This song is called ‘Green Flower in the Army.’ It was the first song I learned after joining the forces. I love it very much. Now, let’s sing it together,” Li Tieshu said, smiling.
“There’s a good girl back home,” Li Tieshu led.
“There’s a good girl back home,” the class responded.
“I often dream of her,” Li Tieshu sang steadily.
“I often dream of her,” the class sang louder, as if venting pent-up emotion.
“Men in the army also have feelings,”
“Men in the army also have feelings,”
“Willing to walk the world with you,”
“Willing to walk the world with you,”
—
Instructor Li Tieshu left.
When the song ended, and he saluted them solemnly, many boys wept aloud.
Only then did they realize how much they respected and cherished this dark-faced, hoarse-voiced, strict, and ever-punishing man.
Cafeteria Three.
Tang Zhong buried his head in his pancake, not touching the fried chicken wing on his plate.
“Second Brother, what’s wrong? No appetite?” Hua Ming asked cheerfully, grabbing one of Tang’s chicken wings and feeding it to himself.
Tang Zhong looked up at him, set down his chopsticks, and said, “The instructor left too unjustly.”
“Yeah,” Liang Tao agreed. “Lu Yifei is such a jerk. Trying to show off and making the instructor take the blame for his mess.”
“That’s not even the most important thing,” Tang Zhong said. “Those chosen to train new students are usually outstanding soldiers from their units. Completing this task well helps their promotion in the army or their future assignments after demobilization.”
“You mean?” Hua Ming frowned.
“From Instructor Li’s words, we know he’s the son of a farmer, no background at home. For someone like him to become a military instructor at Nanda, he must have worked far harder than others. This should have been a good thing for him. But because of a few students fainting, his task was revoked halfway through training.”
“Such an incident leaves a bad mark—probably even noted in his record,” Tang Zhong sighed softly. In Henshan Prison, there was a guard who was a demobilized soldier, once a top hand in his unit, but because of a minor mishap, his record was stained. After demobilization, he couldn’t get a good job, ended up wasting away in prison as a guard. Whether criminal or guard, for a young man, entering prison ruins a life; few take it as their home, like the Boss.
“That serious?” Liang Tao’s brows knitted. “So Instructor Li’s prospects are ruined?”
“Is there any way to keep him here?” Li Yu asked. Though part of the 307 Four, he seldom spoke, never expressing opinions. For him to ask today showed he too hoped Li Tieshu would stay.
Tang Zhong shook his head. “Didn’t Instructor Li just say? It’s a military order. All he can do is obey. We can’t help.”
“So, Second Brother, you want to keep him here?” Hua Ming picked his teeth with his chopsticks.
“What good would it do? I’m no army commander,” Tang Zhong smiled bitterly.
“Hey, you’re not a commander, but your word is worth more than theirs.”
“Nonsense,” Tang Zhong waved his hand and stood up. “Looks like none of you have much appetite. Let’s go back and sleep.”
Liang Tao tossed his chopsticks aside. “Wonder what the new instructor will be like—”
“Go ahead, I need to hit the restroom first,” Hua Ming said, then hurried off toward the cafeteria’s washroom.
At the entrance, he didn’t go in, but slipped around to the garden behind.
He glanced around to make sure no one noticed him, then took out his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and dialed a number.
The call was quickly answered.
“Hua Ming?” came a steady male voice. Though separated by mountains and rivers, Hua Ming could picture him, stern-faced, sitting there.
“Uncle, it’s me,” Hua Ming said, shedding his usual playful manner for a serious expression.
“Hm. What is it?” the man asked, his voice softening.
“Uncle, I need your help,” Hua Ming smiled. “The 135th Regiment training at our school is under Uncle Wei’s command, right? When I came to Mingzhu, you asked me to pay him a visit.”
“That’s right.”
“Can you make a call to him?”
“Why?”
“It’s like this: one of our instructors got caught up in some trouble during training, and the leader in charge revoked his task early. We’re worried this will affect his future—” Hua Ming explained everything in detail.
The other side was silent, not responding.
After a moment, Hua Ming asked, “Uncle, what do you think?”
“You know—if I make this call, what it means?” the man’s voice was steady.
“I know,” Hua Ming sighed softly. Of course he knew. If his uncle made this call, it would mean everything for Li Tieshu. With his uncle’s current status, a call to the main leader of the 135th Regiment for the sake of a low-ranking soldier would make it clear how much their family valued this man—even a fool would know to support and cultivate Li Tieshu from then on.
The rest would go without saying; those in charge would know what to do with Li Tieshu.
“This is Tang Zhong’s idea,” Hua Ming said.
“He told you to come to me?” The man’s tone was unchanged, but the hint of a murderous pressure was unmistakable.
“No,” Hua Ming explained. “He wants to keep the instructor, but he can’t do it. I said I was going to the restroom, snuck out to call you.”
“So—what do you want?” the man asked.
“He hopes to keep him here. He cannot leave,” Hua Ming said firmly. His big, round face, usually comical among friends and gentle with animals, was now serious and resolute.
(P.S.: Old Liu wants your votes—you can’t refuse!)