Carrying twenty kilograms wasn’t difficult for Cheng Feng, but running through the wilderness with it still took a heavy toll.
Halfway through, her shoulders were already straining under the load, and the ache spread to her lower back. On top of the muscle strain left over from yesterday’s training, she decided to stop competing with the others for speed. She took off her pack, dragged it along the ground, and slowed to a walk.
The once orderly formation had become scattered, the line of people stretching along a faint mountain path until it disappeared into the distance.
Since no one yet knew the exact rules, no one dared to stop rashly.
Earlier, when the pace was slower, Cheng Feng had been reviewing the key points from last night. But after running this stretch, with blood rushing to her head, her thoughts had grown a bit muddled.
Cheng Feng lowered her head and pressed two fingers against her temple, trying to suppress the faint dizziness. At the same time, she recalled the rules listed in the document, running through them mechanically and matching them against the current situation.
As she took in details of the surroundings, vague ideas flashed rapidly through her mind. Just as she was trying to sort through the jumble of thoughts, Shen Dan caught up from behind, stopped a short distance away, and panted as she spoke, “Not running anymore?”
Cheng Feng replied, “No. The instructor hasn’t even caught up. And where would a pigpen come from in the mountains? Are we seriously not getting around this pigpen thing in this exercise?”
Shen Dan hesitated. “Free-range pigs?”
A senior jogged past from behind. Hearing the last part, he said in surprise, “Huh? We have to feed free-range pigs? But how do you even feed them? If a wild boar injures a student, who’s responsible?”
Shen Dan fell silent.
How did these people even become schoolmates? It was kind of insulting.
The senior waved his hand. “Anyway, going faster can’t be wrong. I’ve heard the instructors at this base are especially ruthless and love messing with people’s heads. You juniors should hurry up after your break – I’m heading off first.”
No matter the task, Cheng Feng didn’t like coming in last.
As the people around her all started moving again, she couldn’t stay calm any longer. She hoisted her backpack and followed, breaking into a run.
…
Tao Rui was among the first group of students to reach the destination.
Back when they had been lining up, his position didn’t give him a clear view of the map – he only knew it was roughly in this direction. Following his memory, he ran until the terrain opened up, and there ahead was a prominent Alliance emblem posted in plain sight. Beneath the flag were piles of pre-prepared supplies, each wrapped in black bags, unmistakably marking the place as the “destination.” He let out a breath of relief.
The clearing around it was quiet, with hardly any passersby under normal circumstances. Not far away, a small river cut across the area, its current flowing slowly. The dry grassland had just begun to sprout a hint of green, and at a glance, the surroundings felt serene – the scenery wasn’t bad at all.
Tao Rui and the others set down their backpacks and lay on the ground to rest. The cold sweat on their foreheads quickly dried in the brisk spring wind, but the inner lining of their clothes was still damp, making them uncomfortable to wear.
Once their limbs relaxed, the hunger in their stomachs surged uncontrollably.
Some students opened their backpacks, only to find sandbags or empty boxes inside. Even the canteens weren’t filled with water.
A young man walked over to check the supplies at the site and found that these were all food and water – likely the lunch prepared for them by the base.
He looked up and said, “There’s food.”
Tao Rui licked his lips.
“Can we eat now?”
“The instructor’s not here yet. It’s probably not a good idea to just start eating, right?”
“What about discipline? The instructor hasn’t said how the food should be distributed -how can you just eat?”
“Judging by the amount, there’s clearly more than enough.”
“Let’s wait a bit. If the instructors want to punish you, they won’t miss this kind of nitpicky mistake. Don’t give them the chance – I don’t want to end up back at the pigpen.”
A student nearby asked curiously, “What exactly did you go through at the pigpen? Isn’t feeding pigs pretty simple? Pig farms nowadays have strict hygiene standards – how did you end up in such a mess?”
The First Military students weren’t very willing to answer. Students from other universities took the chance to pester them with all sorts of imaginative guesses. Meanwhile, the instructor strolled along unhurriedly, only arriving to join them after more than half an hour.
By then, the group of students were exhausted from chatting. They gathered around the supply point, craning their necks to look toward the distant forest, their expressions practically screaming “waiting with desperate longing.”
Mr. Zhou walked over, took one look at the scene, and burst out laughing. He waved a hand and said, “Go on, eat. Help yourselves – no need to worry about us.”
The students, however, were still quite polite. They first took two self-heating meal boxes and two bottles of soy milk and handed them to the instructors, only then collecting food for themselves.
Mr. Zhou briskly tore open his meal box and joked with the man beside him, “These little brats… I’m almost feeling a bit embarrassed.”
“You? Not a chance,” Mr. Xue said, not even bothering to hide his disdain. “You’ve got no shame and no conscience.”
Mr. Zhou laughed and shot back, “Get lost – what kind of talk is that? Do I look like that kind of person? Haven’t you noticed I can’t even lie?”
The afternoon sun was just right – not too warm, not too cool. Combined with the comfort of a full stomach, it left the students feeling pleasantly drowsy and sluggish.
After resting for a while, Mr. Zhou figured the time was about right. He stood up, clapped his hands, and said, “Pack up the area, carry your gear, and get ready to head back to base.”
Everyone felt like it was a bit unreal.
“That’s it? We’re heading back already? Nothing else?”
Mr. Zhou adjusted his cap and put it back on. “Yeah. Unless you want to stay a bit longer – that can be arranged too.”
The students began to question their lives.
Was it their own problem?
Well… if you really put it that way, carrying twenty kilograms for most of the day was pretty brutal for a bunch of technical-track students. Their shoulders were already aching from the weight, and they could barely keep their backs straight.
Thinking it through carefully from the beginning, the biggest issue was probably the instructors’ attitude.
…They simply couldn’t handle that kind of “kindness.”
One student, still unconvinced, raised his hand and asked, “Is there no punishment?”
“We’ll notify you when we get back,” Mr. Zhou replied vaguely, then raised his voice and shouted, “Attention everyone! Form up in five minutes!”
Everyone packed up their leftover trash and carried it with them, lined up in the same formation as before, called the roll, and set off on time.
Given the current situation, Tao Rui still couldn’t figure out how rewards and punishments would be handled. After walking for less than five minutes, he cautiously asked, “Sir, is there any benefit to getting back earlier?”
Mr. Zhou answered ambiguously, “Mm… there are some benefits to getting back early. It depends on you.”
Since he’d put it that way, and not wanting their earlier effort to go to waste, Tao Rui set his face and started running.
The rest of the students practically wanted to frame the words “Getting close to Tao Rui brings misfortune” and display them for all to see, accusing this walking disaster of his many crimes. Sighing and groaning, they still followed along, suffering together with him.
The return journey took longer.
Partly because the students from the command department really didn’t have great stamina, and partly because everyone had picked up on the evasiveness in Mr. Zhou’s words – and his clear enjoyment of watching them struggle.
Clinging to the hopeful belief that there might still be a bit of human kindness in the world, the students placed a sliver of trust in him and, after a grueling trek, made their way back to the training base.
All that “smooth sailing” proved to be nothing but an illusion the moment they reached the gate.
Cheng Feng arrived with one of the later groups. From a distance, she saw a bunch of utterly exhausted students gathered in a flustered cluster, helplessly surrounding the tightly locked gate.
Shen Dan stopped to catch her breath, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, dropped her backpack, and rushed into the crowd. The moment she saw the keypad lock on the panel, some ancient, violent instinct in her stirred on the verge of action.
Voices of despair drifted from the front –
“The gate’s locked – we can’t get in!”
“Where are the instructors?”
“Damn it! I’ve got a really bad feeling about this.”
“Don’t say that! I refuse to believe it!”
“I told you – there are no good people in this base! None! There might not even be any people at all!”
Cheng Feng shrugged off her load and let out a long breath. From her shoulders down to her legs, everything was so stiff it was almost beyond her control – yet her mind felt oddly light, as if it might drift away at any moment.
She slumped onto the ground, her vision flickering between black and white, unsure whether it was from exhaustion or sheer frustration.
Though both body and mind were worn out, the noise at the scene only grew louder. The only thing they still had energy for was talking – and now their mouths were working overtime.
Amid the rising agitation, the instructor finally appeared, strolling in along the main path. He raised a hand and pressed it downward, signaling for calm.
“What’s with all of you getting so worked up?” he said. “Relax. The base is very humane – you’ll definitely be given options when it comes to food and sleeping arrangements.”
No one spoke. Some leaned against the gate, others squatted on the ground – all of them staring at him with angry eyes.
It should have been an intimidating scene, but Mr. Zhou remained completely unfazed. He walked straight through the crowd, pushed aside the students blocking his way, and swiped a card in the slot.
The control panel lit up. Before the surrounding students could even feel relieved, a basic model popped up on the screen.
Then Mr. Zhou delivered the reality they least wanted to face:
“Answer as a group, by school. There are five panels, each with five randomly assigned major questions. The model is based on the mountain you just climbed. Until you solve them, this door will not open. Don’t even think about cheating – everyone’s questions are different.”
At that moment, a heart-wrenching roar tore through the air:
“Tao Rui!”
All the curses lost their force in the overwhelming misery, only to be swallowed back down at Mr. Xue’s cold warning: “Anyone who swears gets an extra question.”
Mr. Zhou, meanwhile, seemed in high spirits. He tucked his ID card back into his pocket and said with a smile, “If you can’t solve them, that’s fine too. We’ll deliver meals on schedule. As for the night, you can sleep wherever you like – we’ll at least provide a blanket each. We’ve also informed the local farmers, so you can go to them if you need anything. Even if it’s a pigpen, I hope you’ll keep an open mind. Well then – good luck.”
