On the training field.
More than two-thirds of the people were sprawled out on the ground.
About one-third of them were simply too exhausted to continue. The rest had given up from the very beginning.
For those folks, being a soldier was just a way to get fed—or worse, they'd been forced into conscription.
Only the final one-third were still grinding it out.
Among them, Chen Sanshi was the fastest. He'd already reached the twenty-fifth stance.
Second place was the teenager with the special breathing method, who made it to seventeen.
Third was a burly man with a thick beard—he'd barely pushed through to twelve stances.
These three had started practicing the moment they got the manual the night before.
The rest? The fastest of them had only managed seven stances so far.
'Seems like [Archery (Mastery)] really did boost my constitution a lot!'
Chen Sanshi hadn't expected the [Born Archer] trait to help him so much with martial training. He wondered what the next advancement might bring.
The teen and the bearded man both kept sneaking glances his way, like they were trying to compete.
'Compete your ass.'
Chen Sanshi rolled his eyes.
When he hit the twenty-sixth stance, his strength started to give out, so he stopped.
It wasn't laziness. He just knew better—haste makes waste.
Forcing himself past the limit might cause real damage and backfire.
As soon as he quit, the teenager and the bearded guy dropped soon after, completely drained.
"Hey, what's your name?"
The bearded man wiped off his sweat and asked between heavy breaths.
"Chen Sanshi," he replied.
"Chen Sanshi?"
The guy blinked. "From Swallow-Edge Village?"
Chen Sanshi raised an eyebrow. "You know me?"
The man laughed heartily. "Who doesn't know the loyal hunter from Swallow-Edge Village?"
'Seriously?'
Chen Sanshi found it odd.
Loyal and righteous—was he talking about that time he helped Shunzi's father?
But that was just two taels of silver. Hardly worth a reputation.
"You helped your sworn brother Zhang Shun's sick old mother, even though she beat and cursed you for owing two qian of silver, and she even tried to sell your wife to Qin Xiong to pay the debt. And you still risked your life, pulling out five taels of silver to save her—even with martial hall disciples breathing down your neck!"
The man thumped his chest hard. "In this day and age, where do you find that kind of loyalty and righteousness? I respect you, brother!"
"…?"
Chen Sanshi was completely lost.
Sure, he and Shunzi grew up together—but when did they become sworn brothers?
And Aunt Li beating him? Selling Lan jie'er to Qin Xiong?
How did that even get twisted into this?
Someone had seriously run wild with the gossip...
'So this is what they mean by "the story grows in the telling."'
"The name's Zhu. Just one character—Tong!"
Zhu Tong cupped his fists. "If you don't mind, I'll call you Brother Chen from now on!"
Chen Sanshi returned the salute politely.
The teenager walked over as well. "I'm Song Yan. You're really fast at picking up the stances. Impressive."
"You're not bad either," Chen Sanshi replied.
Zhu Tong shot the teen a dirty look. "Ignore this brat."
Chen Sanshi frowned. "Brother Zhu, what's that about?"
Before Zhu Tong could explain, Song Yan jumped in. "Your manuals are missing parts. Mine isn't. That's because Hundred-Household Luo is my second uncle—he taught me early. If you guys want to learn the rest, just pay eight taels of silver and ask any of the other Hundred-Household Officers."
"You've got some nerve saying that out loud!"
Zhu Tong had seen this kid hanging out with Luo just yesterday. He'd overheard them talking about breathing techniques or something.
"Thanks for the tip," Chen Sanshi said with a nod.
Just as he suspected.
Song Yan nodded back, then went to sit on a step and rest.
Zhu Tong pulled a stuffed flatbread from his coat and handed it over.
Chen Sanshi didn't hold back. He ate as they chatted casually, getting to know each other's backgrounds.
Zhu Tong was a butcher from Zhu Family Village. Not long ago, he beat up a local gentry for harassing a widow. He nearly got sentenced to hard labor in the southern provinces, and it cost his family more than half their savings to have the punishment changed to conscription in his home county.
"Old Zhu, give me one of those flatbreads too."
As the two chatted, a hand suddenly reached toward Zhu Tong's chest pocket. Zhu slapped it away hard. "Get lost!"
Chen Sanshi looked up and saw the culprit—it was the same middle-aged man who had explained the meaning of "Elite Selection" earlier. He looked to be around fifty, with streaks of white already showing in his hair.
Zhu Tong said impatiently, "This is Xu Wencai, the famous lazybones from Zhu Family Village."
Xu Wencai bristled. "Hey, who are you calling lazy?"
"You either laze around at home all day doing nothing, or you wander about begging for food. Your old mother's been the one farming and feeding you. If you're not a lazy bum, then who is?"
Zhu Tong snorted. "And look at you now—your mother's dead, no one left to work the fields or make money, you couldn't pay your taxes, so you got shoved into the army to make up the numbers."
Those who couldn't pay their taxes were often conscripted too.
As for Zhang Shun being sent off to dig canals, that was just because he'd offended the wrong people.
"You… you're spouting nonsense!" Xu Wencai shouted indignantly. "At home, I read ten thousand books! When I travel, I walk ten thousand li! I'm a man destined for great things!"
Zhu Tong spat. "You even gave yourself the nickname 'Wolong,' but you couldn't even pass the first-level scholar exam. And you've got the nerve to brag?"
"You… fine! Before I leave, can I at least get a bite of bread?" Xu Wencai muttered pitifully.
He hadn't eaten in two days.
In recent years, unless there was a war, the garrison didn't even provide food.
If they did feed the soldiers properly, no one would've avoided joining the army.
"Pathetic fool," Zhu Tong said, though he finally tossed a flatbread at him.
Xu Wencai immediately lit up, running to the side with the bread in one hand and pulling out a book with the other, munching while reading with visible delight.
Chen Sanshi noticed his heavy bundle on the ground—it was full of books, so much so that it bent the old scholar's back when he carried it.
"Brother Xu," Chen Sanshi said, taking the initiative, "could I borrow one of your books? I'll return it after I finish."
He only had one book left at home, and rereading it barely increased his [Reading] proficiency anymore. Buying new ones would cost too much—and he'd need silver for martial training soon.
"No."
Xu Wencai didn't even think before rejecting him.
"…"
Chen Sanshi hesitated, then tried again. "Xu Wolong, lend me one. I promise I'll return it without a single page damaged."
"Kh—" Xu Wencai almost choked on his bread. He asked, "What did you just call me?"
"Xu Wolong. I said, I'd like to borrow a book," Chen Sanshi repeated seriously.
"Hmm~"
Xu Wencai closed his eyes in satisfaction. "Now that's the proper way to speak. You must be a fellow man of letters."
"That's right," Chen Sanshi admitted. "I used to be a scholar myself. Studied for years but never passed the scholar exam. Couldn't make a living, so I joined the army."
"Really?" Xu Wencai's eyes brightened.
"Really," Chen Sanshi nodded firmly.
"Ha! I knew it!" Xu Wencai pounded his chest indignantly. "The imperial exams of the Great Sheng Dynasty are utter nonsense! Testing empty essays—what's the point? True talent like ours gets buried alive! Here, take your pick—read whatever you want!"
He dumped his whole bundle on the ground, revealing an astonishing variety of books—poetry, historical texts, novels, even strange tales and folklore.
"If it weren't for selling off my books to buy my mother's coffin, I'd still have a house full of them!"
"…"
Chen Sanshi chose one at random. "Thanks, Xu Wolong."
The garrison didn't provide meals.
By dusk, the soldiers usually went home to eat.
Chen Sanshi gathered his things, and before leaving, he went to find Xu Bin to ask if he could get a heavy bow.
Now that he'd seen how much [Archery (Mastery)] improved his physique, he knew he couldn't afford to let his archery practice lapse—not even for a day.