Early the next morning, the warm winter sun softly fell on the base of the Fourth Squadron, with military flags fluttering and waving in the wind. Some soldiers were returning from morning training outside, chanting in unison, their expressions firm, their steps powerful, forming a neat line as they rushed into the dormitory building. On a balcony of the office building, Wu Jin quietly watched this scene with a worried face, brooding over something.
"Knock knock!" Someone knocked on the door, it was Wu Miao who entered.
Wu Jin quickly walked into the living room, gestured for Wu Miao to sit down and talk, then asked, "Are they two okay?"
"They've been thoroughly checked. The external injuries are minor, but they've caught a severe cold. They need to go to a place with warm weather for recovery. This icy cold place is unsuitable," Wu Miao quickly said, recalling two hours ago when the helicopter brought the unconscious Luo Zheng over, his state looking frightening.
