Pavlov handed the watch in his hand to Yegorov, “Board the train in this order, the Labor Camp and railway workers will help us secure the tanks and heavy artillery.”
After saying that, he turned to Wang Zhong, “The commanding general’s carriage is Carriage Number 1, right next to the anti-aircraft carriage.”
Wang Zhong, “I didn’t see any passenger carriages though?”
Pavlov smiled faintly, “There aren’t any. Your carriage has fewer people, and it also has tables and beds.”
… Seems acceptable?
Actually, Wang Zhong was quite curious to try sleeping on straw; after all, he had no idea what kinds of hardship he would face in the future. It might be good to get used to it in advance.
Just then, his hand was suddenly seized by someone.
Immediately after, something as bulky as a big cotton-padded coat wrapped around him, and the chilly night wind that had been blowing disappeared, replaced by warmth.
Wang Zhong was startled and hurriedly turned around to see which demon was gnawing at his hand.
It was Ludmila, clutching Wang Zhong’s arm like a pillow and craning her neck up.
Wang Zhong, “Don’t do this, we’re both in uniform.”
Ludmila, as if she hadn’t heard him, said, “Your essay clearly deserved zero points, yet you can speak so well!”
“Miss, you’ve got it all wrong,” Wang Zhong thought. That part that ended with beef stewed with potatoes was my actual level; the cool part afterwards was “If We Do Not Go To War,” the most famous modern poem by the poet Tianjian…
All my awesome speeches were copied, don’t admire me, Miss!
As Wang Zhong was feeling guilty for occupying someone else’s “achievements,” Ludmila turned to Pavlov and asked, “Carriage Number 1 has beds, right?”
Pavlov nodded seriously, “Yes, but they are more lightweight campaign beds. Do you want me to change them for sturdy wooden beds?”
Wang Zhong’s mind went blank for a moment: “What do you mean? Why switch to wooden beds?”
Ludmila, “No need, lightweight campaign beds are fine.”
Pavlov, “Alright. The rest of us officers will just squeeze in Carriage Number 2 with the soldiers.”
???
Wang Zhong was about to ask what was going on when Ludmila dragged him towards the train.
At that moment, Wang Zhong finally realized what was about to happen — it was just that this development seemed so sci-fi to him, completely impossible, so he hadn’t been thinking in that direction at all.
Wang Zhong, “Ludmila! Didn’t we agree to wait until after the war…”
“Call me Liu Xia, or Mira is fine too!” the girl interrupted Wang Zhong.
Ludmila’s nickname was Liu Da, and a more intimate term of endearment was Liu Xia, which usually meant that two people had truly become close.
This girl meant business today!
“Why so suddenly?”
“I don’t know! Just looking at you during your speech, I felt it had to be today!”
Wang Zhong, “Ludmila! Liu Da! Liu Xia! The coming years of war will be extremely arduous, let…”
“I’ve thought it over! It’ll be no problem!”
“Oh, you’ve thought it over, then… eh?”
Wang Zhong glanced at the soldiers who had stopped boarding to watch the show, his face turning red.
Why could this girl be so forward in front of so many people? Where was her modesty?
Just then, Wang Zhong remembered that Ludmila was a “Mao mei,” and in the future, she would grow into a Russian woman capable of wrestling bears in the deep forest; being a bit fierce was quite normal, wasn’t it?
As he thought this, Wang Zhong was dragged into Carriage Number 1.
Upon entering the carriage, Ludmila pushed him against the wall of the stuffy tanker with a backhand move, “I know you’re right, I understand. And I agree! But how can you expect me to hold back?”
“That brother who’s always causing trouble suddenly turned into… a white horse!”
Wang Zhong, “Turned into a white horse?”
Bucephalus?
Ludmila, “It’s just…”
She was at a loss for words, paused for a few seconds, and shouted, “Whatever!”
Then she swooped in for a kiss.
Poor Wang Zhong had never seen such a sci-fi, such a vigorous development. His understanding of how forward a girl could be was merely at the level of “if a girl’s underwear set matches, you might be the one being slept with.”
He’d never seen such a fierce girl before; it was a complete blind spot for him.
Could it be that all the girls from this region were this aggressive? Would he be rolled back and forth by the wheel in the future?—Wang Zhong, who was currently being rolled back and forth by explosive reactive armor, thought this.
Wang Zhong, “Couldn’t you at least wait until the train starts?”
“No one’s going to come in!” Ludmila said.
————
Jules 914, July 9th, 0350 hours.
The train carrying Wang Zhong and his troops slowly entered Sabachefsky, 110 kilometers from Loktov, to resupply coal as well as water for the boilers and tanks.
Wang Zhong stood at the open door of Carriage Number 1, looking out at Sabachefsky in the morning light.
Ludmila appeared beside him, saying, “Put your uniform on properly! What kind of look is that with your belt unbuckled? Soon a lot of soldiers will come down for fresh air, and if they see you like this, it will affect their morale!”
While chiding him, she skillfully helped Wang Zhong dress properly, then stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, “Good morning.”
Wang Zhong was still absent-minded, “Morning.”
Ah, he thought, my fiancée is so amazing. A little too amazing, causing my sage time to extend into the next morning.
Ludmila turned to tidy her silver hair, saying as she did so, “You should find a batman. What kind of general doesn’t have a batman?”
“Sure.” Wang Zhong replied absently.
Ludmila went on, “Too bad I’m a combat medic; otherwise, I would be your batman myself.”
Wang Zhong, “Uh? Can a batman be a woman?”