"Come, let me teach you."
As Abram Phillips' figure disappeared through the door, the vice squad leader, heaving a sigh of relief unexpectedly, walked over to Flossie Wright, planning to teach her how to make her bed, even though she had no confidence in it herself.
If she could have taught Flossie, wouldn't Flossie's domestic chores have improved over the two months of training, instead of remaining so poor that even Abram Phillips was frustrated?
"Teach her? Don't make me laugh!"
A sudden scornful voice came from the side. Flossie lifted her eyelids slightly and saw Jocelyn Carrington approaching with crossed arms and arrogant strides. The disdain and mockery on Jocelyn's face was clear: she was targeting Flossie.
The vice squad leader paused, somewhat puzzled, and looked at Jocelyn Carrington.
The noise around them gradually quieted down. The other female soldiers in the squad instinctively stopped their work and conversation, all turning their eyes to these three.
"Deputy squad leader, save your breath. She's a spoiled rich girl. How can she humble herself to learn how to make a bed? Otherwise, she would've had her bed in order long ago!" As she spoke, a smug smile appeared on Jocelyn's face. "Besides, even if she's forced to learn, let alone whether she's willing or not, her uncoordinated movements aren't something that can be corrected in a short time!"
The more Jocelyn spoke, the deeper the smile on her face. It seemed as if mocking and ridiculing Flossie had become her amusement. Her voice, soft and slow, stung like a needle to the listener's ear, leaving even the vice squad leader at a loss for words.
However, the moment Jocelyn's eyes fell on Flossie, her smile froze instantly.
Flossie's languid demeanor dissipated. Her eyes were icy, with a murderous aura swirling in the depths as if a sharp sword aiming right at one's heart.
No escape.
Just by meeting Flossie's eyes, Jocelyn felt a cold chill rising from the depth of her being, as if her blood had turned to ice, causing her heart to stop for an instant.
But before she could recover, she saw a faint smile surface in those chilling, murderous eyes. The smile was like a soft spring breeze, but the provocation it carried was unmistakable.
Jocelyn stood rooted to the spot, utterly bewildered. She stared at the seemingly uncaring Flossie, her casual demeanor as if she hadn't taken offense at all, with a faint smile on her lips.
The murderous warning she'd perceived seemed like an illusion; she couldn't be sure it had even been real.
"What if I fold it correctly on the first try?"
Flossie's eyes sparkled with amusement as she leisurely asked Jocelyn, her smile full of confidence and provocative enough to infuriate.
Slightly taken aback, Jocelyn looked Flossie over a few times. Other than the infuriating smile, she saw no other signs of threat. After a moment of thought, she said without hesitation, "Then I'll do a hundred push-ups!"
"Is that so?" Flossie asked with a smile.
"Yes, that's what I said!" Jocelyn replied without thinking, then looked at Flossie arrogantly, "What about you, if you don't get it right the first time, also a hundred push-ups?!"
The smile in Flossie's eyes deepened. Her gaze drifted past the window to the parade ground outside. With a smirk, she spoke slowly, "Then I, shall run a hundred laps."