Since the day she rejected Ling Ron, Wang Zhi had never seen him again.
Whether it was embarrassment or a bruised ego, she didn't know—and frankly, she didn't care. As long as she was free of that pestering face, she was content. That part of her past was over, sealed shut.
Fifteen days after the results, her admission letter arrived.
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened it, heart racing. It was real now. Tangible. She had been accepted into First Military University.
Military universities began earlier than regular colleges, and a scheduled pickup bus was arranged for new recruits. On the morning of departure, Wang Zhi packed her bag carefully, her every movement filled with silent anticipation. When she reached the stop, the bus was already rumbling nearby.
With a loud hiss of brakes, the vehicle came to a halt.
As the door opened, Wang Zhi opened her eyes.
She had arrived.
Through the dusty window, the towering iron gates of First Military University loomed into view—stoic, unyielding, glorious.
Above the entrance, a blood-red banner fluttered in the breeze:
"Welcome, Fresh Recruits. Blood, Sweat, and Glory Await."
Her fingers clenched around the strap of her backpack—not heavy, but weighted with meaning. It wasn't just luggage anymore. It was a symbol: she was setting down her past and carrying the weight of her future.
Stepping off the bus, the first thing she heard was the commanding barks of instructors and the rhythmic pounding of boots against concrete. Seniors were training in full uniform—pushups, drills, shouting under pressure. The air smelled like dust, sweat, and steel.
And Wang Zhi smiled.
This was exactly what she had dreamt of.
A senior cadet approached and motioned for the group to follow her.
"Alright, recruits! You've got fifteen minutes," she barked without turning. "Find your beds. They're marked with your names. Uniforms are folded on top. Change immediately and report downstairs. Anyone late—will face punishment."
Then she vanished, leaving chaos in her wake.
Groans erupted among the girls.
"I thought training started tomorrow!" one muttered. "They don't even let us rest after a 12-hour journey?"
Wang Zhi ignored the complaints and went straight to finding her tag.
The uniform on her bed was crisp, olive green, and perfectly tailored to her size. As she slipped into it, something stirred inside her—pride. The clothes felt like skin. Like armor.
By the time she was done, most of the others had given up their grumbling and started dressing quickly.
Wang Zhi didn't waste another second.
She sprinted down the dormitory stairs, not because she feared punishment—but because she feared leaving a bad impression. She didn't want to start her new life with failure.
When she reached the training grounds, dozens of recruits were already lined up, standing in strict formation. Just as she joined the line, a chilling voice cut through the air:
"Everyone who's late—step out. Ten laps around the field."
Without hesitation, a few stepped forward. No arguments. No tears. Just running.
The instructor—tall, iron-eyed, and sharp-voiced—stepped into view.
"I am Instructor Han," he announced. "And for the next four years, I will be your nightmare and your pride."
A small smirk tugged at his lips as he continued.
"This university is not for the weak. It is not for cowards. You will train morning and evening. Afternoon will be your academic time. There are no exceptions. No excuses. If you are late, you run. If you disobey, you run. If you fall behind—you run until you no longer can."
Wang Zhi listened with every nerve on edge, each word cementing the reality she had chosen.
The training began immediately.
Drills. Sprints. Crawls. Basic formations. Coordination tests.
By the end of the day, Wang Zhi's arms were jelly, her legs burning, her uniform soaked in sweat. Her lungs screamed, her body trembled—and she knew, deep inside, that she was far from ready.
Among her peers, she was average.
No longer the top student, no longer the best in the room.
But she wasn't discouraged.
She was determined.
If this was the price to become a soldier, she would pay it every single day.
That night, long after lights-out, Wang Zhi sat on her bed, notebook open. While others rested, she wrote out her own personal training schedule—core strength, endurance, stamina, flexibility.
If the world wanted her to bleed, she would bleed on her terms.
She wasn't here to survive.
She was here to conquer.