"I don't have that much money, and in fact, I'm not here to buy a bow." The woman smiled as she spoke, walking through the door. The buzz-cut wooden-faced man stood guard at the entrance. She looked at Brian Brooks's mother and, without beating around the bush, said directly, "Auntie, I'm here to ask if your family’s Henry has any intention of joining the army. As long as he has this idea, no matter what difficulties there are, I can help him solve them."

One person joins the army, the whole family is honored.

That was the old slogan on a certain wall at the entrance of the village. Unfortunately, in the whole big village, only Brian Brooks knew what it meant. This guy, cursed by every man, woman, and child in the village, told them it meant "unity is strength, have more children." Join the army, Henry—Brian Brooks's mind raced. He stared at that fair face; she didn’t seem to be joking. Otherwise, coming all the way to this mountain village in the middle of the night to mess with him would mean she was either kicked silly by a donkey or had her head caught in a door. But Henry wasn’t like those wild boar tusks—he couldn’t just be handed over because someone waved a wad of cash. The big guy only cared about being happy, while his mother stared at him, waiting for him to make a decision. Brian Brooks instinctively rubbed his stubbly chin, not seeming in a hurry to speak.

The young woman wasn’t in a rush either. She must be someone with great self-control, never anxious or impatient, making it impossible to read her true thoughts. She didn’t act like an outsider as she observed the room’s decorations, full of northeastern rural flavor—simple, plain, shabby, marked by poverty, but very clean, not at all slovenly. Finally, she noticed a yellowed, old photograph in a frame, placed squarely in the center of a wooden table in the corner.

"I'm not going."

The big guy gave his answer, seemingly not wanting to make things difficult for Brian Brooks.

The young woman's gaze shifted from the photo to the big guy. This was the first time she’d heard him speak; she had originally thought he was mute.

"This is my decision," Brian Brooks frowned, saying to the young woman, "Let’s talk outside."

Brian Brooks took down an old tobacco pipe from the wall, brought some homegrown tobacco, and went outside. He squatted on a mound of earth, puffing on the pipe like a worldly old man. The young woman looked at his back, feeling a slightly absurd sense of dissonance. It was indeed hard to reconcile a man with only a high school education with the image of an old man smoking a pipe. The two of them were silent for a long time. The taciturn man, whom Kevin Young considered to be no ordinary reconnaissance soldier, stood silently behind this pair whose backgrounds and education were worlds apart. He didn’t have Henry’s size, but even an outsider like Brian Brooks knew this guy was not to be messed with. Why? Because the dogs that bite never bark.

Chapter Seven: Brother

The black dog squatted beside Brian Brooks, as gentle as a kitten. This dog had chased wild boars, hunted leopards, and even bitten black bears. Its bite was fiercer than a wolf’s, but it showed not a trace of ferocity in front of Brian Brooks. The villagers all said it was a descendant of the mountain-guarding dog and a she-wolf from thirty years ago. Brian Brooks smoked his pipe, clouds of smoke swirling around, making the little mound look like a dangerous place where monsters would appear in "Journey to the West."

"Go." Brian Brooks took a deep drag, then exhaled heavily, saying in a low voice.

The young woman breathed a sigh of relief and said, "If you’re worried that him joining the army will be a financial burden on the family, there’s no need. There’s a decent allowance. Since I dare to ask for him, I definitely won’t just let him be sent to some ordinary local unit to waste his days—that would be a waste of talent."

"What’s your name, your background, which military region and which unit will you send Henry to? What’s your contact information? If something happens, how can I reach you right away?" Brian Brooks rattled off his questions, haggling like a housewife at the market. The young woman was clearly a bit unaccustomed to this way of communicating—too abrupt, too forward. For her, it was something new. She stared at Brian Brooks without showing any emotion, as if she were staring at a nearly 500-pound wild boar.

But the driver beside her frowned tightly. He was a soldier and didn’t appreciate the way this Brian Brooks expressed himself—hesitant, not straightforward. This was clearly something that would benefit this poor family in every way, yet it felt like they were lowering themselves to beg for a favor.

"I understand what you mean. It’s not easy, indeed."

She seemed to have realized the crux of the problem, gazing deeply at Brian Brooks's back—the back of someone who was neither deep nor strong, only showing the helplessness of a small person struggling. She promised, "I’m not the high-ranking official’s child you imagine. My father is just a mid-level officer, my mother is laid off and unemployed. But I will take Henry to the Shenyang Military Region, the 116th Mechanized Infantry Division of the 39th Army, to receive the best training. After all, I’m a soldier’s child myself, and I’m happy to see an outstanding soldier stand out. So this isn’t charity, and you don’t owe me anything."

"I will repay this favor."

Brian Brooks stood up. His voice wasn’t loud as he said this. He stared at the woman in front of him, whose name he still didn’t know. He couldn’t see any scheming in her eyes, which was strange. He remembered back in high school, the village chief’s son always had a sly, shifty air about him. Brian Brooks thought of that as cunning.

She sighed, looking at that stubborn face, and said, "I’ll stay in the village tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll take him away."

With that, she and the silent man left.