Cheng Feng blankly stared at the screen of her optical computer, when she suddenly heard Shen Dan violently push the door open and storm in.
She casually let her hand drop, and Shen Dan happened to catch a glimpse of Tao Rui’s photo on the screen.
Shen Dan still had her hand on the door, halfway through closing it, when she asked with the grim tone of someone catching a thief red-handed. “What are you searching him for? Are you thinking of taking care of another dog?!”
Cheng Feng said, “His scholarship is really high.”
Shen Dan pushed the door shut with a flick of her wrist, walked over, and snatched Cheng Feng’s optical computer. After skimming through it quickly, she sneered, “Tch. What’s so great about that? It’s all made up.”
She pointed at herself, looking proud as she exposed Tao Rui’s secrets. “I know how much his scholarship really is – it’s not as exaggerated as that. Let me tell you, he’s secretly jacking up his own price. Totally shameless!”
The senior nearby, who was rushing to finish her homework, turned her head toward them. But before she could listen in, the girl across from her reached out and pressed her back down.
Training was intense enough – no need to get involved in an argument between elementary schoolers.
Cheng Feng pulled over a nearby chair, gestured for Shen Dan to sit down, and asked earnestly, “So what’s the real amount, then?”
Shen Dan said proudly, “Only about half. About the same as my worth.”
She emphasized with a stressed tone, “We’re about the same!”
But instead of admiration or awe, a trace of loneliness appeared on Cheng Feng’s face.
She was too poor, too cheap – not even worth a fraction of what others had.
Shen Dan asked, “What’s wrong?”
Cheng Feng shook her head, turned around, and started editing a text message to Mr. Kong.
Ye Guicheng: [Image]
Mr. Kong: …
Mr. Kong: That’s not even close to the real amount. Besides, Tao Rui is part of their Command Department.
Ye Guicheng: [Oh]
Cheng Feng then pulled up Mr. Luo’s account and sent him a message.
Ye Guicheng: [Image]
Mr. Luo: … Fake.
Ye Guicheng: Shen Dan told me the real amount is only about half. [Image]
Mr. Luo: The school decides based on academic history. Look, you failed your culture subjects, and you’ve never won any major awards before.
Ye Guicheng: [Image]
Mr. Luo: Your training instructor at the base also told me you couldn’t even remember your course instructors’ names. What’s that about? I covered for you.
Ye Guicheng: [Image]
Cheng Feng had a clear goal and stood her ground. Mr. Luo typed a few words but took a long time to reply.
He probably found that image too hard to ignore – it tarnished the wealthy, prestigious image of the UFU’s Command Department. After thinking it over for a moment, Mr. Luo still ended up adding a little to Cheng Feng’s worth.
Mr. Luo: If you successfully complete the base training program, I’ll apply to the school for a raise of five thousand per semester.
Ye Guicheng: [Howl’s Approval]
Cheng Feng was greatly encouraged!
Completing the training program? How hard could that be?
She closed the interface, logged into the base’s internal network, and decided to finish that analysis report overnight.
Diligent people never leave their homework for the next day!
The next morning, Cheng Feng didn’t get up until past nine due to staying up late. The training building was eerily quiet. She went out to eat and barely saw anyone, and the dormitory area was also empty.
After asking around in the group chat, she found out that most students had gone up the mountain to refine their models, while a small number were in the third-floor computer lab rushing to finish their analysis reports.
With no tasks left on her plate, Cheng Feng had nothing to do. Dark circles under her eyes, she discussed it with Shen Dan and decided to just take a look around the building and practice some new modeling techniques on the side.
Most of the training base was a restricted red zone. The two of them skirted the boundary for a long time and unexpectedly came across the livestock farm the instructor had mentioned.
Although it was just a small pig farm invested in by the village – and due to budget constraints, they hadn’t been able to purchase advanced smart farming equipment – it still looked pretty decent from the outside. Standing at a distance, they didn’t smell any escaping odor, which meant sanitation was reasonably well managed.
Cheng Feng wanted to go inside for a look, but Shen Dan firmly pulled her back.
Shen Dan felt that sometimes, you just can’t ignore superstition. Places like pig farms, she believed, should be passed three times without ever setting foot inside. After all, the duration of the intensive training was still uncertain – for all they knew, the second half of it might end up being tied to this very place.
Cheng Feng found her words a bit unsettling. Seeing that it was getting late, she tugged Shen Dan along and hurried back.
At six in the evening, the weary-looking students gathered in the classroom on time.
The instructor had already been sitting at the podium, grading the students’ assignments. Her expression was calm, betraying neither approval nor displeasure. Only when the bell rang did she look up at them and ask in a gentle voice, “You’ve had a day off. How do you feel?”
The students lifted their exhausted faces and gave her a sweet smile.
The instructor seemed as if she didn’t have eyes at all. She nodded and said, “Looks like you’re doing pretty well.”
The smiles on the students’ faces instantly stiffened.
The instructor tapped twice on her optical computer and said, “Everyone has submitted the analysis report from the last lesson. I’ve scrambled the names and schools and randomly sent them to your terminals. Please grade your fellow students’ reports according to your own style and preferences.”
Cheng Feng downloaded the document and found that she had received a report from a third-year senior at UMU. The email also included a brief set of point-by-point grading guidelines.
She found the task quite novel. She read through the reference items three or four times, memorized and understood each one, and only then began to officially evaluate the other student’s report.
It turned out that students cultivated under different educational systems, when faced with the highly subjective task of analysis – even with a general framework to follow – would still produce vastly different results.
The timing of their screenshots, their strategies for counter-assessment, and the points they focused on all varied considerably.
Analyzing someone else’s analysis report was a task that revealed the other person’s style and preferences. It was very interesting.
Cheng Feng slowed down, reading sentence by sentence, trying hard to understand the data analyst’s thinking on warfare from a fourth-party perspective. But she had only gotten halfway through her review when she received a notification of a new email.
The student who had received her report had already graded it.
Cheng Feng paused briefly, temporarily exited the interface, and clicked on the feedback file.
The grader was Tao Rui.
Cheng Feng’s gaze moved downward.
Score: 75.
Cheng Feng’s expression visibly darkened. The corner of her mouth twitched, and she let out a very displeased “Tch.”
The instructor relaxed into her chair, her gaze drifting vaguely in Cheng Feng’s direction. She gave a slight nod and said gently, “Discussion is allowed.”
Cheng Feng immediately stood up, bent down with force, and slapped her palm on the opposite side of the table. “Why did I only get 75? I covered all the grading points.”
Tao Rui was sitting right across from her. He looked up at her question and said, “Your style doesn’t match my criteria. Most of the content I was looking for wasn’t there. The instructor said to grade according to our own habits, so I could only give you a 75.”
Cheng Feng took a deep breath and asked, “Where’s your paper?”
A few rows away, a student raised their hand. “I have it.”
Cheng Feng strode over quickly, borrowed the student’s optical computer, and quickly scanned through the entire report from start to finish. She focused mainly on the various data screenshots and the mech modeling.
The instructor changed her posture, straightened up, and grew noticeably interested. She rested her chin on her crossed hands and quietly watched them.
Five minutes later, Cheng Feng looked up. Every feature on her face radiated disapproval, like she was looking at a little kid playing in the mud.
“Fancy and flashy.”
Tao Rui’s analysis report was a full dozen pages longer than Cheng Feng’s, covering massive amounts of statistical data. What stood out especially were the targeted recommendations in the latter half – he had proposed many countermeasures that made Cheng Feng frown just reading them.
It was the first time Cheng Feng had encountered someone so verbose. Things that could be resolved with a single, decisive strike, he wrote up in an unnecessarily complicated way.
Cheng Feng asked with certainty, “You don’t know how to fight at all, do you?”
Tao Rui replied without changing his expression, “The essence of data analysis is to follow the data, not your crude personal judgment. You’re a deputy commander, not a solo fighter. You shouldn’t let your personal experience override too much.”
Countless question marks seemed to pop up over Cheng Feng’s head.
“Your so-called ‘following the data’ leads to the conclusion that mechs should zigzag in a snake-like pattern?”
Tao Rui stood up as well, turning to face her directly, and enunciated clearly. “That is to ensure the protection of the Alliance’s assets. The integrity of the mech should be preserved as much as possible.”
“Have you assessed the risks of this kind of maneuver?” Cheng Feng asked. “To ensure the mech’s integrity, you deliberately prolong the battle, putting the pilot in a relatively passive situation. In your evaluation criteria earlier, this aspect also carried a lot of weight. You–”
Cheng Feng couldn’t exactly accuse him of being overly concerned about property, since she actually cared about it a lot herself.
She pulled the screen up a bit, looked up, and said, “Besides, I don’t think my method would necessarily damage the mech.”
Tao Rui’s tone turned a bit cold. “I believe every mech pilot should take good care of their mech. And I also believe that any infantry qualified to pilot a mech is fully capable of following the recommendations I gave. Your operational suggestions might not necessarily damage the mech, but I didn’t see any consideration of that on your part. Your approach is concise, direct, and brutish. I can’t give a high score to your combat style.”
This was the second time Cheng Feng had heard the word “brutish” come out of his mouth. She was already grinding her teeth.
Shen Dan was about to say a few words to comfort her. Dealing with Tao Rui – aside from praying to the gods – required staying calm and composed. Why make things hard on yourself?
Then Tao Rui suddenly turned to Shen Dan and said something genuinely provocative. “Shen Dan’s analysis report is very comprehensive. For a data analyst, whether you can fight or not isn’t the most important thing. What matters most is whether you can coordinate resources and weigh interests. As for other issues, they should be left to the infantries.”
Shen Dan leaned back slightly with a bewildered expression, unsure why he was lumping her into his camp.
“That depends on what you mean by ‘interests,'” Cheng Feng said. “Even when it’s dangerous, leave it to the infantries?”
Tao Rui asked, “Isn’t that how it should be?”
