The chief instructor stood up and looked at the 36 students on the bus. He sighed softly. It was the same every year. Every year, his heart would feel heavy.
Although the military training only lasted for ten days, to these students, the students they trained were their own soldiers. Their actions and commands taught the students how to sweat and laugh together. Even if it was only for ten days, they were still the soldiers they trained.
How could they be in a good mood when they were separated from the soldiers they trained?
They would be fine after some time. Time was the best medicine for healing.
They were almost at the school. Song Zhiqiu, who was sitting by the window, moved his arm and took out a few letters from his pocket. He touched Ye Jian's arm lightly and handed the letters over.
Ye Jian was looking at the message book. Seeing the letters, she looked at Song Zhiqiu in confusion. "For me?"
