The two utterly unremarkable men stepped into the movie theater.
Their movements were cautious, almost timid—like first-time disciples entering a sect hall, terrified of breaking some unspoken rule.
Sun Chuanting lowered his voice.
"This ticket says '10–12.' What does that mean?"
Gu Yanwu examined his own.
"Mine says '10–11.' Ah! I understand now. These are seat numbers—row ten, seat eleven, and row ten, seat twelve. Our seats are right next to each other."
He laughed softly. "What a coincidence."
The two men followed the numbering, found their row, and sat down carefully, as if afraid the chairs might explode.
They had barely settled in when two young men beside them shot them sharp looks.
"What are you two doing?" one demanded. "You're sitting in our seats."
Sun Chuanting blinked, genuinely confused.
"Huh? Isn't this seat 10–12? It clearly says so on my ticket."
The young man took Sun Chuanting's ticket, glanced at it—and immediately snorted with laughter.
"My friend," he said, shaking his head, "this is a VIP ticket. Your seats are right up front—the best in the entire theater. Why are you snatching cheap seats from us common folk when you're holding something like this?"
Sun Chuanting froze.
"…What?"
Gu Yanwu smacked his own forehead.
"Ah! That's right! When I bought the tickets, I specifically chose VIP seats. And I remember very clearly—it cost quite a lot."
The two men hurriedly stood up and apologized.
Seeing their sincere and flustered expressions, the young men's annoyance immediately melted away. One of them even kindly pointed forward.
"Your seats are over there. Go on."
Sun Chuanting and Gu Yanwu scurried off, faces warm with embarrassment, and finally took their rightful places in the VIP section.
The area was… empty.
Completely empty.
The film A Minor Border Soldier by the Daling River had already been shown countless times. The nobles and gentry of Puzhou had long since lost interest, and nowadays the audience consisted mostly of villagers and townsfolk from the surrounding areas.
As a result, the VIP section was almost always deserted.
Sitting in the vast, empty space, with no one nearby to stare at them, the two men finally relaxed.
The movie officially began.
The opening credits flashed across the screen.
Screenwriter: Sun Chuanting
Gu Yanwu slowly turned his head and stared at Sun Chuanting as if he'd just seen a ghost.
"…You wrote this?"
Sun Chuanting coughed lightly.
"…Yes."
Gu Yanwu's eyes widened.
"Then why haven't you watched it before?"
Sun Chuanting's expression stiffened.
"Well… about that… ahem… circumstances…"
It was extremely awkward.
Thankfully, Gu Yanwu's attention was quickly seized by the film itself. The plot unfolded, the visuals vivid and lifelike, the actors' performances brimming with passion.
He stopped asking questions altogether.
Although Sun Chuanting already knew every twist and turn of the story, seeing it rendered so realistically on screen still struck him deeply. The battlefield scenes, the emotions, the sacrifices—it all hit far harder than words on paper.
Then, from the ordinary seats behind them, someone suddenly shouted:
"Kill the Manchu dogs!"
"Kill the Manchu dogs!"
"I'm joining the army!"
"Me too!"
"Let's slaughter those bastards!"
"They're killing our Great Ming people—I can't take this!"
"Kill the traitors!"
People of this era had absolutely no concept of "cinema etiquette." They shouted, cursed, and roared without restraint. No one thought it strange. On the contrary, the entire hall seemed to burn together with shared fury.
Manchu invaders.
Corrupt officials.
Traitors to the nation.
The curses rose and fell like waves.
The atmosphere was electric, surging with righteous anger.
Gu Yanwu glanced back at the boiling crowd and let out a quiet sigh.
"Every man bears responsibility for the fate of the world. I've repeated those words for years," he said softly. "Yet most people slept through them, impossible to awaken. Only now do I truly understand—this is how you ignite the will of the people."
Sun Chuanting nodded slowly.
"No wonder they're building a military academy here. The common people's desire to join the army and fight the Manchu is even stronger than that of the borderlands."
They were both men of insight. What they gained from this viewing went far beyond mere entertainment.
When they exited the theater, their hearts still pounded with lingering emotion.
Gu Yanwu stopped, turned, and bowed deeply to Sun Chuanting.
"Brother, the story you wrote is magnificent. When the day comes that the Great Ming finally crushes the Manchu invaders, your name will surely stand among the contributors."
Sun Chuanting's chest surged with heroic resolve.
"I won't fight the Manchu with words alone. The military academy will officially open in a few days. I'll devote myself fully to running the Yellow Pole Military Academy, training outstanding commanders—and we will overthrow the Manchu."
Gu Yanwu blinked.
"Yellow Pole Military Academy? What is that?"
Sun Chuanting explained, "At Yellow Water Beach, north of the city, a military academy has been built to train commanders. I am its headmaster."
Gu Yanwu's respect deepened instantly.
"When it opens, I will certainly come to observe and learn."
"You are most welcome," Sun Chuanting replied.
After several days of preparation, the Yellow Pole Military Academy officially opened.
The first batch of cadets was not large, all drawn from Lao Nanfeng's forces. Soldiers from farther regions would arrive gradually over the next few days by train.
Most of these men were seasoned border troops. Naturally, there were also many newly recruited soldiers—quite a few still undergoing "ideological training" and not yet eligible for the battlefield.
But that did not stop them from studying military strategy.
After all, both hands had to be grasped firmly.
Sun Chuanting stood at the academy gate, watching his "students" file in. Each one saluted and called out loudly:
"Hello, Headmaster!"
A powerful sense of pride welled up in his chest.
Gu Yanwu stood nearby, observing. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, any place filled with soldiers stirred something deep and stirring within him.
"Hello, Headmaster!" another cadet called out energetically.
Sun Chuanting turned, smiling.
"Excellent, excellent. Study diligently—"
He stopped mid-sentence.
His eyes locked onto the man's face.
"ZU! DA! SHOU!"
Sun Chuanting's roar shook the academy gate.
"Zu Dashou! You dare come to my military academy? Are you here to court death?!"
Gu Yanwu snapped his head over and instantly erupted as well.
"It is Zu Dashou! You audacious bastard—coming to Puzhou just to die?!"
The man being accused went pale and began waving his hands frantically.
"No! No! No! I'm not Zu Dashou! My surname is Chen! I'm a Qianhu under Brother Nanfeng! I'm on our side!"
Sun Chuanting sneered.
"Don't try to fool me. I'd recognize that face even if you turned to ash. You are Zu Dashou."
Gu Yanwu added angrily,
"I remember that face too. I've been dreaming of punching it!"
The two advanced, fists clenched.
Gu Yanwu was merely a scholar, but Sun Chuanting was another matter entirely—versed in both civil and martial arts, tall, powerful, and radiating killing intent. At this moment, he looked more terrifying than a battlefield general.
"Zu Dashou" screamed internally.
Utter terror seized him. He turned and ran.
"Don't hit me! I'm Qianhu Chen! I'm not Zu Dashou! Someone help me!"
The surrounding soldiers burst into laughter.
"Hahaha! Finally, someone not afraid of Qianhu Chen!"
"The era of Qianhu Chen ruling Gao Family Village with that face is over!"
Qianhu Chen shrieked as he ran,
"Don't come any closer!"
Sun Chuanting bellowed,
"Zu Dashou—prepare to die!"
Gu Yanwu shouted,
"Brother, I'll help you!"
"AAAAAAH—!"
The three figures tore off into the distance, sprinting wildly along Yellow Water Beach by the Sushui River, their shouts echoing into the night.