"My lord, perhaps you could—"
"Didn't I say two days? Can't you understand human speech?!"
Feeling the anger in Wang Zhi's tone, Chen Sanshi dared not say another word. He cupped his fists respectfully and quietly exited the tent.
Two days?
He scoffed inwardly. More likely, two days would turn into another two days, and then another.
By the time ten days of assessment were over, everything would already be too late.
"Others pay and get taught, but I pay and get nothing?"
Even a fool could see he was being targeted on purpose.
Since joining the army, Chen Sanshi hadn't offended anyone. So who was going out of their way to make things difficult for him?
Two possibilities came to mind.
First, Qin Feng's younger brother.
Qin Feng didn't dare attack him openly now that he wore military armor. But fearing Chen Sanshi might grow stronger through training, he could've found a way to sabotage him indirectly.
However, Qin Feng's brother was barely qualified as a martial student, let alone influential enough to sway Hundred-Households.
That led to the second possibility—Hundred-Household Luo.
His nephew, Song Yan, was currently ranked second in the foundational stance drills. Luo likely feared Chen Sanshi might surpass his nephew and steal his chance at selection.
That made perfect sense.
Chen Sanshi felt a heavy pressure settling in his chest.
Trying to climb upward in this place really was like crossing one obstacle after another.
"How'd it go? Who's teaching you? I heard Hundred-Household Liu's the most patient and the best value!"
Zhu Tong hurried over to ask. When he learned the result, he exploded in anger.
"What the hell? Took your money and didn't teach you?! I'm going to confront him!"
"Don't, Old Zhu!" Xu Wencai quickly grabbed him. "This Brother Chen here must've offended someone important!"
Zhu Tong scratched his head. "Then what do we do? Out of everyone here, Shitou's the fastest learner. If anyone deserves a chance at selection, it's him!"
"How about I secretly teach him? No one will know."
"Really, there's no need," Chen Sanshi said, shaking his head firmly. He didn't want to drag anyone else into his mess.
Even without the breathing method, he was still the fastest among those practicing the stances.
That meant there was still hope—however small.
With that thought, he walked to the weapon racks beside the training field and picked out a plum-blossom spear, beginning to practice.
"Spear techniques?"
Zhu Tong gawked. "Shitou, you've already started learning spearwork?!"
Not just him—the whole training ground turned to look.
"It's fine!" Zhu Tong shouted. "Shitou's already amazing! If any officer sees this and reports it, some higher-up's bound to recognize his talent!"
Xu Wencai just gave a soft sigh, looking at Zhu Tong like he was a naïve child.
Reality was rarely that kind.
There were no senior officers around, only a few Flag Officers. And none of them planned to interfere.
Even Xu Bin, who happened to pass by, said nothing.
He'd heard from the armory clerk earlier that his hometown fellow had shown remarkable archery skill—enough to become a martial soldier soon. Out of curiosity, he came to see for himself.
But instead, he saw Chen Sanshi being deliberately targeted, paying silver yet denied instruction.
"This kid," Xu Bin murmured, frowning. "Barely arrived and already made enemies."
He looked toward the direction of the Thousand-Household's command tent, took a hesitant step… then stopped, sighed, and turned away.
"Your second uncle! It must be your second uncle!"
Zhu Tong suddenly grabbed Song Yan by the collar. "He's the one making things hard for Shitou!"
"I… I don't know anything!" Song Yan's face turned red. "I never told my uncle to do that!"
"Hmph!" Zhu Tong snapped. "If you ask me, there's no need for an assessment at all. Why not just hand the selection spot straight to you?"
"I'm going to find my uncle."
Song Yan tore free and sprinted out of the camp.
Inside the tent, he found his uncle sitting at a desk, reading a military manual.
"Uncle, why?" Song Yan demanded.
"Hmm?"
Hundred-Household Luo lifted his head slowly. "Why what? Isn't this a good thing for you?"
He looked into his nephew's clear, earnest eyes, sighed, and set the manual aside before continuing.
"I do have that intention," Luo Dongquan said, "but let's be real—even if I were promoted to Deputy Thousand-Household, the others, especially that fat pig Wang Zhi, wouldn't necessarily listen to me."
He paused, then continued slowly, "Actually, it all started yesterday. The Thousand-Household ordered us to cooperate with the martial halls in capturing the barbarian assassin. After the mission, the Young Master of the Tianyuan Martial Hall invited us for drinks. During the meal, he casually mentioned that boy's name."
"Who knows what he did to offend the martial hall."
"All of us owe Tianyuan Martial Hall for years of favors—it's only natural we give them some face."
"That…"
Song Yan lowered his head. "But isn't that a little unfair to him?"
"Fair, my ass!" Luo Dongquan snapped, slamming the military manual shut before it could fly out of his hand.
"Yan'er, you're far too naïve. Stop worrying about others. What you need to focus on is training hard and earning your Elite Selection qualification! Once you get into the Grand Commander's Mansion, that's what'll truly matter for your future!"
"You think you can wear the crimson robe embroidered with a white crane without a master or family background? Not a chance in hell. Joining Grand Commander Sun's command is your only path forward! Now get out—and stop pestering me with nonsense!"
…
Meanwhile, in Hundred-Household Wang Zhi's tent, two or three other officers had gathered.
"Hey, Fat Wang, you're ruthless," said Hundred-Household Xiong with a teasing grin. "You didn't just refuse to teach the guy—you even took his money!"
"Hahahaha! I'll treat you all to drinks later," Wang Zhi said proudly, shaking his belly as he laughed.
"Still…" Hundred-Household Liu spoke in a more serious tone. "That Chen Sanshi kid—if I recall right, he's the fastest learner in this batch. It's a shame to waste such a good seedling."
"When has the army ever lacked 'good seedlings'?" Wang Zhi scoffed. "Back in my day, I learned all the stance work in one day and one night."
"What the army truly lacks are real geniuses—those who can master the stances in half a day and the spear in three. Those are the ones worth cultivating."
"True enough," Liu said with a nod. "In this dump, every resource we give to someone else means less for us. Still, if that kid doesn't make it, then the Elite Selection spot will probably go to Luo's nephew."
"If that boy really gets chosen into one of the Eight Garrisons, Luo might even get promoted out of here himself. That'd be quite the rise, eh?"
But say, Fat Wang—if you could bring up a true genius, you might even get reinstated into the Eight Garrisons too. You don't want to rot in this place forever, do you?"
"I'd love to go back," Wang Zhi muttered, rolling a silver ingot in his hand, "but where the hell am I supposed to find a genius?"
The others laughed, and the topic died there.
…
Back on the training grounds, Chen Sanshi began practicing his spear technique.
Thanks to his extraordinary memory, every move that Wang Zhi had demonstrated replayed in his mind like a vivid slideshow.
Even so, the stance training had already been grueling. Adding spear techniques on top of that, he felt like his strength was being sucked out by a pump.
But he had been mentally prepared. He gritted his teeth and endured.
Every swing of the plum-blossom spear made his heart pound faster, his lungs ache for air. His throat stung with the taste of iron, as if he were running to his absolute limit.
The breathing method must've been meant to ease this pain—to help regulate the body and increase training speed.
But!
If it was merely an aid, then it meant that even without the breathing method, the full spear technique could still be mastered.
It just meant more pain.
As for the speed of improvement—so what if it slowed a little? As long as he worked harder, he could make up for it.
As long as the mind doesn't falter, there's always a way through!
Chen Sanshi clenched his jaw so tight it creaked, then swung the iron spear again and again, his movements fierce and unwavering.