Chapter 15: The Mess Hall, Wang Erpang, and the Martial Realm

As an experienced military household head, Zhou Bo was well aware of the various rules and intricacies within the barracks. He had deliberately reserved a spot for a military slave. This way, Xia He wouldn’t have to be assigned to the harsh mess hall camp like the other displaced people. Though he couldn’t immediately shed his lowly status, his chances were clearly better.

Xia He instantly understood. Even as a mere military slave, if he stayed by Zhou Bo’s side, he could receive guidance in martial arts since Zhou Bo had once been a martial artist in his youth.

“That bastard actually gave away our military household quota to that woman because he wanted to satisfy his lust… He must have been deceived. I’ll go find him right now!” Zhou Bo, who had fathered a child late in life, was furious that his son, still unmarried, had taken a liking to a local courtesan in town. When Zhou Bo found out, he was seething with anger, but he never expected his son to secretly give his military household spot to that woman.

Xia He took it in stride, knowing Zhou Bo had already been extremely kind to him, and felt some gratitude. Following Zhou Bo out of the room, he quickly reassured him, “Zhou Bo, please don’t worry about this. I’ll go to the mess hall camp. I believe with effort, there will be a way out.”

Hearing this, Zhou Bo sighed deeply. “Child, you don’t understand. Once you enter the mess hall camp, no one will guide you carefully anymore. Your future martial path will be entirely up to you to explore on your own. Moreover, the daily chores there are numerous; it won’t be easy to stand out.”

He looked at Xia He with a complex expression, worry deep in his eyes. Zhou Bo valued Xia He because he had managed to hunt a giant python alone, indicating some innate talent, which sparked Zhou Bo’s affection for him. However, those hopes were dashed. Military slaves could not be replaced at will unless by death or illness.

“There’s no other choice!” Zhou Bo said. “But don’t be too discouraged. Even in the mess hall camp, the monthly pay is five qian of silver, though…”

Five qian of silver, about 500 wen, was actually not bad.

“Zhou Bo, if I join the mess hall camp, am I sure to have a chance to learn martial arts?” Xia He had joined the army precisely to study martial arts. If the mess hall camp offered no such opportunity, he would have to reconsider.

“Yes! But the instructor is not a martial artist and only teaches the basics. If you make no progress within a month, you’ll be stuck as a mess hall soldier for life.”

“How can I become a military household?”

Zhou Bo was surprised. He hadn’t expected Xia He to have such ambition.

“To become a military household, you need to kill three heads of the southern barbarians!”

“Besides that, as I told you before, you must become a martial artist before thirty.”

Xia He pondered. It shouldn’t be difficult. He wouldn’t encounter the southern barbarians for now, but at just over twenty years old, becoming a martial artist within ten years was plausible. If not, there was no point in continuing, especially with his skills.

Zhou Bo sighed and left, and Xia He officially registered with the mess hall camp. He received a rusty old knife and a manual of basic martial arts techniques. Armor was reserved only for military households.

The yellowed, worn booklet bore the title "Basic Martial Techniques for Soldiers." Xia He took a deep breath and finally felt at ease. From now on, he was officially a low-ranking soldier of the Qin Dynasty.

“One month — only this much time.”

Clenching his fist, Xia He resolved that if he couldn’t rise to general by merit, at least he wouldn’t remain a mere mess hall soldier forever.

He learned that the mess hall camp, though a battalion in name, was essentially a kitchen squad, responsible for all the camp’s chores, cooking, farming, and horse tending—it was a miserable fate.

Following directions, he arrived at a large courtyard, the place where their training would take place.

“Besides basic fist forms, this ‘Basic Martial Techniques for Soldiers’ even includes a saber technique?”

After enrollment, instructors would be sent to teach them martial skills. Monthly assessments would determine if they could leave the mess hall camp. It was essentially a competitive exam, with very few spots available for promotion.

Entering the mess hall, Xia He was greeted by warmth and the mingled scents of food and the noise of people. The cramped space was packed with two or three dozen men, mostly thin, poorly clad, and weary-faced, evidently displaced townsfolk.

Though older men had also tried to enlist, they had been rejected; the military was no place for idlers.

As Xia He looked around, a chubby little man suddenly squeezed up to him, beaming with a wide smile, and introduced himself warmly.

“Brother, I’m Wang Erpang. I’ve heard of your name for a long time!”

Xia He was taken aback. “You know me?”

“Yes, brother, you’re famous in town now. Yesterday when you came back carrying that giant python, wow! I couldn’t take my eyes off it! Amazing!”

“Alright, don’t call me brother anymore. My name is Xia He. Just call me by my name from now on.”

“Okay, Brother He. Was your ancestor a hunter? You look naturally strong!”

Wang Erpang reached out to poke Xia He’s muscles, his familiarity making Xia He a bit uncomfortable. From their conversation, Xia He learned that Wang’s father had been a military slave who died in battle alongside his military household during a campaign, so like Xia He, Wang could only join the mess hall camp.

“Brother He, did you just get this manual?”

“Sigh, my father made me memorize this when I first learned to read, but I still only remember half of it…”

Xia He raised an eyebrow. “So you’ve trained in martial arts?”

“Kind of. The first three stages are Skin Refinement, Blood Refinement, and Bone Refinement.”

“You’ve heard of our final mess hall camp assessment, right? The requirement is to reach a small accomplishment in Skin Refinement!”

“Only Skin Refinement? So easy? What about Blood and Bone Refinement?”

“Brother He, it’s not easy at all! I heard our instructor has only reached Skin Refinement. Blood Refinement means you can officially be called a martial artist—something even military households might not achieve. Bone Refinement is for the rank of a hundred-household commander, basically an officer!”

“I see! So the threshold to be a soldier is Skin Refinement? Otherwise, you’re stuck doing chores forever?”

“Pretty much.”

Wang’s face suddenly turned sour. “Sigh, it’s not that simple! Martial arts require talent. My father said I was broad-shouldered and strong, and forced me to practice boxing before dawn, but I’m over twenty and still haven’t reached Skin Refinement…”

Xia He looked at the pudgy man whose face clouded at the mention of martial arts. Did he not know why? With such a precious chance to learn martial arts, how could he not cherish it? Thinking of Skin Refinement, maybe shedding some of that fat would be a good start.

It seemed that if Wang’s father hadn’t died in battle, he might have just resigned himself to a life of idleness.