Zhao Zijie sat in his seat, silently looking at the textbook in front of him.

On the Application of Sun Tzu's Art of War in Interstellar Warfare

Hearing his roommate Gao Yang's complaint, he shifted his gaze slightly from the textbook, chuckled, and said, "What's the rush?"

"Since we haven't entered hibernation, there must be a time when we pilot a starship."

"Instead of overthinking, we should simulate a few more interstellar wars."

"Don't forget, when we leave the solar system and wake up again, we will be at war with the Proxima Centauri civilization."

Gao Yang's face fell, and he waved his hands repeatedly, saying, "Zijie, please don't say anymore."

"That interstellar war simulation course, I feel like throwing up just thinking about it."

"It's too difficult..."

Zhao Zijie smiled and was about to continue persuading his roommate when a series of urgent and forceful knocks came from the door.

Gao Yang lazily stood up from his chair, preparing to go open the door.

"Gao Yang!"

Zhao Zijie's expression turned serious, and he lowered his voice to call his roommate, "Wait, tidy up the room, I'll go open the door."

Seeing his roommate's puzzled look, Zhao Zijie lowered his voice again: "That knocking sound might be from Commander Qi."

Gao Yang's expression changed slightly.

He had no doubt about Zhao Zijie's judgment and quickly turned around to tidy up the slightly messy dormitory.

The knocking sounded again.

Zhao Zijie hurriedly walked to the door and pulled open the dormitory door.

"...Commander Qi."

Looking at the resolute-faced middle-aged man in front of him, Zhao Zijie called out softly.