Chapter 3: Interpersonal Relationships

Chapter 3: Interpersonal Relationships

Xu Qiao found her dormitory by memory, which happened to be the room for Communications Company, Squad Two.

This year, Squad Two had more than one new recruit, but she was the only one who hadn't fully integrated yet.

At this hour, everyone had gone to training, and the room was empty. A glance revealed perfectly folded quilts and sheets without a single crease—her bed had even been made to the same immaculate standard.

Her previous self would never have done such things; the only possibility was that someone else had neatly arranged her bed.

Xu Qiao slowly approached the table and placed the fruits and snacks that her mother had packed from her backpack on it.

She wasn’t trying to curry favor but understood too well the significance of comrades-in-arms. She knew these people might never become friends, but they very well might be the ones who would cover her from bullets in the future.

In her past life, she had similar experiences. She was once a pampered heiress who enlisted with nothing but passion.

But upon entering the barracks, she was drenched in cold water—struggling to adapt not only to the life and training but also finding herself out of sync with others’ habits, even getting into conflicts.

It was only after a mission failed due to her mistake, and her life was saved by comrades, that she realized no matter how different they were, these people were the closest to her.

Though these were peaceful times now, and the uniform looked the same, she could disregard her old friends but could not ignore her comrades. The interpersonal relationships she had failed to cultivate before now needed careful mending.

So she shifted the topic smoothly, saying, “I brought some food from home. Let’s all share.”

The atmosphere in the dorm eased considerably, yet Xu Qiao found it hard to join the conversation, whether in the present or using her memories; it seemed they had never had this kind of casual chat before.

The consequences of her unauthorized absence were naturally hers to bear.

This was not Xu Qiao’s first night in this strange world, but it was her first night in this military camp.

Neither her past experience nor her memories had anything to draw upon here.

So there was no reference from her original experience; everything had to start anew.

As soon as she finished speaking, the squad leader sensed something amiss and looked at Xu Qiao with surprise—because the two had never spoken so calmly before.

But whether she was Xu Qiao or not, since she occupied this body, she was Xu Qiao now, for better or worse, and had to accept it.

Yet in her memory, there was nothing related to this, and sitting on a small stool, she watched others, not daring to sit on the bed.

Regardless of past or present, food has always been a catalyst for bonding among Chinese people.

Xu Qiao didn’t know how to truly integrate with them and sighed, quietly sitting aside to listen to their casual chatter.

Suddenly fully awake, she asked, “Why are you all up so early?”

Finally biting her lip, disregarding their gazes, she asked, “Squad leader, could you teach me…”

The military was unlike anywhere else; no matter the reason or explanation, discipline was absolute and without exception.

The squad leader ignored her surprise, only smiling slightly without further explanation. From the commander, she had already witnessed what a reckless fool Xu Qiao had been before. No explanation would convince anyone now.

Not even giving her time to adapt to this military culture so different from her previous life, she was already facing punishment.

Now, she could only slowly influence others with sincerity. If she truly put in the effort, they would feel it, and eventually, no explanations would be needed—their attitudes toward her would change.

Perhaps because she had slept so deeply, she was abruptly awakened by the reveille.

In her past life, there had been similar training, but the standards for neatness were far simpler then. Especially in wartime, even new recruits often moved with the main force; no one had time or energy to focus on folding quilts perfectly.

She hurriedly interrupted their conversation, “Are you all just standing around with nothing to do? Hurry up and tidy your quarters.”

Since her return, Xu Qiao’s strange behavior had left her comrades in the squad not just surprised but suspicious, questioning her motives.

She was never very adept at socializing and felt awkward.

It wasn’t that they were overly suspicious; it was that Xu Qiao had too many past offenses, making it hard for them to trust her.

The squad leader was momentarily stunned. When she saw Xu Qiao actually jump down and start folding her quilt, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

Standing amidst the group, somewhat intrigued, Xu Qiao was momentarily stunned but quickly shouted, “Here!”

Logically, her previous self had been through new recruit training and should have been familiar with the rules and discipline here.

The barracks’ conditions naturally couldn’t compare to home. These days, sleeping on that comfortable bed—no fear of surprise attacks or bombs—should have been restful.

“No, I’m getting up now!” Xu Qiao snapped back to reality and hurriedly sat up.

Suddenly sitting upright, half asleep, she saw others already up, tidying their beds and quarters.

Hearing their words, the squad leader’s expression changed. She wasn’t afraid of Xu Qiao but knew her temper and didn’t want the newly eased tensions to sour again.

If Xu Qiao’s earlier change surprised them, this could only be described as shock. But since it was a positive change, though uncomfortable, it was welcome.

“Make sure your quarters are tidied before morning exercises. You’re the only one still lazing around, not doing your chores. What kind of soldier are you?” someone chimed in, the resentment in their voice obvious and long-standing.

Once someone spoke up, Xu Qiao finally relaxed, nodding. “Everything's fine. Your concern for my brother has been told to me. I haven’t thanked you all yet.”

Though Xu Qiao had entered the army through a special recruitment program, once dressed in this uniform, she had to abide by ironclad discipline.

She quickly stepped out of formation and stood before the several hundred people in the regiment.

But holding the quilt awkwardly, she didn’t know what to do with it.

Her past self was also a soldier, but wartime armies were fundamentally different from this. After so many years of development, many aspects had evolved and become so refined she couldn’t even imagine.

It was the squad leader, Guan Yuqi, who saw this couldn’t continue. She stepped forward. “Xu Qiao is back. Are your injuries healed?”

Before she finished, the squad leader caught on, nodding as she made the last fold of her own quilt, forming a perfect “tofu block,” then approached Xu Qiao’s side.

Suddenly, there was a commotion as the door was pushed open.

After Xu Qiao’s words, she felt a little embarrassed. “We are all comrades. Visiting you was the right thing to do, and besides, we didn’t do much to help.”

Yet these days, she never slept soundly—haunted by dreams of gunfire from her past life and memories of her current identity, even her recovery was uneasy.

Hearing her, others could only laugh and cry, “We all get up this early every day, okay?”

So this “tofu block” fold was unfamiliar to both her past and present self.

Unexpectedly, she fell asleep soundly on the hard wooden bed in the shared dormitory with a dozen others—no nightmares, and deeply peaceful, which was truly remarkable.

“Xu Qiao!” After morning exercises, the regiment assembled, and the commander’s voice rang out clearly.

The so-called squad leader was just a young woman, only a couple of years older and a bit more mature.

Seeing the squad leader frozen, Xu Qiao understood why.

Bearing unresolved punishment and facing an unfamiliar military environment, her heart was full of unease.

When she saw people inside the room—and that it was Xu Qiao herself—the noisy chatter instantly fell silent, as if their voices were choked off.

Seeing these familiar yet somewhat strange faces, her mind recalled scenes of past disputes.

After a long day of training, everyone was tired. Now with food, and Xu Qiao’s gesture of goodwill, no one was polite anymore. They brought out their stools and began chatting while eating.

From this alone, it was clear the original Xu Qiao had been utterly reckless—not only doing things out of line but breaking the most basic rules.

Looking up at Xu Qiao on the bed, one frowned, “It’s your first day back today. Are you skipping morning exercises again?”

Feeling all eyes on her, Xu Qiao, clutching her quilt, was embarrassed. Was folding a quilt really that dramatic?

That night, Xu Qiao drifted into sleep with a fluttering heart.

Whether they believed it or not, she was telling them in her own way that she was no longer the Xu Qiao they knew.

Despite her ample life experience, standing here under the gaze of hundreds still made her uneasy.

The commander merely glanced at her. “Xu Qiao, do you know why you’re called out?”

“Report, I know!” Xu Qiao didn’t care about embarrassment and answered loudly, “Unauthorized absence without leave!”

Her forthright reply stunned the commander, who looked at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

(End of chapter)