June 5, 1938, 10:00 AM

　　Yaoting and San-Shao stood before the Nationalist Commander-in-Chief Headquarters in Wuchang, reporting on time.

　　Dong Da leaned against their horse cart, sucking on his long-stemmed pipe. His eyes tracked the boys pacing at the gates—a sourness in his chest.

　　San-Shao was his only son, no siblings. By the Nationalist conscription law—"one son drafted per two"—he was exempt.

　　Yaoting? Two sons in his family. Perfectly eligible.

　　Dong Da worked his pipe, smoke coiling like his thoughts: Gentry sons count as sons—tenant sons don’t? And you, my milk-son Yaoting— so desperate to play soldier, why drag my boy? Selfish brat!

　　Ten minutes crawled by—no officer emerged. Yaoting jabbed San-Shao’s arm: "Ask those guards! Why no escort? Go!"

　　San-Shao grunted "Right." He marched to the sentries, shoulders squared. "We’re recruits reporting! Where’s our escort?"

　　The sentry on the right didn't turn his head—only his eyes slid sideways, silent.

　　San-Shao scoffed. "Deaf posts! Screw it—I'm walking in!" He shoved toward the gate.

　　Steel flashed—bayonets crossed before him.

　　"HALT!" both guards bellowed. "State your business!"

　　Dong Da stumbled from the cart, back bent like a bow. "Honored soldiers—calm your fury!"

　　The right sentry's voice iced over: "Recognize your station! DISAPPEAR!"

　　San-Shao's fists clenched. "You disrespect my FATHER!" He stabbed a finger at Dong Da. "SON OF A BITCH!"

　　Rifle butts CRACKED against his ribs. San-Shao staggered back with a gasp.

　　"WHO AUTHORIZED THIS?!"

　　The registration major exploded from the building, eyes locked on the beating.

　　San-Shao recognized him instantly. He plopped onto the dust, thrashing. "Screw this army shit! Soldiers assault civilians? I quit!"

　　Zhou Zhidao hauled him up, grinning. "Two rifle butts scare you? Got guts? Kick them back!"

　　San-Shao's rage dissolved into a chuckle. He slapped dust off his trousers. "Major, I’ll take that offer!" He darted forward—two swift kicks to each sentry’s shins. The guards stood rigid, absorbing the blows.

　　Zhou Zhidao clapped their shoulders. "No deserters! Guts—I like it!"

　　Yaoting snapped to attention: "Major! Reporting as ordered!"

　　San-Shao added, still rubbing his head: "Major, meet my father—Yaoting’s milk-father too."

　　Zhou Zhidao marched to Dong Da. "We thank you for your sons!"

　　Dong Da bowed deeply, voice trembling: "Honored Major… mere peasants. These unruly boys— forgive them."

　　The major’s voice boomed across the courtyard: "Rest assured! The National Army clothes, feeds, and readies them— to protect home and nation!"

　　San-Shao recognized the officer instantly. He dropped to the ground, kicking up dust. "Forget this army! Soldiers beating civilians? I'm done!"

　　Major Zhou Zhidao pulled him upright, a steadying hand on his shoulder. "Just two rifle butts? Prove your courage—return the favor properly."

　　San-Shao's anger melted into a grin. Brushing dirt from his pants, he declared: "Major, I accept!" He lunged forward—two precise kicks to each sentry's shins. The guards held their positions, accepting the discipline.

　　Zhou clasped their shoulders. "You reported—no deserters. True courage. Impressive."

　　Yaoting snapped to attention: "Major! Reporting as ordered!"

　　San-Shao added, rubbing his head: "Major, this is my father—and Yaoting's milk-father."

　　Zhou marched to Dong Da. "We proudly accept your sons."

　　Dong Da bowed deeply, voice hushed: "Honored Major... simple farmers. These boys need guidance..."

　　The Major's voice carried firm assurance: "They'll want for nothing. The National Army provides all—to defend our homes and nation."

　　San-Shao bounced on his heels, eyes bright: "Major! When do we get our rifles?"

　　A dry chuckle escaped Major Zhou. "Rifles issued tomorrow. Four grenades per man—and fixed bayonets."

　　Yaoting stepped forward, gaze intent: "Major... We deploy to Tianjiazhen in two weeks?"

　　Zhou spun sharply. "How could you know that, recruit?"

　　"Map study, sir." Yaoting nodded toward the east. "Last week at school—Hubei's terrain charts. Tianjiazhen is Wuhan's lifeline. Our strongest defensive point."

　　Zhou's stern expression softened. "Sharp mind, soldier!" Then his voice turned grave: "Correct. Fourteen days. The Japanese advance threatens Wuhan's gates. The 74th Iron Army defends Tianjiazhen."

　　Yaoting stood taller. "Your name and command, Major?"

　　Zhou's eyes held his. "Book knowledge impresses... but courage under fire matters more. You'll learn my rank in time."

　　Yaoting held back his questions about Zhou's rank, following quietly.

　　San-Shao scanned the receding cityscape. "Major? The city's fading behind us—where are we headed?"

　　"Just filed your enlistment papers at headquarters," Zhou replied without turning. "Caught you two right after. Temporary recruitment camp ahead—understood?"

　　San-Shao nodded. "Right!"

　　After thirty minutes' march, they reached a cluster of field tents. Zhou led them into the command tent.

　　"Get them uniforms!" Zhou ordered the sentry. "Report to Fourth Company for afternoon drills!"

　　San-Shao hesitated. "That's all, sir?"

　　Zhou raised an eyebrow. "You're soldiers now. What else were you expecting?"

　　Yaoting nudged San-Shao. "The Major's occupied. Let's find Fourth Company."

　　As they turned to leave, Zhou's voice stopped them: "Yaoting! Return here after uniform issue—you'll be my aide."

　　Yaoting stood firm. "Respectfully, sir—I enlisted to fight at the front."

　　Zhou studied him. "That takes courage. But your map skills? We need that intelligence here. This is still the warfront."

　　Yaoting met his gaze. "My place is in the trenches, sir."

　　San-Shao stepped beside Yaoting. "Wherever Young Master serves, I stand with him."

　　A wry smile touched Zhou's lips. "Such loyalty. Very well—both to Fourth Company." He dismissed them with a wave. "Seems I'll need to find another aide."

　　San-Shao followed Yaoting to Fourth Company's command post. The sentry called out at the entrance, waiting for a gravelly "Enter!" before guiding them inside.

　　"Captain Zhang!" The sentry snapped a salute. "Two new recruits assigned to Fourth Company by Battalion Command."

　　San-Shao took in the broad-shouldered officer with a thick beard reviewing documents at a field desk. Captain Zhang looked up briefly, waving them off with a rasp. "Acknowledged. Dismissed."

　　As the sentry departed, Zhang rose and circled the recruits slowly—his boots scuffing the hard-packed earth. He stopped directly before San-Shao, his gaze locking onto the young man. A faded scar traced a path toward his eyelid, accentuating his focused stare.

　　San-Shao shifted uncomfortably. "Why the staring, Captain? We're not museum pieces."

　　Yaoting offered a diplomatic smile. "Reporting for duty as ordered, sir. We're assigned to—"

　　Zhang continued studying San-Shao, his unwavering attention setting the young recruit on edge.