Chapter 39: The Law of the Jungle
"That meat bun in your hand is mine," she said.
Before the words had even settled, the man laughed—a sinister, chilling sound. "Kid, don't start trouble," he sneered.
"I just want what's mine."
The man looked her over. The boy was frail, his frame slight, drowning in the standard-issue crimson military uniform that hung loose and long on him. He was shorter than most boys his age, standing there like a half-grown child.
A child daring to challenge him was like a reckless pup barking at a wolf—nothing but laughable.
"Yours?" The scar-faced man scoffed, snatching up the meat bun. Before He Yan could react, he shoved it into his mouth. The already small bun disappeared in two or three ravenous bites, as if a beast had torn into its prey. Finishing, he smirked at He Yan, taunting, "Yours? Who can prove it? What can you do about it?"
With the food already in his stomach, He Yan couldn’t very well cut him open to retrieve it. The man watched with relish as He Yan stood helpless, then leisurely sauntered off with his bowl of porridge.
"What can I do?" He Yan murmured to herself. A moment later, a faint smile touched her lips. She turned and strode toward the scar-faced man, who was hunched over, slurping his porridge. With a swift kick to the back of his knee, his legs buckled, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. He staggered but caught himself—though his porridge splattered across the dirt, not a drop left. Furious, he whipped around and saw He Yan. "You—!" he snarled.
"Me?" He Yan grinned. "I did it. Who can prove it? What can you do about it?"
Mischief and a veiled challenge glinted in the boy’s eyes, stoking the man’s rage. The scar-faced man clenched his fist and lunged forward.
"Hey, what’s your problem?"
A voice cut in—Hong Shan, striding over with Shitou. Xiao Mai, watching from a distance, had guessed something was wrong when He Yan lingered too long with the scar-faced man and had sent his elder brother and Hong Shan over.
Hong Shan and Shitou didn’t look as easy to push around as He Yan. Both were broad and sturdy. The scar-faced man hesitated, then settled for a cold snort. He shot He Yan a venomous glare. "You’ll pay for this!" he spat before storming off, his threat hanging thick in the air.
"What happened?" Hong Shan asked.
"He stole my meat bun. I spilled his porridge. Fair trade," He Yan replied simply.
Hong Shan sighed, shaking his head. "You shouldn’t have provoked him. You should’ve just let it go."
"Why should I?" He Yan countered.
Back when she first enlisted, things like this happened all the time. The strong preyed on the weak in the barracks. Back then, having her food stolen was routine. If not for the kindness of her tentmates, who shared their rations out of pity, she might have starved to death long ago.The instructors in the barracks could stop open conflicts, but they couldn’t prevent these covert acts of theft. Moreover, she had been too weak back then—so weak that even the instructors couldn’t be bothered with her, let alone stand up for her. It wasn’t until later, when she grew stronger, that no one dared to steal her food. And later still, when she became a commander herself, she strictly forbade her own recruits from bullying the weak or taking others’ food, punishing such acts with military discipline.
Who would have thought that after being reborn, she’d encounter the exact same situation again? But this time, she was no longer that timid new recruit who trembled in fear and endured grievances in silence. Even if Hong Shan and Shitou hadn’t shown up earlier, she would’ve had more than enough strength to teach that scar-faced man a lesson.
“That guy’s called Wang Ba,” Hong Shan said. “He used to be a mountain bandit—no idea how he ended up enlisting. He’s the fiercest under Instructor Liang’s command, or so I’ve heard. The kind of man who kills without blinking. You crossed him today, and he’ll hold a grudge. He’s bound to make trouble for you later. Shitou and I can’t be by your side every day. If he finds an opening… your life will get very hard.”
“I can’t just let him take my things and do nothing. Shan-ge, you have to understand—if he steals from me once, he’ll do it again. If he comes to rob me every day, how am I supposed to live?” He Yan replied. “The world shouldn’t be this unfair.”
“The world was never fair to begin with,” said the usually quiet Shitou, shaking his head slightly at He Yan as if disapproving of her earlier actions. “You were too reckless.”
“If there’s no fairness, then fight for it yourself. If you’re too weak to fight for fairness, then grow stronger.” He Yan smiled faintly. “If fists are the only law here, then let him come to me. I’ll make sure… he learns what fairness really means.”
The young man spoke lightly, his expression calm, his clear eyes holding a trace of amusement. The wind ruffled his hair ribbon, making him look less like a lowly soldier and more like a carefree young noble strolling through the capital streets. One might have teased him for being “a newborn calf unafraid of a tiger,” but meeting his gaze, the words died on their lips.
Was he truly just a reckless fool?
His confidence didn’t seem like mere bravado.
Shitou and Hong Shan said nothing more. The two accompanied He Yan to the shade of a tree, where Xiao Mai, upon hearing that He Yan’s meat bun had been stolen, lamented for a while before clumsily comforting him: “It’s alright, Brother He. In a few days, we’ll be allowed up the mountain. I’ll make some slingshots to hunt birds or set traps for rabbits. We’ll feast on game—way better than the measly bits of meat in those buns!”
He Yan chuckled and agreed cheerfully. After finishing his bowl of porridge, he rested his hands behind his head and leaned against the tree trunk, feigning sleep.
The sun lazily cast its rays, and the shade offered a rare moment of coolness. Closing her eyes, her mind wandered through countless thoughts.
Losing a meat bun was a pity, but not something worth dwelling on. During real campaigns, when military supplies ran thin and they were forced to defend a city, they’d sometimes have nothing—not even porridge, let alone meat buns. She’d chewed on tree bark and roots, and at worst, even eaten clay that bloated her stomach painfully. Yet they’d held the city at all costs.
Compared to those times, this was already bliss.But... as the wind brushed against her cheeks, He Yan curled her lips into a faint smile. If her guess was right, in at most five days—just five days—the skill training should begin. Some would be assigned as cooks. With her current physical condition, she might just qualify for the skill training. But how could she demonstrate her worth in the shortest time possible and prove she deserved to join the vanguard?
That was the question.
(End of Chapter)
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