Life sadly doesn't give you the chance to relive it. Those precious memories, just experiencing them once is enough—enough to talk about for a lifetime, enough to reminisce about for a lifetime, enough to carry with you for a lifetime.

As his thoughts flipped through, the chubby guy wanted to recall even more interesting times. He reckoned that even if he were given three days and nights, he wouldn't be able to finish reminiscing.

Take training, for instance. Let's talk about the standard military posture. Usually, when standing at attention, soldiers' thoughts are more or less the same: they can't wait for it to end.

Because though it seems simple—just standing at attention—it's anything but. There's a lot of intricacies involved. Standing at attention requires soldiers to be constantly tense and maintain a high level of mental focus. The basic techniques—chest out, head up, abs tightened, hips tucked, legs pressed together, fingers aligned with the trouser seam, ensuring the card doesn't fall—sometimes even include balancing a cup of water on your head. These all make up the foundational course for military posture training.

But once you leave the army and look back on those little moments as a spectator, reliving those snapshots from the past takes on a whole new meaning.

The chubby guy was now wondering: was his military stance back then up to standard? Had he ever slacked off? You see, standing at attention isn't just about standing still. Drill instructors would patrol at will, weaving through the squad. If your legs weren't tense enough, an instructor might suddenly kick the bend in your knee, causing you to stagger unexpectedly.

If such laziness was discovered, it wouldn't just be your punishment—your whole squad would suffer. Consequently, a soldier's sense of hearing became particularly critical.

Because if your hearing worked well, when you sensed an instructor sneaking up behind you, you'd instinctively tense up to avoid getting caught.

Feng Yi was different, though. This guy moved silently, with precise agility. If he wanted to sneak up on you, most people wouldn't detect a thing. This was exactly the problem—back then, the brothers often took suffering because of him.

It was impossible to know when Feng Yi would materialize behind you and suddenly kick you out of nowhere.

Of course, this guy's mischievous tendencies weren't limited to just that. Take something as simple as squad formation, for instance. Normally, when soldiers are in perfectly aligned formations, instructors would alternate commands: "At ease! Stand at attention! At ease! Stand at attention! At ease! Stand at attention!"...

In such situations, soldiers tend to instinctively predict Feng Yi's next command. When he says "At ease," the immediate assumption is that the next command will be "Stand at attention." When he says "Stand at attention," it's almost a given that the next will be "At ease." This is just how human nature works.

But Feng Yi was different. This guy loved breaking routines. After repeatedly switching between "At ease" and "Stand at attention" a few times, he'd suddenly throw in another "Stand at attention" while everyone was already at attention. People would often fail to react in time, instinctively shuffle their boots, completely unprepared—and fail. And the punishment? Physical training drills.

During Feng Yi's months at the special training base, he pulled this stunt three times. The intervals were long enough to catch people off guard every single time.

But thankfully, after learning their lesson twice, by the third time no one made the mistake again. Feng Yi finally stopped using this method to torment recruits and instead began finding other ways to engage in mental battles with the soldiers.

Take shooting for example. Normally, the recoil of an automatic rifle isn't huge, but during shooting practice, you must use the crook of your shoulder to firmly brace the weapon, ensuring there's no gap between you and the rifle. This is standard shooting posture.

But what Feng Yi prioritized above all wasn't this. Instead, he emphasized maintaining a consistent distance between your eyes and the gun's body. Particularly for a sharpshooter, when your mental power becomes excessively focused—when you're locked onto a target—your attention can become scattered, causing you to neglect the distance between your eyes and the gun. Only in the moment you pull the trigger, only when the recoil slams into your eye socket, do you snap back to reality, realizing your mistake. The consequence is often far worse than having the recoil hit your shoulder blade.

So, Feng Yi had his own set of standards for training. He didn't strictly adhere to textbook procedures; instead, he frequently innovated and adapted techniques, fusing them into a cohesive whole. It was because of such methods that the soldiers graduating from Mars Special Training Base went further—not just them, but Feng Yi himself too.

"Hey, chubby guy! What are you thinking about? Spacing out again? Don't tell me you've started daydreaming. Wake up, get it together!"

"Huh? Haha, no, nothing. I was just reminiscing about the past."

"Seriously? All you do is think about random pointless stuff. I've called you three times already, and only now do you respond."

"Three… three times?" Zhang Xiaobo repeated Blade Warrior's words, muttering the phrase "three times" out loud.

"Yeah, I called you three times."

"Impossible!"

Upon hearing Blade Warrior's statement, he immediately denied it. No way—it was absolutely impossible. Even if he were daydreaming, there's no way he'd space out to the extent that someone needed to call him three times before he noticed. At the very least, he was a trained soldier, with sharp reflexes honed to extraordinary responsiveness. Sure, maybe he had lost himself in some old memories, but there's no way he missed someone calling him three whole times.

"Uh…"

Blade Warrior momentarily found himself at a loss for words, his mind silently going "Emmmmm…" What's with this stubborn chubby guy overreacting like this? So what if it was one time, two times, or three times? Was it really that serious?

"I really did call you three times, though. But whatever, it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters! You couldn't have called me that many times! If you did, there's no way I wouldn't realize. Even if I didn't consciously notice, my subconscious would've retained the sound memory of your shouts."

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