First Battlefield Commander! - Chapter 124
Chapter 124: Young
Lian Sheng went to the side to choose a running track, took a deep breath, and continued her frog jumps, high knees, and sprints.
The number of people in the field had doubled compared to yesterday, and it was much livelier. Some were ruthlessly sent to the second floor due to limited equipment. The rest dispersed to perform targeted strengthening exercises for various body parts as required.
This training session was more varied than yesterday's.
Zhao Zhuoluo and other leading students carried twenty-kilogram loads, running lap after lap nearby. A group of penalized students followed behind, trying to keep up with their pace but were ultimately left behind.
The shooting platform in the middle of the field had been lowered, cleared, and reconfigured into a simple layout. Many members of Team Two were doing push-ups or pull-ups there.
Team Two's sniper performance was generally weaker in comparison. The instructor believed it was due to insufficient arm strength, causing unstable gun handling, so they were assigned mostly arm exercises.
During the earlier sprints, they had exhausted their leg muscles, so arm training now wasn't too strenuous for them. They stretched vigorously while discussing the previous matches—exchanging experiences, reflecting on their shortcomings, and summarizing strategies for the next battle. This included how to allocate speed, utilize the red line, and any special techniques for shooting.
Competition seemed to permeate every corner. They were truly racing against time, not daring to waste a second.
The momentum of the penalized students was high, creating a bustling atmosphere.
Of course, this had nothing to do with Lian Sheng.
She continued her weak, sluggish jumps on the periphery, her mind precisely calculating time and stamina while her body gradually caught up.
Every time the instructor glanced at her, he wanted to kick her.
Maintaining enthusiasm should be the normal state. Earlier, he had vaguely mentioned sensor training upstairs to mislead the students intentionally.
Having been young once, he knew how tempting mechs were to them—both for their mystery and their power. They were things they had once burned the midnight oil to catch a glimpse of.
However, although this was an important military base with many Expeditionary Force reserves, there were no mechs for students to touch. They were only preparing to guide them based on their usual training as much as possible.
But reality didn't affect these clueless youths.
Look at these youngsters—what great performances! And then look at Lian Sheng—what terrible fighting spirit!
Was he like this at twenty? Didn't he know that impulsiveness and foolishness were the privileges of youth?
After jumping for a while, Lian Sheng sat down to rest again. Her training sets were short, so she wasn't in a hurry.
Zhao Zhuoluo completed his penalty run, swiped his card, reported to the instructor, and prepared to head to the fourth floor.
As he moved, the room fell eerily silent. The students stared at him with complex expressions, wanting to witness the first warrior emerge from this trial.
Zhao Zhuoluo rubbed his short hair and stopped beside Lian Sheng, bending down to whisper, "Stop delaying. Finish the tasks here quickly and go upstairs."
Lian Sheng looked up.
Zhao Zhuoluo explained, "Training will gradually be divided into batches. I think you already know. Continuously increasing the difficulty doesn't mean much for the first batch. The instructors will keep changing the training content."
Zhao Zhuoluo added, "The previous alternating running and combat training selected a hundred people in two rounds. This attack-and-defense shooting training has also gone through two rounds."
"First, it was endurance and combat ability, then explosive power and shooting skills. He mentioned the fourth floor is for sensor training. I think the next step will be single-item assessments of physical fitness, gradually differentiating the students." Zhao Zhuoluo touched behind his ear. "This morning was already the second round of shooting training. There are still students from earlier on the second floor who will slowly move up. We're now running laps around the entire field. Given the numbers, we've reached the limit of the training design, so they'll definitely split into another batch—just not sure how many. Tell Fang Jianchen to hurry up and not fall behind."
Lian Sheng nodded.
Although the instructor said those who completed training could go to the fourth floor, if too many finished, they might be told it was full and sent back—how laughable would that be?
Nearby students strained to eavesdrop, eager for advice from a winner. But the distance was too great, and they couldn't hear clearly.
The instructor squinted from afar and said, "Students who've finished training, hurry upstairs. Don't disrupt the others' enthusiasm here. Or do you want to stay for another set?"
Zhao Zhuoluo lifted his jacket, nodded at her, and jogged out of the training field.
Lian Sheng massaged her thighs with her fists, watching him leave.
Fang Jianchen jumped toward Lian Sheng with a grimace, circling her to finish his remaining meters before sinking to his knees and asking, "What did he say to you?"
Lian Sheng replied, "He told us to hurry with training. He's waiting for you upstairs."
"He didn't even say goodbye to his dad—he came to you instead." Fang Jianchen lamented, "A grown son is like spilled water!"
"A grown son isn't spilled water—he's just too heavy to carry." Lian Sheng pointed at the door. "Look, your dads are leaving one after another. Only you'll stay here."
Fang Jianchen: "..."
Ye Buqing, carrying his jacket over his shoulder, had nearly finished his penalty and was preparing to go to the fourth floor. Seeing them look over, he waved, gestured upward, and nodded with a faint smile.
Fang Jianchen: "..."
"Ah—!" Fang Jianchen rolled on the ground. "This world is just messed up!"
Lian Sheng checked the time. It still fit her plan, so there shouldn't be any surprises. But since Zhao Zhuoluo said so, it was better to finish early to avoid mishaps.
She wasn't particularly fond of this sprint training disguised as shooting practice.
Feeling her leg muscles had recovered somewhat, Lian Sheng got up to continue training.
Whether it was the repair fluid or the recent extreme training, the longer she trained, the more she felt her muscle strength improving.
Places where she should have given up now yielded strength again and again. Without pushing to the brink, she wouldn't have discovered this.
As time passed, the instructor didn't rush them, letting the students allocate their own time and tasks.
He patrolled the field, correcting students' deteriorating form and answering their questions. If someone wanted to chat, he was happy to oblige.
This instructor seemed kind and approachable, always ready to help. Team Two was quickly moved by his gentleness.
The field gradually emptied as more students chose to sit and rest. But once they started resting, they lost their drive. Influenced by those around them, their focus slackened. The latter half of the session was noticeably calmer.
Lian Sheng ignored it all, gritting her teeth as she stretched her muscles again.
Through continuous frog jumps, she gained a deep appreciation for frogs' hardships and finally understood why they had such strong hind legs.
Her muscles felt sore and weak, but when she pinched them, they were firm.
She didn't dare force the jumps. Doctor Lin had warned her yesterday—frog jumps were intense lower-body exercises with significant leg training effects, but overdoing them could cause harm, like fractures in the knee cartilage.
Lian Sheng waited for the strain to pass, then squatted again to resume jumping.
The instructor, with nothing better to do, stood beside her, watching and provoking, "This one doesn't count. Do it again."
"This is a frog jump? More like a frog flopping into water. Look at your form—utterly hideous! What is this?" The instructor sneered. "What are you performing? Plop, plop, jumping into water? Show me some height! Some distance! Some power! I didn't ask for stationary frog jumps."
The instructor stood behind her. Since she was a girl, he refrained from kicking her but didn't hold back verbally: "Lean forward, hands behind your back, assume the starting position. Push off with your legs—jump!"
Lian Sheng leaped forward, then stopped.
The instructor followed, directing her step by step. Other students glanced over, their expressions unclear—was it envy or jealousy?
Though the instructor's tone was full of sarcasm and teasing, his attention meant he saw potential in her. And Lian Sheng was indeed the most promising female student, especially given her stamina keeping up with the first batch—worthy of respect.
They looked away, glancing at their own chest badges.
So far behind. Why was there still so much training? On the third day at the base, the first thought about their future wasn't "I can do this" but "Can I do this?"
Was this how strength was forged—through such grueling torment?
Under the instructor's shouts, Lian Sheng finished a segment.
The instructor took off his hat, spinning it playfully, his expression disdainful again. "Stop. Rest first. At this rate, you won't even finish fifty meters in one go. Figure it out—victory is just ahead."
Lian Sheng was nearly done with her twenty-five sets. The frequent training had pushed her to her limit. This time, she hadn't gone to the infirmary mid-session but relied on her own endurance, so by the end, she could only drag through the last few sets.
The instructor checked the time, deemed her fine, and walked away.
At 11:30 a.m., the morning training officially ended. Over half were still struggling.
"Go eat—no more training!" The instructor clapped. "Afternoon shooting training continues as usual, with minor rule adjustments. Listen for instructions. For students who've finished, I'm singling out one person—yes, you, Lian Sheng. Hogging a spot without doing anything? I told you to go upstairs, yet you're still squatting here taking up space. Get your ass upstairs this afternoon!"
Lian Sheng, legs too weak to stand: "..."
The instructor repeated, "Listen up. Those who checked in before 11:30 can report upstairs at noon. The rest will gather here as usual."
Realizing they'd been cut from the first batch, some panicked. One raised a hand. "Instructor, I'm almost done! Give me ten more minutes!"
"Ten minutes my ass! I said go eat—understand?" The instructor roared. "What's the rush? We have arrangements. Just follow orders! No objections—got it?"
He waved. "Everyone—go eat!"
Lian Sheng got up, heading for the cafeteria.
Fang Jianchen, having finished, stayed behind. Mainly fearing a repeat of past incidents, he wanted to wait for Zhao Zhuoluo and the others to return and brief him before going up—for peace of mind.
So the two teamed up, targeting the cafeteria.
They arrived, panting, and looked around but saw no sign of Zhao Zhuoluo or any first-batch students—surprising but not dwelled upon.
They got food, sat down, and performed another round of wolfing it down.
After lunch, Lian Sheng tried to stand, but the aftereffects hit. Every cell in her legs screamed—no way they'd support afternoon training.
She put down her tray, told Fang Jianchen, and headed for the holy infirmary.
After half an hour there, she decided to nap in the dorm.
This time, Lian Sheng finally saw her roommates awake.
She had four.
One had gone home, unable to imagine more grueling training. That morning, she packed up and left the base.
Lian Sheng found it regrettable.
To her, the hardest part was already over. The so-called progressive difficulty was relative. For Lian Sheng, the recent twenty-five sprint sets paled compared to their first day's six-hour weighted jog.
She'd survived those six hours but had been paralyzed by their terror.
She'd faced the worst, which stole her hope for the future.
The second was the girl who trained with her that morning.
Seeing Lian Sheng enter, the girl glanced up, then down again, silent. She sat on her bed applying ointment.
The last was the one who'd woken her that morning—the same who'd cried during the run and complained. She was struggling to remove her socks, stuck to her feet.
Lian Sheng sat on her bed's edge, watching her slow movements. "How was this morning? Tough?"
"Yeah, mornings are the worst—six hours of running." The girl smiled up. "But I got three wins today and soaked in repair fluid. Our medic was thrilled—finally putting it to use. Felt accomplished, got some rest, so it wasn't as bad as before."
She removed one sock, tossed it aside, and carefully stepped on her shoe with the bare foot, starting on the other.
Prolonged running had rubbed her soles raw, leaving blisters. Over time, the wounds fused with flesh—peeling the sock tore off fresh scabs.
Lian Sheng had had blisters too, but watching someone else peel them was agonizing. She winced audibly.
The girl: "..."
"Stop that!" The girl halted. "You're making me hesitate!"
Lian Sheng turned away. "Go on."
The girl asked, "What about you? How was the third floor?"
The one applying ointment interjected, "She's already on the fourth."
"Wow, so fast!" The girl gaped at her enviously. "That's amazing. You're really something."
Lian Sheng said, "You're the amazing one. I couldn't do six hours with weights. The later stuff is easier."
The girl applying ointment said nothing, giving her a meaningful look before lying down.
The other girl eyed the empty bed and smiled bitterly. "No need to comfort me."
Of the four, only she remained at the starting point.
Lian Sheng and the other's presence stripped her of excuses about unfair training. Since they'd advanced, it was just her not being good enough.
It was as if everyone had their own path—they weren't even heading the same way.
With one gone, she wavered, wondering if she'd been overconfident, if she should wake up and leave too.
"Do I really belong here?" she murmured. "I'm just dragging everyone down. Even if I make the mech selection, I won't last long. The finals? Forget it."
Lian Sheng asked, "Then why did you sign up?"
"Why?" The girl pondered, finally freeing her sock. She perched her feet on a basin's edge, rinsing them carefully. "To prove myself. So others wouldn't look down on us."
She looked up. "There are few girls in military school. Not to boast, but I'm among the better ones. I wanted to show them they could do better. That this isn't just a man's world—that it's not so scary."
Lian Sheng asked, "Did you succeed?"
"Of course not." The girl laughed self-deprecatingly to mask her embarrassment, then shrugged. "I was just impulsive. I did prove my skill—mediocre as it is."
She'd wanted to prove it wasn't scary, only to find it terrifying.
Before her were insurmountable walls. From the start, she'd fallen behind.
The gap—she saw it, unreachable even on tiptoe.
"If you haven't succeeded, keep trying. You're far from the time to doubt." Lian Sheng said. "Impulsiveness isn't bad. Charging ahead with passion isn't something everyone experiences. It might not bring results, but it's always valuable."
Lian Sheng adjusted her pillow, lying down to nap, hands behind her head. "What you can do, what you want to do, and what you should do—these are different, but they intersect. As you grow, learn to weigh pros and cons, become shrewder, smarter, you'll hesitate. You'll miss chances to act, chances to pursue. Without this impulsiveness, you'd only do what you should. So this impulsiveness—that's youth."
Lian Sheng turned her head. "Does anyone think youth is bad?"
She often wondered what she'd done in her youth, what she could do now.
She loved that past self—brash, fearless, ignorant. How many people, worn slick and sharp by time, had once been so boldly ambitious?
"You..." The girl blinked at her. "You sound so mature."
Lian Sheng lifted her chin. "Is that wrong? If you quit now, would you ever dare to be impulsive again?"
The girl shook her head. "You're right. I've barely started—no need for doubts. The pain means I can still improve. I feel myself getting better these past days. And I'm not the worst—those behind me haven't quit, so neither will I."
Lian Sheng smiled. "Isn't that good?"
The girl lifted her foot, a large patch of skin gone. She touched it lightly.
If she held on, maintained this intensity, calluses would form, preventing such easy damage.
If she held on.
She applied ointment, lay down quietly, and prepared to nap.
Want to dive deeper into the story? You can request bonus chapters or grab the complete Part 1 (147 chapters) as an EPUB from my Ko-fi shop!
Ty for the update!
ReplyDelete