Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Bai Luming felt several gazes from the reviewing stand but had no intention of tending to the colonels' well-being. Seeing that both he and He Yilan had achieved passing scores, he left the training ground without a second thought.

It had to be admitted that, based on their performance, their luck was truly remarkable—one barely scraped by, the other made a last-minute save. Yet, neither mentioned their shooting results again. They simply returned to their dorm, showered, and washed away the day's sweat.

Bai Luming lay on his bed, flipping through a military magazine issued by the fortress. Hearing the door open, he looked up just in time to see He Yilan emerging from the shower.

Bai Luming’s gaze swept over He Yilan’s damp, dark hair, and it seemed only then that he remembered to ask, "How was training today?"

He Yilan: "Alright."

A faint smile touched Bai Luming’s lips. "If you ever feel the training is too tough, just let me know."

He Yilan glanced at him. "Can you make training easier?"

Bai Luming replied, "No, but I can offer a few comforting words to provide emotional support."

After a brief silence, He Yilan stated, "You not talking would be emotional support enough."

Bai Luming rested his hands behind his head, leaning comfortably against the headboard. His long legs stretched out and crossed casually, swaying lazily with his mood. "Can't say for sure."

He checked the time and yawned lazily. "Whoa, it’s this late already. Time to sleep."

The two of them rested peacefully in their dorm that night, but others weren’t so fortunate.

Early the next morning, during assembly, the dark circles under many cadets' eyes were strikingly visible. Rumor had it that nearly half of them had been kept after yesterday’s shooting training and weren’t released until daybreak.

Bai Luming nudged He Yilan with his elbow and sighed sincerely, "Good thing we got lucky."

He Yilan: "Quite lucky."

The instructor’s appearance on the training ground immediately silenced the surrounding chatter. Today’s training focused on physical fitness. Everyone changed into standard-issue military uniforms and, under the instructor’s arrangement, quickly collected their assigned weighted packs before starting a long-distance run around the fortress’s perimeter.

Like the previous day’s shooting course, the physical training also had set requirements. Everyone was required to complete 10 laps within the allotted time, and those who failed would face consequences.

It was clear that the previous day’s extra training had the cadets spooked. As soon as the whistle blew, figures shot off like arrows.

Bai Luming initially intended to follow the main group but, catching sight of He Yilan falling behind, slowed his pace and dropped back. He asked skillfully, "Do you think our luck will hold today?"

The angle of this question could be described as both tricky and clever.

He Yilan glanced at Bai Luming. At first, he didn’t plan to answer, but under that intense gaze, he finally replied, "Could be."

Bai Luming’s eyes showed a hint of surprise. "You don't say!"

He Yilan: "..."

These two instances of "could be" were clearly not in the same context.

After a moment, He Yilan asked sincerely, "Did I do something before that gave you a certain one-sided, stereotypical impression?"

Bai Luming jogged alongside him and smiled. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it seems from the very start, your attitude toward me has been very... particular." He Yilan spoke slowly. "Don’t tell me it’s just my imagination."

Their conversation was punctuated by faint panting as they ran. Bai Luming could feel He Yilan’s gaze on him.

He wasn’t at all surprised by the other’s perceptiveness and answered without hesitation, "It’s indeed not my imagination. I’ve always been quick to judge by looks. It’s common for me to go weak in the knees at the sight of someone good-looking. You’ll get used to it."

"..." Well aware that this person was always full of nonsense, He Yilan’s steps still hesitated slightly for a moment before he resumed. "Players tend to confess to everyone like that."

Bai Luming sounded puzzled. "Wait, that counts as a confession?"

He Yilan glanced at Bai Luming’s profile from the corner of his eye. "Sounds even more player-like."

Bai Luming: "..."

They started late and were way behind the main group after the first lap. But soon, as the second and third laps concluded, those who had started out fast initially began to tire. Gradually, Bai Luming and He Yilan overtook from the back. Just half a minute before the time limit, they completed the tenth lap and reached the finish line.

Cadets who had passed the task were already lying haphazardly on the ground, resembling a fresh crime scene.

Bai Luming grabbed some water, tilted his head back, and gulped several mouthfuls. The coolness made his skin tense up instinctively, and sweat traced the lines of his face down to his collarbone.

The dazzling sunlight fell along his straight back, perfectly outlining his narrow waist and long legs in the shadow on the ground.

Compared to the other pale-faced cadets, Bai Luming’s complexion remained relatively normal. Still, noticing his still-heaving chest from the corner of his eye, he quietly smirked and turned to walk away.

Bai Luming headed straight toward the figure under the tree shade. He tapped the other’s forehead with an unopened water bottle and asked sincerely, "You dead yet?"

He Yilan’s gaze emerged from beneath his dark, damp hair. He reached out to take the bottle, his voice low and hoarse. "Still kicking."

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the faintly bulging veins on his arms from the intense training, making his muscle definition stand out. Drenched in sweat, he looked as if he’d been fished out of water, but even leaning weakly against the tree trunk, he didn’t appear too disheveled.

After finishing the bottle, the overall heat in his body subsided slightly. He Yilan looked up at Bai Luming, who seemed perfectly fine. "Here to provide emotional value?"

"Yes, you’re amazing!" Bai Luming’s emotional value was both ample and perfunctory. "And pretty sharp. We passed again today. Our luck remains as good as ever."

As he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on He Yilan, the smile on his face hiding his thoughtful expression.

Bai Luming truly hadn’t expected Mr. He to complete such physical training. It seemed living up to a prominent family's name was no easy feat—at the very least, this level of perseverance and endurance far exceeded his expectations.

What surprised him even more was the process of today’s training.

Bai Luming had deliberately stayed by He Yilan’s side throughout the run. The entire time, he could sense that this person had an uncannily precise understanding of his own physical limits. He Yilan had clearly calculated perfectly, ensuring he exhausted his stamina just enough to cross the finish line right at the passing mark.

A frightening level of control, as if everything could be firmly grasped.

Bai Luming remembered that the last person who gave him this sense of inhuman precision was a certain commander from the Red Feather Army.

Shaking off his thoughts, Bai Luming glanced at He Yilan’s pale face and, with a moment of consideration, took two steps forward, offering his hand. "Need a hand up?"

His slender fingers were well-defined, and under the soft daylight, faint calluses from years past were visible, yet they didn’t detract from the good looks.

He Yilan’s mind flashed back to the day of the shooting lesson—this hand resting on the gun handle, its relaxed yet firm lines full of pent-up intensity ready to explode at any moment.

After a brief pause, he grasped Bai Luming’s hand and pushed himself up. "Thanks."

Bai Luming helped him up and naturally guided He Yilan to the side, throwing He Yilan’s arm over his own shoulder before starting to walk.

He glanced at He Yilan’s pale face and asked with concern, "You’re not going to collapse halfway, are you?"

He Yilan: "I won’t."

"Never mind, lean on me a bit more."

"...I said I won’t."

"What’s there to be shy about? Listen to me—I'm the one calling the shots."

"…………"

The two tall figures gradually disappeared from view before the gaze from behind the shade of the trees slowly withdrew.

In the top-floor office of the Comprehensive Building, Cleon turned away from the window and resumed the previous topic: "No problem, proceed as planned."

The other person in the office was the director of the New Recruits Department, who hesitated upon hearing this: "But the people from the Nawei Military Region are clearly looking for trouble! They’ve always looked down on our fortress, and now they don’t even want to participate in the exchange matches—they just say they want to 'have some fun' with the new recruits? They might as well write 'half-assed' on their faces!"

Mentioning the people from the Nawei Military Region, others in the room also looked displeased.

Aside from the Four Great Armies, all military regions were divided into nine tiers. Remote and desolate, 6616 Barren Star belonged to the lowest, ninth-tier military region.

The seventh-tier Nawei Military Region, though occasionally engaging in tactical exchanges, had long looked down on their nameless, coded star. This time, the Nawei Military Region had sent personnel as usual but had long delayed the scheduled mock battles. Now, under the pretext of the recruitment period, they proposed taking charge of this new recruit assessment, under the guise of observing the newcomers' quality.

As everyone knew, the assessment for newly enlisted recruits did not include mecha-related content. Though unstated, it was clear the Nawei Fortress personnel did not want their mechas to get worn down during the exchange period, hoping to skirt the usual exchange activities with this so-called new recruit assessment.

Others in the room were equally displeased: "Inter-military exchanges are arranged directly by the central department. No matter how much they look down on us, they have no grounds to refuse. This is clearly about avoiding exposing the capabilities of their new mechas, thinking it’s a waste of resources to conduct drills with us!"

Xiao Nuoya’s face was grim: "We must fight them. The Infantry Department will show them what our military region is capable of!"

Liang Deng slammed the table beside him: "Exactly, they’re only a seventh-tier military region—what gives them the right to act so high and mighty? I can get all our mechas to peak condition in this time, guaranteed not to embarrass our military region."

"At least the two of you are united on this," Cleon decided. "Alright, we’ll proceed as I’ve arranged. Since the Nawei Military Region doesn’t want to engage with us, there’s no need for us to insist. This time, we’ll treat it as them voluntarily pitching in to train the newcomers."

"But this can hardly be considered training newcomers…" an officer nearby worriedly remarked. "The Nawei Military Region is not exactly friendly. Isn’t this too much pressure for those new recruits?"

Others chimed in agreement.

"Exactly, it’s just straight-up bullying!"

"Since it’s newbies versus old-timers anyway, why not transfer a few teams from my division? At least they’d know their limits."

"I think they just want to crush the morale of this batch of newcomers. No, this really won’t do."

"It’s fine. In my opinion, more pressure is better," Cleon said, sitting at his desk and scanning the room. "Which of us here hadn’t taken some hard knocks as newcomers? Enough pressure can better stimulate one’s potential. If they collapse under the Nawei Fortress’s bullying, it just means the military isn’t for them."

At these words, everyone exchanged glances, momentarily unable to rebut.

Sharon from the Command Department spoke up: "Then the assessment will take place half a month from now, with Ji Xinghan as the overall commander for the new recruits. Actually, I don’t think we need to be too pessimistic. In some ways, the assessment rules favor the newcomers. If the Nawei Fortress people take a fall because of these trainees, things could get very interesting."

Liang Deng clapped his hands: "If we really win, I’ll buy interstellar lottery!"

Cleon’s fingertips tapped lightly on the desk amidst the office’s discussion.

He, too, was very curious—once this clash between newbies and old-timers concluded, how many would have their morale broken.