Chapter 64: Dandelions and Military Songs

After Fu Ran’s antics, the gazes of the two companies instantly converged on them.

At the same time, their position was right between the two companies, perfectly enveloping them in everyone’s stare.

Bearing the weight of the crowd’s attention, Yan Hao forced himself to stay calm, putting on a bewildered look as if he had been mistaken for someone else.

But his feigned ignorance didn’t make the girl doubt herself.

She kept pointing at him, looking around.

“Fu Ran!”

Instructor Zhou spoke up.

“Do you want to do squats again?”

Everyone cast resentful looks at her.

Seeing their gazes, she realized that causing more trouble would make her a public enemy, so she obediently stepped back into line.

After dealing with Fu Ran, Instructor Zhou turned his interest back to Yan Hao with a grin.

Yan Hao sensed trouble coming.

Sure enough, the next second Instructor Zhou looked at Yuan Hao and shot a meaningful glance toward Yan Hao.

“Instructor Yuan, what’s the name of that Flying Man in your squad?”

“He’s asking for your name.”

Yuan Hao glanced at Yan Hao and said.

“Reporting, I’m called Yan Hao.”

He deliberately emphasized the pronunciation of “Yan” to avoid any awkward misunderstandings.

Even so, Instructor Zhou still laughed.

“Haha, Yan… Hao, right? Good, I’ve got you too—Flying Man, huh? I’ll have your Instructor Yuan make you fly sometime.”

He intentionally dragged out the sounds of “Yan” and “Yuan,” his tone playful.

It was precisely because he didn’t want to stand out that Yan Hao had decided to use the Dao, but it backfired, and now he was the so-called “Flying Man.”

Yan Hao felt a bit down, but the rest of the training went smoothly enough.

They sat down on the field and, under the instructor’s guidance, learned a military song called “One Two Three Four Song.”

Yan Hao was somewhat tone-deaf, but military songs basically only required loud voices and strong emotion.

“That last round wasn’t loud enough. One more time, and we’ll dismiss for today. Let me hear your voices!”

Yuan Hao gave the final task of the day.

Some other squads had already finished singing and started to disperse.

“One, two, three, four, begin.”

He gave a simple start.

Maybe everyone was eager to rest, but this round of singing was especially loud and spirited:

One two three four one two three four like a song

Green barracks, green barracks taught me

Sing till the mountains shake and the earth moves

Sing till flowers bloom and waters rejoice

One, oh one, oh one, oh one

A steel rifle handed to me

Two, oh two, oh two, oh two

Without a word, for the motherland

Three, oh three, three army soldiers find joy in hardship

Everywhere is home

Hey!

Hey hey!

Wherever I am, wherever I am

Wherever I am, there is one two three four

One two three four one two three four the soldier’s song

Dismissed.

Tao Feng wanted to take Yan Hao to the small shop to buy snacks, but Yan Hao, who had stayed up late the night before playing Jump Jump, felt too sleepy.

He told Tao Feng to go alone and walked slowly back to the dorm.

After a quick wash, he lay down on the bed.

The dormitory, converted from a classroom, was a bit odd, but it still had the two air conditioners from the classroom.

With both set to sixty degrees Fahrenheit, Yan Hao even felt a bit cold.

Once he actually lay down, Yan Hao didn’t feel as sleepy anymore.

The unfamiliar environment, the dim light, the noisy chatter of the others in the dorm—it all made him slightly uncomfortable.

Soon, Tao Feng returned with a pack of spicy strips called “Su Xia Che Dan,” eating them as he came to the bed.

He glanced at Yan Hao, who hadn’t fallen asleep yet, and shook the spicy strips.

“Want some?”

Yan Hao shook his head.

“I already brushed my teeth.”

Hearing that, Tao Feng lifted the bag, tilted his head, and downed the rest of the “Che Dan” in one go.

Not long after, Tao Feng also washed up and lay down beside him.

The lights-out bell rang, and the dormitory went dark.

Maybe because there were too many people, the dorm was always filled with faint murmurs.

Yan Hao tossed and turned.

He didn’t know how much time passed, but he still couldn’t sleep.

Perhaps his tossing was disturbing Tao Feng beside him.

Tao Feng lightly tapped him.

“Can’t sleep?”

he whispered, keeping his voice very low.

“A little,” Yan Hao replied softly.

“I can’t sleep either—they’re too noisy.”

Tao Feng got up, searched through his box, and then lay back down.

“Want to listen to music?”

He handed one end of the wired earphones to Yan Hao while secretly showing him a glowing MP3 player under the covers.

Yan Hao didn’t say anything, just took the earphones and put them on.

He rarely listened to music; most of what he heard came from short videos.

After a moment, a song came through the earphones:

Earnestly toss the coin that decides fate

But don’t know where to go

The promise we made when we grew up

Is so clear

The pinky swear I believe

We said we’d travel together

That is now your only persistent willfulness

The song was a bit melancholic.

Hearing the word “pinky swear” in the lyrics, he thought of his past self.

‘Can you really trust a pinky swear? That stuff is probably just a kid’s game. In the end, what meaning or purpose does linking fingers have?’

he asked himself in his mind.

Back then, he had learned from a cartoon and said that things you pinky swear must be done.

He had taken it upon himself to teach Zero how to pinky swear.

After that, whether buying her food or helping her with something, he would always, like an idiot, pinky swear with Zero…

But then he remembered his own unanswered pinky swear and that foolish, self-indulgent phrase—’I won’t lie to you. You can try to trust and… depend on me.’

The song was nearing its end.

“What’s this song?”

Yan Hao turned his head toward Tao Feng and whispered.

“Dandelion’s Promise,” Tao Feng lowered his voice.

“Jay Chou’s,” he added.

‘Dandelion… Promise?’

Yan Hao found the name a bit strange.

Tao Feng stopped the MP3 and softly said,

“What promise do dandelions have? They scatter at the slightest breeze.”

Yan Hao was taken aback.

The atmosphere turned a little odd.

He smiled, turned his head back, looked at the bed board above him, and muttered lightly,

“That’s so depressing?”

Tao Feng also smiled.

“But the dandelion’s flower language includes the meaning of never-ending love.”

He pressed play on the MP3 again, and the song continued from the earphones.

“Dandelions scatter with the wind to all places but then thrive endlessly, so the promise exists everywhere, anytime,” Tao Feng added finally.

Song after song played.

He didn’t know when it was.

Afraid he might accidentally fall asleep, Yan Hao returned the earphones to Tao Feng.

He stared at the bed board above him and gradually drifted off.

So what is the “Dandelion’s Promise”?

Is it a fragility that can’t even withstand a breeze, or a tenacity like wild grass?

Maybe even the person who came up with the song title doesn’t know the answer.

Early morning, the reveille sounded punctually across the campus.

Yan Hao struggled to open his eyes and sat up.

Since middle school, he had formed a conditioned reflex to that damn sound and hated it to the bone.

After a quick wash, morning training began.

As soon as Yan Hao’s squad finished taking roll and counting heads, Fu Ran from the next squad ran in late from the back playground entrance.

“What, saw the Flying Man again?”

Before Fu Ran could explain, Instructor Zhou teased.

“Reporting! Not this time—I overslept!”

Fu Ran declared solemnly.

Her hair was still messy, looking like she had just rolled out of bed.

“Oh, I see. Well, since it’s morning run time, and you’re not awake yet, how about you run an extra two laps alone to wake up?”

“Yes, Instructor!”

Fu Ran turned and started toward the track.

“Don’t rush. Wait until everyone’s running, then you can lap us by two rounds.”

Instructor Zhou gestured ahead.

First Company and Second Company were already running, and Third Company was slowly starting to move.

“Oh, by the way, Instructor Yuan, where’s the Flying Man? Shouldn’t we let him fly?”

Instructor Zhou looked at Yuan Hao again.

Maybe thinking Fu Ran alone wasn’t interesting enough, he added a little spark to the boring morning run.

“Yan Hao!”

“Here!”

“A girl from the neighboring squad wants to run two extra laps with you. Are you willing?!”

Yuan Hao’s voice was still strong and clear.

‘I didn’t run late. Willing my ass,’ Yan Hao thought.

That’s what he thought, but he couldn’t say it.

He sighed inwardly, then answered loudly,

“Yes!”