If you really thought about what Mr. Zhou said, there was actually a lot of information packed into it – unfortunately, he always deliberately phrased things in an unserious way.
Cheng Feng only went to eat after finishing the task at hand. Because of the transport robot’s heat-preservation function, the vegetables inside had been stewed until overcooked. She shoveled it down in a few bites, finding it rather tasteless. Even the deluxe charcoal-grilled lamb failed to stir her appetite – though that didn’t stop her from eating more.
Given the appetites of both her and Shen Dan, a single boxed meal wasn’t enough. So they opened another one and, with polite back-and-forth refusals, split it evenly between them.
When mentally exhausted, Cheng Feng always ate quickly. She packed up the used containers and stuffed them back into the robot’s rear compartment. The whole process took barely ten minutes, yet the sky darkened rapidly, as if a curtain had suddenly been drawn.
The streetlights flicked on.
Considering that some students would be staying outside overnight, the night lamps -originally meant just for basic illumination – were turned up to maximum power, lighting up the area around the entrance as bright as day.
Cheng Feng sat in the shadow of the light, hugging her knees as she gazed at the distant mountain peaks. Absentmindedly, she watched the evening glow fade from the horizon, the world sinking into complete darkness, until even the outlines of the mountains were swallowed by the hazy night.
As drowsiness rose, her mind managed to carve out a thin sliver of clarity to think about the modeling task.
It seemed that scouting at night was highly impractical. Cheng Feng could already picture how it would go.
The light sources carried by the students might illuminate the immediate surroundings, but their grasp of space and direction would inevitably be flawed. Even with night-vision goggles to help correct things, it would demand more effort and take more time – the efficiency simply wouldn’t justify the labor.
Moreover, the assessment required large-scale, long-distance perspectives as essential data, making it even less suitable to carry out at night.
Once the reconnaissance team realized how difficult it was to gather data, they would probably head back.
Cheng Feng yawned, her eyes misting with drowsy tears. She felt that staying up late was not a good choice.
Judging from the training intensity at the base, the instructors wouldn’t leave the students much time to adjust. Disrupting their schedule would only increase the burden on their bodies, and they’d likely struggle to keep up with the next day’s pace. Even for young people like them, it wouldn’t be sustainable.
Shen Dan was crouched in front of the panel, studying it intently, trying to refine the model based on her memory. But after filling in a few sections, she gave up. She simply wasn’t used to constructing such a large-scale real-world model purely from imagination. Every answer made her second-guess herself, worried she might mislead her teammates in the end, so she shook her head and abandoned the effort.
Bracing herself on her knees, Shen Dan stood up and walked over to Cheng Feng with heavy steps. She leaned against her, then lay down on the cold, hard ground, using her military backpack as a pillow and drifting into a light doze.
Around seven o’clock, Mr. Zhou showed up again, this time following behind a robot carrying blankets. Not long after, Mr. Xue arrived as well, responsible for taking any students who needed it to rest elsewhere.
Cheng Feng found her small quilt, rolled around on the ground a couple of times, and wrapped herself up tightly from head to toe until not a single gap remained. Satisfied, she adjusted into a comfortable position and promptly fell asleep.
Most people made the same choice as her – deciding to sleep out in the open for the night.
Looking at the rows of students, Mr. Zhou seemed unwilling to even go near them. With a look of disdain, he said, “Honestly, the lot of you – after sweating all day and not washing, now huddling together like this – how is that any different from a pigpen? At least a pigpen has water. It’s cleaner than you lot.”
Tao Rui laid his uniform jacket underneath him and quietly pulled the blanket over himself.
Unless absolutely necessary, he wasn’t going again.
Last night, pressed for time, he had still spent half an hour showering. He’d thought that should’ve been enough, but after sweating again today, he wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination – he felt like he was giving off some kind of smell from the inside out, something he’d never had before, as if it had truly seeped into him.
…It was all those people’s nonsense getting into his head, Tao Rui thought, growing more annoyed the more he remembered it.
Besides, he didn’t believe the base would be kind enough to offer free lodging. Most likely, once they got there, they’d be made to jump in and deal with waste for several hours before being exempted from the night’s accommodation fee.
Mr. Zhou crossed his arms and let out a cold laugh as he said to the colleague beside him, “Once they actually join the army, a month… no, a week will be enough to cure them of that precious cleanliness obsession. What’s a pigpen? A pigpen is practically paradise!”
Before long, the students who had gone out to scout returned one after another. As expected, considering how inconvenient it was to operate at night, they decided to head out early the next morning to gather data instead.
The area in front of the base gates quickly became lively again.
A group of students gathered to discuss things. After careful consideration, they ultimately decided to follow the instructors.
Even if there were pitfalls at the pigpen, at least those were out in the open. Here, that wasn’t necessarily the case – the instructors definitely wouldn’t let them sleep too comfortably right in front of the training building.
As military university students, that bit of pride and dignity didn’t amount to much. At most, they’d joke about it – anyone who truly couldn’t let it go would only end up being looked down upon.
Seeing quite a few students raise their hands to indicate they would follow, Mr. Zhou finally nodded in approval, a hint of a smile appearing on his face. “That’s more like it. Now those are the smart ones. Go on, follow Mr. Xue over there. Get a good rest tonight.”
The reconnaissance team from UFU didn’t return until around nine o’clock, and they brought back considerable results.
The strategy Cheng Feng had provided was indeed detailed enough, and with the preliminary model she had refined, even the most difficult long-range perspective had already been solved. After reviewing the remaining tasks, the team decided to pool their efforts and directly tackle the first major problem.
So, more than a dozen of them worked under night lamps near the starting route for over three hours, each drawing their own version of the map. They then combined them, cross-checking for omissions and errors. Only after confirming everything was correct did they return with the complete dataset.
The team leader entered the code from the notebook into the operation panel. After eliminating a small number of measurement errors, the final accuracy rate reached about 78%.
Several senior students then adjusted a few sets of data through a mix of estimation and guesswork. After more than half an hour, they successfully pushed the result up to 80%, just meeting the threshold to complete the task.
A subdued cheer, long held back in their throats, finally slipped out. They lightly clapped and shook hands, congratulating one another.
If Cheng Feng hadn’t already fallen asleep – and if her temper weren’t so prickly – the seniors would have definitely dragged her out from her blanket and shaken her shoulders to celebrate together.
After a full day of mental strain, the young cadets finally lay down, ready to rest.
Even with half a blanket laid underneath them, sleeping on the concrete ground was still far from comfortable. Some students, especially those with restless sleeping habits, had already kicked their blankets off themselves.
Just past midnight, when the stars shone brightest, snores rose and fell across the square. The streetlights had been dimmed, with half of them switched off, leaving a warm yellow glow softly illuminating the students’ peaceful sleeping faces.
Suddenly, a deafening siren tore through the stillness of the night sky, jolting everyone awake in shock.
Immediately after, Mr. Zhou appeared, blowing a whistle, and roared at the crowd in his booming voice: “Up! All of you! You’ve got three minutes – grab your blankets and run around the square. Ten laps – move! Timing starts now!”
Cheng Feng’s mind was still completely foggy.
The temperature was low at night; as soon as she crawled out of her blanket, the cold wind made her shiver uncontrollably. Not daring to waste any time, she hastily rolled up her blanket, slung it over her back, and mechanically followed the people ahead into a night run.
Mr. Zhou glanced at the stats on his optical computer, singled out a few students whose movements were sluggish, and made them run two extra laps. Only after everyone had finished did he coldly announce, “Alright. Continue resting.”
That “continue” didn’t last very long.
Around two in the morning, the same blaring siren rang out again.
This time, it was Mr. Xue blowing a whistle as he came to rouse them.
“Form up! All of you! Grab your blankets – ten laps, run!”
Half-asleep and nursing headaches, everyone dragged themselves back up, faces full of exhaustion as they trudged along the edge of the field.
They couldn’t resist, nor could they curse – what else could they do? Besides, the fact that the emergency assembly didn’t even inspect their appearance was already an act of great mercy.
Mr. Xue made a round around the field, watching the numbers flicker on his terminal. After supervising the task, he left briskly and decisively. “Alright, all of you – rest.”
After two rounds of physical exertion, the young cadets were on the verge of complete exhaustion. Some, especially those with more sensitive nerves, ended up suffering from restless insomnia instead.
Fortunately, there was no third assembly.
Around five in the morning, Cheng Feng woke up. She lay there for a moment to gather herself, then carefully got up after about five minutes.
She pressed down the hair that had stuck up from sleep, grabbed breakfast from the robot beside her, and started walking up the mountain while eating.
Although this was a team task, she still wanted to try – within a single day – whether she could complete this assessment on her own.
