Lu Qiming’s words hung in the air, and Qian Xixi’s expression stiffened slightly.
She stumbled for several seconds before gathering her thoughts and replying, “You’re the team leader. Everyone calls you Team Leader Lu.”
Lu Qiming met her gaze with a clear, unwavering look. “That’s not what I meant.”
Qian Xixi frowned in confusion. “So you’re saying I should call you ‘Brother Lu’ instead?”
Lu Qiming said nothing.
She pressed on, “Then which do you prefer? ‘Brother Lu’ or ‘Brother Ming’?”
Lu Qiming pursed his lips slightly but still didn’t respond.
He was well aware that his irritation wasn’t about whether she called him “Team Leader Lu” or “Brother Ming.”
His displeasure stemmed purely from the fact that she showed a closer familiarity with others than with him.
They were all from the same unit, sent on mission after mission, isolated from the outside world year-round.
Stepping outside the camp gates was like a drop of ink falling onto a brightly colored oil painting— everything was out of place.
In the presence of Qian Xixi, whose smile was as colorful and vivid as a rose, Lu Qiming always felt a restraint growing from within.
His roots were planted deep in the iron-blooded military camp and on battlefields wreathed in smoke and gunfire.
The electronic barriers at the camp’s main gate rose and fell, drawing a clear boundary between two worlds: the colorful one belonging to her, and the dark one belonging to him.
So, now that Qian Xixi was going to stay in the camp for a whole month, Lu Qiming was in surprisingly good spirits.
He saw it as an opportunity to show this young lady that beyond his outdated, rigid, and taciturn exterior, there was a positive, energetic side as well.
Song Qingfeng joked that he was scheming, using Commander Xiao’s name to trick her into going to the basketball game.
It was as obvious as day— he looked like a peacock proudly spreading its feathers.
Lu Qiming was perfectly fine with that.
Showing his strengths to the girl he liked and catching her attention was legitimate and natural. There was no need to be ashamed.
Lu Qiming knew Qian Xixi had just arrived at the camp. The environment, the people, even the Wake-up Call sounding precisely at dawn every day— all of it was alien and uncomfortable to her.
So, as the only “familiar face” she had, she showed complete trust in him, with a subtle trace of dependence barely perceptible.
Everything seemed to be progressing positively, step by step.
But just now, when he saw her and An Zhicheng laughing together at the Mess Hall entrance, the harmonious scene suddenly made Lu Qiming realize he had overlooked something extremely important.
She was dazzlingly beautiful, radiantly exceptional.
A living splash of vivid color like that, walking among a group of men in the military camp—how could she not attract attention?
He was careful not to startle her, polite and restrained, never daring to cross the line of friendship.
Yet those brazen scoundrels had come over shamelessly, finding any excuse to chat her up, adding her on Weibo, and even expecting her to call them “Brother.”
The girl, pure and warm-hearted, with clear eyes full of innocence, couldn’t see their schemes for what they were…
A sudden twitch in his temple.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Lu Qiming raised a finger to pinch the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
After a moment, he forced himself to look away from the girl’s face.
Nearby.
Seeing Lu Qiming’s action, Qian Xixi’s attention shifted from the unfinished “forms of address” topic.
She studied him carefully, a flicker of worry crossing her brows, and timidly asked, “Team Leader Lu, are you feeling unwell?”
“Didn’t sleep well last night,” Lu Qiming replied lightly. “It’s nothing.”
Lowering his arm from his forehead, he grabbed his chopsticks and resumed eating from his bowl.
Qian Xixi heard this and turned back around, quietly eating as well.
Was it her imagination?
He seemed a little unhappy.
Her mind mulling over this, she picked up a piece of greens and slowly chewed.
Seeing the man beside her eat quietly without speaking further, Qian Xixi put away her curiosity and casually lit up her phone screen to scroll through Weibo.
The Entertainment List was filled with celebrity gossip.
Top stars were rumored to be secretly married with kids, fresh idols caught meeting fans in private— endless repetitive stories that lost their charm after a glance.
Feeling bored, Qian Xixi switched to the General List.
As she browsed casually, her eyes suddenly caught a headline in sixth place: #Dongfeng Missile Cute Video#
Drawn in by the title, she raised an eyebrow and clicked on it.
The top post was a repost from a marketing account—a video showing footage of a Dongfeng missile test launch, accompanied by an original, cheerful song full of charm:
“I’m Little Dongfeng, flying wherever needed,
Comrades call me ‘Dongfeng Four-One’,
Enemies call me Death Sickle,
I have a fiery temper,
No one but Mom can discipline me,
The Great Wall’s majestic passes,
Five Peaks towering, sea waves roaring,
I want to shine brightly,
I want to bloom like brilliant fireworks for Mom,
For the country’s spirit, the stars, and the sea…”
Qian Xixi smiled softly, her finger moving to give the post a like.
Afterward, she blinked, her mind suddenly recalling the “Death Sickle sniper” legend she’d recently heard from Wen Hao.
Click. The screen went dark.
Qian Xixi put down her phone and glanced sideways, curiosity quietly stirring.
The legend’s protagonist remained focused on his meal, his cheek bulging slightly as he chewed, his profile handsome and calm.
After a moment.
Unable to hold back her mounting curiosity, Qian Xixi cleared her throat gently and spoke softly, “Team Leader Lu.”
“Hmm,” Lu Qiming responded without looking up.
“I heard your colleague say the sniper squad will be tested this afternoon, and that you’re the…”
“Mm.”
Qian Xixi hesitated, then cautiously continued, “You’re the proctor? So you…”
Lu Qiming said calmly, “It’ll do.”
Qian Xixi was about to ask outright if his marksmanship was so precise he’d been featured on CCTV, but caught herself just in time.
Wen Hao and Lu Qiming were in a superior-subordinate relationship. If anyone knew she’d mentioned this, it might affect Wen Hao’s image in the eyes of their superiors.
Thinking carefully, Qian Xixi decided to rephrase more subtly: “So, Team Leader Lu, were you originally a sniper?”
“Not really.” Lu Qiming wiped his mouth with a tissue, his tone casual. “I studied a Practical Combat Major at school. Sniping was just one of the basic training courses.”
Qian Xixi put down her chopsticks, watching him intently with genuine interest. “Besides sniping, what else did you learn?”
“I was selected for the Basketball Team in my freshman year, so the courses I took afterward were different from my classmates’.”
“Which courses?”
“Explosives, mine clearance, intelligence, technology, closed-circuit diving, high-altitude parachuting. I studied them all systematically,” Lu Qiming explained.
Qian Xixi’s eyes widened in surprise.
Though she didn’t fully understand the terms, it all sounded impressive.
“So you really know a lot.” She smiled sincerely and paused before asking, “Did you have any special experiences before? Like… ever been on the news for a military operation?”
As her words landed, Lu Qiming paused slightly, tossing the tissue into his standard-issue tray. He turned his head to look straight at her, his expression calm.
“What did they tell you about me?” he asked.
Qian Xixi choked on her saliva, coughing awkwardly, suddenly flustered and nervous. She instinctively replied, “They didn’t say anything. Really.”
Lu Qiming stared at her intently, saying nothing, his gaze heavy and intense.
One second passed, then two.
By the third second, under the pressure of that commanding stare, Qian Xixi lost her composure.
She whispered hesitantly, “They said you’re really good at basketball, always MVP in the PLA Basketball League… said your marksmanship is so accurate you can eliminate terrorists from 3,000 meters away, and that you appeared on that year’s CCTV news…”
Lu Qiming raised an eyebrow. “Was it those Cooking Squad guys?”
“… You don’t need to worry about who said it,” Qian Xixi said anxiously, her fair cheeks flushing a rosy pink. “Besides, I promise, they only said good things about you, not a single bad word. You don’t have to worry about them.”
Seeing her cheeks redden, Lu Qiming lightly traced the lines on his palm with his index finger and asked calmly, “What exactly is Teacher Qian worried about?”
Qian Xixi blinked, silent.
Lu Qiming said, “Afraid I’ll go ask Little Cui and the others about it?”
Still silent, Qian Xixi looked up at him with wide, clear eyes, nodding slowly after a moment.
Lu Qiming stared at her and said, “They didn’t break any rules or regulations. There’s no need for you to be so nervous or to think I’m some uncivilized brute who acts without reason.”
“… It’s not that I think you act without reason,” Qian Xixi stammered, voice faint as a mosquito’s hum. “I just heard before that your style was quite strict. I misunderstood.”
He gave a faint, dry smile. “That’s exactly what you meant by ‘not a single bad word.’”
Qian Xixi: “…”
She raised a hand to cover her face.
The more she spoke, the worse it sounded. Their internal affairs could be whatever—they were better off leaving it be. She decided to give up trying.
The two were chatting aimlessly when suddenly footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
Then a young man’s voice rang out, warm and casual, calling, “Team Leader Lu!”
Qian Xixi instinctively looked up toward the voice.
A tall figure was approaching the table where Lu Qiming sat, carrying an empty standard-issue tray.
Dressed in uniform with a cap, fair-skinned with sharp features, he was an impressive-looking man.
Qian Xixi felt he looked familiar, furrowing her brows as she thought for a moment.
She remembered seeing him before at the basketball gym—they were on the same Basketball Team as Lu Qiming.
Song Qingfeng’s footsteps were light as he came over.
He glanced at the girl beside Lu Qiming but quickly looked away, bending down to whisper into Lu Qiming’s ear in a volume only the two could hear, “Hey, where have you been all afternoon? Sneaking off to meet your crush behind my back? What, am I showing up at the wrong time?”
Lu Qiming met Song Qingfeng’s gaze without expression and asked dryly, “Are you asking for a beating lately?”
“…”
Song Qingfeng was momentarily speechless, muttering a curse about being heartless before straightening up and quickly smoothing his face into the mature demeanor of a major.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, I noticed my hair’s gotten long today,” Song Qingfeng said with a smile. “Could you help your little brother get a trim?”
Lu Qiming: “Didn’t I cut it for you last time?”
“Come on. Does your haircut last a year after just one cut?” Song Qingfeng said, dropping the tray and plopping down beside Lu Qiming.
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