Chapter Thirty-Five: Day of Rest

“New recruits, get up and wash! Assemble at seven thirty!”

Du Huaishan opened his eyes, feeling entirely refreshed. Thanks to Tan Hai’s massage and the foot soak before bed, all the exhaustion and soreness had vanished from his body.

The entire Eighth Squad moved with practiced efficiency: fetching water, washing up, and crowding into the mess hall.

“Godfather! Give me a bit more rice, will you?”

Yang Anfu was the first to go up, grinning shamelessly.

“You rascal, you’ve gotten fat enough already, still want more food!”

The speaker was a heavyset man in his forties with a bulbous, reddish nose. His name was Zhang De, the master cook of the military academy’s canteen, whom they’d met when they were punished to clean the canteen after a previous brawl.

Because Zhang De and Yang Anfu resembled each other in both figure and features, and as Zhang De’s own son had died on the battlefield—leaving him with no one to care for—over time, he grew close to “Fatty Yang” and took him as a godson.

“Uncle Zhang, a bit less rice for me, more green vegetables, and if possible, more chicken.”

When it was Du Huaishan’s turn, he too tried to curry favor.

“Ah, Du Huaishan, you always know how to pick the best for yourself!”

Though he scolded him, Zhang De still gave Du Huaishan an extra helping of greens. As for the chicken, even though the canteen was free, there was so little meat that he only managed to get one extra piece.

It seemed he’d have to find his own way to get more meat.

I wonder if my silver coins will last.

Morning: running drills.

During the sprints, Du Huaishan kept his eyes on the faces of the soldiers at the finish line, memorizing their features; during the long-distance runs, he scanned the side of the academy building, noting who came out of the doors and what was in the windows.

These exercises were to train his DVA and KVA dynamic vision—one for tracking fast-moving objects head-on, the other for objects moving laterally. By comparing near and far targets, he further honed his depth perception—his sense of spatial distance.

Sure enough, in the afternoon’s zipline training, Du Huaishan distinctly felt a subtle improvement in his dynamic vision; things no longer blurred so easily.

Today, Zhou Zhong’ai had them try a swing-rope method, like a child’s swing, where both feet had to stand inside loops and grip the rope—it was tough. New recruits with poor balance either fell or spun in place, getting tangled like crabs.

Fortunately, Du Huaishan had trained in Chinese wrestling and was skilled at finding his center of gravity, so he managed to stay steady.

Though Zhou Zhong’ai often came near to offer advice, from his vantage above, Du Huaishan couldn’t help but notice her figure—he was, after all, a man, and any normal man would find it distracting.

After two or three such “interruptions,” his balance was thrown off.

In the afternoon: Chang Suian’s combat and killing drills.

Still the same stance-holding and sandbag throws, fundamental to Xingyi training; these foundations had to be solid before moving on to practical fighting techniques.

But during sparring with Tan Hai, Du Huaishan not only focused on his target but also used his peripheral vision to track the trajectory and landing of the sandbag, training his eye-hand coordination and reaction speed.

“Year 5 of Anguo, November 17th. No change in today’s curriculum. I began paying attention to my diet, but there’s still too little meat—I’ll need to purchase some. During running, I combined dynamic vision training, which showed excellent results in today’s zipline class. The new swing-rope exercise should further improve my aerial balance.”

“In Instructor Lin Zhaoshu’s theory class, he explained the four disaster levels of demon-spirits: Spirit Beasts (extraordinary monsters, 1-30 feet), Giant Strength (able to break city walls, 31-150 feet), National Calamity (threaten a nation, 151-450 feet), and Divine Spirits (mythic beings surpassing all, 451 feet and above).”

That evening, after training, Du Huaishan sat in the barracks, reflecting on the day. After class, he’d pressed Instructor Lin about demon-spirits at the Divine Spirit level or above.

Lin Zhaoshu’s answer: so far, there have been no such disasters on the Blue Star world. If one did appear, it would be beyond the power of any nation’s military to resist.

This made Du Huaishan think of the nine-tailed black shadow in his bloody hallucinations. Its size was dozens of yards tall, definitely surpassing the 450-foot threshold of a National Calamity.

“November 18th: Instructor Lin explained hybrid types and demon-spirits’ attributes. Hybrid types are those that combine obvious features of two creatures, often having two hearts—each must be struck to kill them fully. Their demon-spirit soul bursts are even stronger than normal. The origin is unclear, but it’s suspected to result from two demon-spirits devouring each other.”

“There are many demon-spirit attributes: beyond the usual five elements (metal, wood, water, fire, earth), there are rare ones like poison, plague, wind, and lightning. Attribute demon-spirits are harder to deal with than non-attributed ones, as they unleash special attacks. In today’s evening demon-spirit training, my demon-spirit fusion rate rose further in my transformed state.”

“November 19th: I grew one centimeter taller, lost two pounds, but my arms and thighs look firmer—thanks to Instructors Lai Yanlong and Chang Suian’s physical and stance training, my muscles are tighter!”

“November 20th: My dynamic vision practice has paid off—during zipline training, visual blurring is almost gone. So I’ve added night vision sensitivity drills. After each day’s demon-spirit training, on my way back to the barracks, I focus on my surroundings in the dark, staying alert to react at any moment.”

For five straight days, Du Huaishan diligently practiced the new recruit drills at the Army Academy.

It was only five days, but for those with great discipline and scientific methods, a month’s worth of progress could be made; ordinary people might not lose a few pounds in a whole year.

It was no exaggeration: compared to the boy who crawled from a pile of corpses half a month ago, Du Huaishan was almost a new man—at the very least, he’d shed an old skin.

His stamina had increased, his lower-body strength was much more stable, his ligaments could almost stretch to a full split, and he’d learned explosive fighting techniques and dynamic vision.

Even his demon-spirit fusion rate had surpassed three percent.

***

“Huaishan, tomorrow and the day after are rest days. Planning to go into town to buy anything?” Tan Hai brought over a kettle of hot water.

Du Huaishan nodded. What he needed most was meat, and also to find a blacksmith to see if he could make some training tools. The advanced equipment at the Air Academy was out of reach, but a rolling pulley or a spiral ladder should be doable.

“I want to go too. How about we go together?” Guo Tingyu, from a wealthy family in Fenghou City, was never one to stay idle.

“I want to come too!”

“Count me in!”

Wu Ming and Yang Anfu also chimed in, eager to join.

But the new recruit handbook stipulated that on weekends, only up to half the squad—four people—could go out per day, and all had to return before lights out.

“Fatty, you go first. I’ll wait until the day after,” Wu Ming, the oldest in the squad, gave way. He often played the big brother, accommodating the younger boys.

“Thanks, Old Wu! I’ll bring you back something tasty!” Yang Anfu slapped Wu Ming on the shoulder, then pulled Tan Hai aside, grinning slyly. “Tan Hai, you ought to play to your strengths. I heard there’s an officers’ club in the city, filled with beautiful ladies, their skin whiter than steamed buns!”

“I’ve never been to the officers’ club. Not really suitable for us recruits, is it?” Tan Hai stroked his chin, his small eyes twinkling. “But if you want a place for music and drinks, I know just the spot!”

“Hey, that works too!” Yang Anfu, clearly itching for some fun, said, “There are a few good-looking girls among the female recruits, but they’re all so proud—always giving us the cold shoulder.”

“Haha, maybe they’re just not interested in you, Fatty!” Wu Ming interjected. “Look at Huaishan—just this week, three girls asked me about him.”

“Get lost, all of you!”

…

The next morning.

Tan Hai, half-asleep, heard movement and peeked out to see Du Huaishan fetching water to wash up. “Huaishan, it’s our day off. Didn’t we agree to go out at noon? Why are you up so early?”

“Habit. Go back to sleep.”

Du Huaishan dried his face with a towel.

But Tan Hai got up too, hugging his arms as if cold. “Hey, you’re going out to train, aren’t you? Take me along, I’ll be your sparring partner!”

“You rascal, wait for me outside!” Du Huaishan rapped him on the head.

Half an hour later, after breakfast and bundling up in their cotton uniforms, the two appeared at the central training ground.

To Du Huaishan’s surprise, a few people had arrived ahead of them.

It was that female soldier again.

Among the runners, Du Huaishan immediately spotted the girl with her hair in a bun. Though winter was coming and the air was freezing, her pale face was flushed red with cold. Her delicate, striking features and thin figure looked almost pitiable.

She noticed him as well. Her blue-gray eyes showed no surprise, as if she’d expected to see him training even on a rest day.

Strangely, though they hadn’t exchanged a word since joining, there was a sense of unspoken understanding between them.

Du Huaishan steadied his breathing and joined the runners.

Running, sparring, stretching, massage.

Near noon, he and Tan Hai returned to the barracks, wiping off sweat just as Yang Anfu and Guo Tingyu finished getting ready.

“Let’s go, everyone!” Yang Anfu grinned, reported to Lai Yanlong, got their passes, and finally left the academy gates.

They walked along the stone-paved road, passing houses with blue bricks and tiled roofs. Though they’d seen it all a week ago, it still felt new.

Perhaps because it was a rest day, there were plenty of soldiers and men in long robes on the streets. Now and then, a lady in bright silks would pass by, cigarette holder in hand, red lips exhaling a puff that made all the boys stare.

“Too bad Old Wu didn’t come!” Yang Anfu licked his dry lips.

The city, with its permanent garrison, was very secure. In these troubled times, the army’s pay was the best—soldiers had money, which attracted merchants from everywhere.

***

So the place was livelier than any ordinary garrison town.

At noon, they ate a chicken hotpot at a restaurant. Needless to say, Guo Tingyu paid—the meal cost two large silver coins, half a month’s wages for an ordinary worker.

Aside from the restaurant’s markup, the real reason was the exorbitant price of meat.

After their meal, the group wanted to find a place for live music.

“Lichun House looked good when we passed by—the girls at the door were stunning!” said Yang Anfu, picking his teeth.

Tan Hai, the expert, nodded in agreement.

“You all go ahead, I need to visit a blacksmith and order something. I’ll catch up later.” Du Huaishan calculated the time, worried the shop would close before he finished.

“Huaishan, you’re not ditching us to go somewhere special, are you? Out with it—is it a secret spot?” Guo Tingyu teased, perhaps tipsy after the meal.

“I really am going to the blacksmith,” Du Huaishan said, both amused and exasperated.

“Hurry then, we’ll save some drinks for you!”

“Alright.”

After bidding them goodbye, Du Huaishan left the restaurant, asked a passerby for the blacksmith’s location, and made his way there. Because the city was safe, there was little demand for weapons or metalwork, so smithies rarely set up in busy areas.

He turned through several alleys before finding a shop with smoke billowing from the chimney.

The door was half open.

Du Huaishan pushed it in. A wave of heat greeted him.

“Anyone here?”

“Here! Well, if it isn’t a young officer—what an honor!” Inside was a muscular, bare-chested man in a grimy black apron, who put down his tools with a smile.

All soldiers’ weapons and training equipment were generally provided by the army, so it was rare to see military men in a private smithy.

“I want something made from iron. Can you do it?” Du Huaishan pulled out a sheet of paper with his sketch of a rolling pulley, marked with dimensions.

“This is tricky, lots of joints, and pretty thin…”

Just then—a loud, siren-like wail sounded across the entire city, like an air raid alarm.

“Ah, probably another demon-spirit attack…” the blacksmith muttered, completely unfazed, and went back to studying the design.

Du Huaishan heard urgent footsteps outside—soldiers running past the alley. Thanks to his training, he could see their faces clearly—tense and worried.

The blacksmith looked up. “I can do it, young officer. But the price…”

“Name it.”

Du Huaishan knew a small shop like this wouldn’t have a welding machine; all joints had to be hand-riveted.

The blacksmith gritted his teeth. “Four silver coins, is that fair?”

“Alright.”

“You’ll need to pay two up front. I’ll give you a receipt—come back in a week to collect.”

Du Huaishan nodded, took out his settlement money, counted out two coins, then glanced at a short dagger on the rack. “How much for this?”

“If you like it, take it—it’s yours, a gift! For a friend!”

Four silver coins was a big order; the smith wouldn’t mind throwing in a dagger.

Du Huaishan thanked him, took the claim slip, and as soon as he left, slipped the dagger up his right sleeve, hugging the shadows as he hurried toward Lichun House.

The tension on the soldiers’ faces told him: this was no ordinary demon-spirit attack—something far more serious was happening.

He had to find Tan Hai and the others and get them back to the academy, fast!