At the end of November, the East Sea Fleet, Marine Corps.
Mo Shangjun sat cross-legged on the grass, with a stalk of grass in her mouth, basking in the sun pouring down from above while watching the frogmen struggling in the mud pit.
After sitting for a long time, she adjusted her posture, bending her left leg, resting her elbow on her knee, with her palm supporting her chin, her gaze sweeping over the valiant frogmen as if trying to find a flower among them.
Finally, a young officer commanding the frogmen's training couldn't take it anymore, wiped his face with his hand, and walked over to her with a nervous heart.
"Officer Mo!"
The officer greeted Mo Shangjun when he got close, but stood ramrod straight, with a serious expression, looking at Mo Shangjun as if she were a ticking time bomb.
Perhaps it was too hot; sweat was rolling down his face.
"What is it?" Mo Shangjun raised her head, raising an eyebrow.
Her laid-back demeanor hardly looked like that of a proper officer.
