Chapter 1 — Hiding for Five Years, One Night Becomes Legend

Before closing my eyes, my grandmother grabbed my hand tightly: "Bac, promise me you will keep Tai Chi a secret until you are 28 years old." I agree. So I persevered in the army for 5 years. Five years in a row, my physical fitness was always at the bottom of the list, five years of being called "Soft Leg Shrimp" (sissy), five years of being bullied by new soldiers. Until that day, when 20 foreign special forces soldiers armed with guns surrounded us. The captain shouted: "Prepare to sacrifice for the Fatherland!" I took a deep breath... Grandpa, I'm still two months away from turning 28 years old. Surely you don't blame me, right? 【Chapter 1】 My name is Hua Bac. Stationed at a Southwest border unit for 5 years, with the rank of Corporal, nicknamed "Soft Leg Shrimp". Where this nickname comes from is a long story. In the 3000 meter fitness test, I ran last in the entire company. Pull up pull up bar, people do 15 to meet the standard, I hung on the bar, swung 3 times and then fell with a thud. During personal combat training, I was pressed to the ground by a new soldier weighing 60kg. It's been five years. The whole company had the same opinion: This guy, Hua Bac, has a good heart, a smart mind, he's bad at everything, only eating is the best. My squad leader was Trieu Thiet Tru, a muscular 1m85 tall guy who loved to make fun of me. Every time he goes out to exercise in the morning, he slaps his wallet on the back of my neck: "Hua Bac! Follow closely! Your grandmother runs faster than you!" I didn't say anything and quietly walked to the bottom of the squad. In my heart, I silently thought: Grandpa told me to hold off until I was 28 years old. If I wait until I'm 28 years old, I'll be free. Only two months left. Just two more months. Who would have thought that God would not give me that opportunity. Three days ago, our platoon received orders to patrol along a section of the Vietnam - China - Myanmar border. The battalion commander said this was just a routine mission, nothing changed. I believe it. I shouldn't have believed it. Today is the third day of patrol. 4 am. It's not yet dawn, the jungle is as hot as a steamer. Twelve of us marched along the planned route. Team leader Tran Ve Quoc took the lead, clutching his gun to his chest, his eyes scanning the bushes on both sides of the road. Everything looked peaceful and unharmed. Then I heard it. An extremely soft metallic sound – The sound of a gun barrel being cocked. Not our people. Direction: Front left, 30 meters. My pupils shrank. Before he could even open his mouth –

“Dang!”

The first gunshot tore through the night before dawn.

“LIE DOWN!!”

Captain Tran screamed and rushed straight behind the nearest mound. The bullets flew "whooshing" over the top of the head, hitting the tree trunk, causing sawdust to scatter. I lay down on the ground, pressing my face into the wet mud, my heart beating like a drum. Incorrect. It's not just a few people. Judging from the density of firepower — at least 20 guns, firing diagonally from three directions. This is a siege.

“Don't you all raise your heads!” Trieu Thiet Tru lay next to me, shooting back and swearing, "We're surrounded! There are at least 8 people on the left!"

“There is also on the right side!” Ly Manh shouted, “I count at least 6 points of firepower!”

Captain Tran's voice rang out from the front, hoarse and urgent: "Units report ammunition!"

“The squad leader has 3 bullets left!”

“Old Truong 5 pills!”

“I have exactly 1 tape left bullet!"

After the report, everyone fell silent. Each of us only carried 3 magazines. Going on a regular patrol, who would have expected to be ambushed? Bullets scattered like rain, bushes were plowed to pieces. The enemy was clearly a professional mercenary - the suppressive fire was extremely accurate, pinning us in this low-lying area, unable to raise our heads. Three minutes later. The gunfire gradually subsided. It's not that the other side stopped shooting, it's that our side ran out of bullets. Dead silence. There was only the sound of panting. And the sound of footsteps echoed from afar — they were closing the circle. Captain Tran leaned his back against the mound and closed his eyes. When he opened his eyes, his expression made my heart sink. It was an expression I had never seen on his face. Desperate.

“Brothers.” His voice was very calm. “I'm out of bullets. The opponent had at least 20 people, armed to the teeth. We can't escape.”

No one spoke up.

“If… it has to be the last step…” He paused. “We are soldiers, we must die with dignity.”

Trieu Thiet Tru's lips trembled. Ly Manh rested his head on his arms. New soldier Vuong Tieu Dong's eyes were red, his mouth opened but no sound came out. I lay down in a mud puddle. Looking at teammates who have eaten and practiced together for the past 5 years. Look at their desperate faces. *Grandpa.* *I'm sorry.* *I can't bear it anymore.* 【Chapter 2】 To put it bluntly, my grandfather's last words to me were very simple.

“In the North, the Hua family's Tai Chi has been passed down for 13 generations. You are the one with the best talent, but you must remember - Tai Chi is not for fighting and winning. I give you a time limit: before you turn 28, you must not let anyone know that you know martial arts."

That year I was 18 years old. The day he closed his eyes, I knelt in front of the bed and bowed my head loudly three times. Make a poisonous oath. Then I joined the army. Why join the army? Because he added another sentence: "Join the army and hone your character, don't play chess all day with the old men in the village." I never told you that the chess board of the old men in the village, I accepted all the moves to let them move. I haven't told him yet, when I was 8 years old, I stood for 6 hours straight, and he was so happy that he drank half a kilo of white wine. Not to mention, when I was 15 years old, the instructor of a martial arts school in a neighboring district brought 8 people to an "exchange" and I used the "Van Thu" technique to push them to the ground. You know. He knows everything. So he told me to hide it.

“The Hua family's Tai Chi is an assassin skill, not a performance dance. You are now like a sword without a sheath, too sharp, you must learn to shrink."

And I cower. Collect very thoroughly. On the first day of joining the army, I ran a 3,000 meter fitness test, and I intentionally ran last. Actually, that speed felt like walking to me. Pulling up the pull-up bar, I hung myself on the bar and pretended to push with my face red, when in reality that weight compared to my finger strength was only equivalent to lifting a chopsticks. Resistance training is the hardest to hide. During practice, the new soldier rushed to hug me, I had to control my body extremely precisely so as not to react. Do you know how difficult it is to suppress the body's "Hoa Kinh" (borrow force to attack) instinct when someone is approaching and grabbing you? One time Ly Manh practiced with me, grabbed my collar and pulled me down, I almost missed it Reflexively used the move "Lam Tuoc Vi" (Grasp the Sparrow's Tail) to throw him away. I had to grit my teeth and hold back. The price I have to pay is my butt hitting the ground.

"Haha! Hua Bac, this weak shrimp! Even 60 kilograms can't stand it?"

Trieu Thiet Tru laughed hard. The whole squad laughed. I sat on the ground, also laughing. Laugh very sincerely. Because inside I'm counting down the days — 1826 days left. Minus one. The most ridiculous time in the past 5 years was last year's final exam.