Chapter 159: Power Is Too Overwhelming, Can

5:30 a. m.

As sharp whistles pierced the air and the school loudspeakers blared, the counselor appeared punctually at every dorm, accompanied by a drill instructor, shouting:

"The bus to pick you up is already downstairs. Get up fast, put on your uniform, and report downstairs for assembly."

Last night, Room 325 was wildly excited and didn't sleep until late; waking up so early left everyone dazed, with sleep crusts caked in their corners. But the counselor didn't care—he shoved each bed, urging them relentlessly.

This year's military uniform was ugly and outdated; once they put on the cap and slipped into their Liberation shoes, everyone's looks plummeted like a cliff. Just like a baldness test for handsome men, only Li Heng and Hu Ping could carry off the uniform.

Li Li Li Guoyi barely counted.

The rest—Zhou Zhou Zhou Zhangming, Tang Tang Tang Daling, Li Guang, and Zhang Bing—were utterly forgettable, the kind you'd drop on the street without leaving a ripple.

After washing up and slinging their packed bags over their shoulders, the group hurried out of the dorm under the counselor's and instructor's prodding, rushing downstairs to the bus.

Looking out, all the vehicles were for new students; Li Guang leaned out the window and asked: "Instructor, where are you taking us?"

The instructor replied coolly: "Classified."

Human potential is limitless—under the dual pressure of school and instructor, Room 4 Dormitory was emptied in under ten minutes.

The bus set off, next stop: the train station.

A green special train was already waiting; all new students, like a flock of sheep, were herded onto the train in orderly lines.

The instructor acted like a noble shepherd dog, blowing his metal whistle as he darted through the crowd, giving constant orders.

During this, Hu Ping and Li Li Li Guoyi moved slowly, their eyes darting like thieves toward the girls, earning them two kicks from the instructor. Instantly, both clutched their sore spots, faces twisted in agony, as they boarded the train.

Statistics Class 1 was in Car 9; as soon as the train moved, the instructor announced: "I'm Officer Cui, your drill instructor during training. Our squad belongs to the 2nd Battalion, 9th Company."

The instructor looked young; a bold city girl asked: "Instructor, how old are you?"

The instructor stood like a telephone pole in the aisle and replied: "Classified."

A boy asked: "Instructor, are you married? Do you have kids?"

The instructor gave the same formulaic reply: "Classified."

Back then, instructors were upright—boring, but reliable. Unlike later years, some even developed inappropriate feelings for new students, and a few were even arrested for outrageous behavior.

Outside, daylight had fully broken; everyone felt energized, curiosity and novelty bubbling one after another. The entire carriage buzzed like boiling porridge, murmuring and fizzing all the way.

Seats were assigned by dorm room.

Li Li Li Guoyi leaned in and whispered: "Guys, on the way here I secretly sized up every girl I saw. Liu Yue lives up to her name—damn! Even the uniform can't dull her glow. She's in a league of her own!"

Tang Tang Tang Daling said: "Zhou Min isn't bad either."

Li Guang added: "Li Xian has a bit of cuteness too."

At these words, everyone in Room 325 turned their heads toward Li Heng like they'd been remotely controlled.

It wasn't just Statistics Class 1 anymore—several nearby classes now knew that on the second day of school, Li Xian had started pursuing Li Heng.

After all, her golden hair was too eye-catching, and her broken Chinese made it impossible to ignore.

Mentioning Li Xian too quickly, Li Guang felt regret and discomfort, his eyes darting away uneasily.

But sometimes fate just has to be cruel—what you fear is exactly what comes.

Before Li Guang could recover, Li Xian walked over in front of the whole class, addressing Zhang Bing, who sat next to Li Heng:

"Zhang Bing, can I switch seats with you?"

Zhang Bing turned around and saw Zhou Min and Liu Yue on the other side—almost a kingdom of women, with the queen herself present—and immediately backed down: "I'll squeeze in with them. You take it."

Saying that, Zhang Bing stood up and squeezed in with Hu Ping and Li Li Li Guoyi.

Then, all the guys' eyes flickered between Li Heng and Li Xian—seeking amusement, yet secretly envious. Such a lovely girl—why couldn't she be into me?

Due to her slow speech and imperfect pronunciation, Li Xian sounded incredibly cute: "Master, I've come to learn Mandarin from you."

Having accepted her sunscreen, Li Heng nodded without refusal. He gently corrected her mispronounced words one by one during casual conversation.

After listening for ten minutes, the lively Li Li Li Guoyi couldn't hold back: "Princess Xian, my Mandarin is great too—I can teach you!"

Li Xian asked happily: "What did you call me?"

Li Li Li Guoyi grinned: "Princess Xian."

Li Xian gave him a thumbs-up: "That's a lovely title—keep using it. But don't interrupt me and my master while we practice Mandarin."

Hearing this, everyone nearby burst into laughter—the first real wave of amusement in the carriage.

At that moment, Tang Tang Tang Daling, whose Mandarin was terrible, asked sincerely: "Princess Xian, can I join you two to learn Mandarin?"

Li Xian replied: "Of course. Your Mandarin is as bad as mine—we'll improve together."

Li Li Li Guoyi grumbled: "You're showing favoritism."

Li Xian shot back: "You're the one with the old wine's intention—Master, what's the next line?"

Li Heng smiled: "The old wine's intention lies not in the wine."

"Exactly, Li Li Li Guoyi—you're the old wine's intention, not in the wine, just trying to talk to a girl who's a little cute."

Li Xian looked adorable, and her words were adorable too—once again, the innocent students of this era burst into laughter.

Li Li Li Guoyi muttered under his breath: "Says you—you're the one whose intention lies in the wine."

As the train left Shanghai, Li Xian ran back to her seat, brought two bottles of soda over, and said: "Master, you must be thirsty. Drink some to moisten your throat."

After speaking so long, Li Heng's throat was indeed dry; he took the bottle and drank.

"Master, are you tired? Should I give you a massage?" Li Xian asked.

Li Heng said: "You know how to massage?"

"Of course! I often massage my dad. Lean over, I'll help you." Li Xian reached out to massage him.

The instructor walked over and cleared his throat, staring at Li Xian.

Li Xian turned around: "Instructor, is your throat sore?"

The instructor said: "Your school has a rule: no dating during training. It's my duty to supervise."

Li Xian protested: "Instructor, you're mistaken—we're not dating."

The instructor replied sternly: "Even obvious pursuit of a male student is forbidden."

Oh dear, you're definitely friendless if you talk like that.

"Hahaha!"

Now not just the nearby seats, but the entire carriage erupted in pig-like laughter.

So loud was the laughter that people from the adjacent carriage came over to see what was going on.

When they heard the hilarious exchange between Li Xian and the instructor, Car 8 and Car 10 spread the story like wildfire—and soon, Li Heng's fame rose another notch.

Now, nearly half the School of Management had heard of Li Heng's legendary name. This was the ultimate realm of the martial world: before you've seen the man, you've already heard his name.

At noon, the train finally stopped. Li Heng looked out sharply and realized their destination was Wuxi.

Many green military trucks were waiting at the station; as usual, students were grouped by class and herded onto the trucks, heading to the camp.

"Our country has entered a new stage of reform, opening up, and economic construction. Higher education is accelerating. In accordance with central directives, to cultivate students' national defense awareness and military skills, to strengthen physical fitness and discipline, and to promote team spirit and collective honor—"

With these words from the school leadership at the new-student military training mobilization meeting, training officially began.

Looking around, the training ground was packed with green military formations; Statistics Class 1, or 9th Company, was in the southwest corner.

To everyone's surprise, they weren't grouped with Statistics Class 2 or other majors from the School of Management, but instead placed next to the Journalism major.

Later they learned the layout was decided by the instructor, who drew lots to assign classes.

At a glance, Li Heng pinpointed Sun Manning in the crowd. But the girl hadn't noticed him—she stood rigidly at attention, receiving the instructor's instructions.

Statistics Class 1 had 46 students: 15 boys, 31 girls.

The boys stood in the back row; Zhou Zhou Zhou Zhangming, at 185 cm, stood on the far right, Zhang Bing beside him, and Li Heng, the third tallest in class, stood next to them.

Moving left along the line came Hu Ping, Chen Chen Chen Jinshi, Li Guang, and others.

There was a boy named Ma Junlin, extremely short—only about 157 cm—who'd barely fit in the left side of the girls' line.

Seeing Ma Junlin, Tang Tang Tang Daling, at 168 cm, felt a surge of relief; his posture straightened. Damn! Room 325 was just too insane—everyone except him was over 174 cm. He'd nearly lost all confidence these past two days.

There were two tall girls: Yuan Wen, a Shanxi girl, stood at 176 cm; Yang Shu, from Qingdao, was 174 cm; then came Liu Yue at 167 cm, and Zhou Min at 165 cm.

Seeing Liu Yue standing in front of Li Heng, during rest, Li Xian grabbed Liu Yue's hand and said: "Oh my, I envy your height! If I were 167, I'd stand right in front of him."

Nearby, Zhou Min whispered: "You've only just met him—why do you like him so much?"

Li Xian sighed: "He's exactly what I've always wanted—I fell for him at first sight!"

Liu Yue and Zhou Min exchanged glances, barely holding back laughter.

The sun blazed like a god of death overhead; Li Heng stood beneath it, sweating and oily.

His mood was complex—painful yet joyful. Going through military training again, he felt both anticipation and excitement, yet also exhaustion and hardship.

He couldn't figure out why—was it human biology? Or were some people just here to be ridiculous?

Everyone stumbled during drills: standing at attention, marching, standing at ease, turning left and right, squatting and rising—every step had someone messing up, every step had someone contradicting.

College students had low thresholds for humor; whenever someone messed up, everyone found it hilarious.

Of course, the biggest source of comedy was Tang Tang Tang Daling. During rest, the instructor taught them a song: "Unity Is Strength." But Tang's first line went wrong—loudly.

Instructor sang: "Unity is strength!"

Tang Tang Tang Daling bellowed: "Unity is your mother!"

A strange voice slipped into the crowd.

The instructor blinked, stared at Tang Tang Tang Daling, and continued: "This strength is iron!"

Tang Tang Tang Daling shouted to the sky: "This your mother is iron!"

The instructor walked up to Tang Tang Tang Daling: "This strength is steel!"

Tang Tang Tang Daling yelled: "This your mother is steel!"

"Hahaha!"

Three times in a row, everyone broke down laughing.

Now the instructor forgot to teach the song and focused solely on correcting Tang Tang Tang Daoling: "Strength!"

Tang Tang Tang Daoling: "Your mom!"

Instructor: "Strength! Strength! Not your mom, your mom!"

Tang Tang Tang Daoling: "Your mom, your mom!"

The instructor was so furious he grabbed Tang Tang Tang Daoling's throat and shook him violently: "Strength!"

Tang Tang Tang Daoling: "Your mom!"

"Hahaha!"

This time, it wasn't just the 9th platoon laughing—neighbors in the 10th and 8th platoons joined in roaring laughter.

The instructor covered his eyes, spun around once, then kicked out with a sharp *pia* sound: "You idiot! Run five laps around the training ground!"

Possibly fueled by resentment over being unfairly forced to run five laps, Tang Tang Tang Daoling deliberately retaliated when returning to formation for roll call.

The instructor barked: "Call out numbers!"

Tang Tang Tang Daoling, at the far left, shouted: "Ooh!"

The man beside him reflexively echoed: "Ooh!"

Then the entire row behind them chimed in: "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!"

Finally, Zhou Zhou Zhou Zhangming loudly shouted: "Ya hoo!"

The instructor's face turned green. He ordered: "Last row! Left face! Run! Five laps!"

During the day they suffered on the drill field; at night they couldn't rest either—they had to study political ideology, like selections from Mao and Deng.

Seating was strictly assigned: your position during daytime training determined your seat. The instructor explained this was to build emotional bonds and rapport with those in front of, behind, and beside you—to actively prepare for the military training competition on September 30th!

At such times, Li Heng always hid in a corner, quietly studying the books and documents Aunt Zhao Jing had given him.

Regarding the progress of *A Bitter Journey Through Culture*, he had already submitted six chapters to *Harvest* magazine by early August, and by mid- to late August he'd written about ten more based on his reflections. After arriving in Shanghai for the semester, he wrote one more chapter. His current backlog was sufficient and would not affect the October issue of *Harvest*.

As for the planned completion by November—well, he wasn't sure anymore.

After all, he wasn't just copying outright; while copying, he added his own insights, his own understanding, and many entirely new chapters, expanding the original 230,000 characters to over 340,000.

This was a massive undertaking, bearing his ambition—he couldn't rush it, and he dared not rush it. He was determined to fuse all his past-life accumulation into it, elevating *A Bitter Journey Through Culture* to a new level.

Seeing him immersed in his own work for half a month, Liu Yue, appointed platoon leader of the 9th platoon by the instructor, turned over and kindly warned:

"Li Heng, if you don't pay attention in political class, how will you pass the exam?"

The way she asked that—did she think so little of him?

If he couldn't pass such basic political classes, hadn't his seven years inside the system in his past life been wasted?

Li Heng didn't look up: "Don't worry. I'm listening. Every word."

In this world, there is a kind of harm called "I'm doing this for your own good."

People these days are ideologically pure and overly responsible. Under this unified ideology, failing to study diligently makes you an outsider, an enemy of the people—there's no reasoning with them.

Liu Yue clearly didn't believe him and worried he'd fail the exam and drag down the class, so she opened her book and asked questions.

Is this girl serious?

Li Heng lifted his head, wary she'd fixate on him, and answered according to his own understanding—flawlessly.

Liu Yue asked several more questions.

Li Heng answered them all smoothly.

Liu Yue stared blankly at the book for a moment, then closed it and asked: "How many times have you read this book?"

No wonder she asked—though Li Heng's answers differed slightly from the text, their core was identical, and his comprehension far surpassed hers.

Li Heng replied indifferently: "Books like this—you flip through once and that's enough."

Liu Yue glanced at the book on his left—brand new, not a single sign of wear. How could this look like a book read many times?

But since Li Heng had just proven his ability, she said nothing more.

When Liu Yue turned back, Hu Ping, who had been watching silently, flipped through the book for a long time, then sighed in defeat.

He considered himself a strong learner—he hadn't studied day and night like his high school classmates, yet still got into Fudan University. Now he'd just been humiliated by Li Heng.

They sat side by side. He'd watched Li Heng's every move—since the books were distributed, Li Heng hadn't touched them, not even opened the title page. Could he really have absorbed all this just by listening?

Hu Ping looked at Liu Yue ahead, then at Li Heng—he realized he couldn't fake it anymore, couldn't draw Liu Yue's attention.

Coincidentally, Zhang Bing and Zhou Zhou Zhou Zhangming to his right did exactly what Hu Ping had done—and instantly admired Li Heng.

Female class monitor Zhou Min asked: "Li Heng, what was your college entrance exam score?"

Li Heng gave the score casually.

Zhou Min was stunned: "Just one point short of Peking University?"

Li Heng grunted.

Zhou Min sighed sympathetically: "What a pity."

Li Heng smiled: "No regret. If I hadn't come to Fudan, I wouldn't have met you all, would I? This is fate."

Zhou Min covered her mouth and laughed: "Don't talk about fate with us—Miss Xian will get jealous."

Ever since Li Li Li Guoyi started it, everyone in the class now called Li Xian "Princess Xian"—she was just too adorable.

Even though she often snapped at him, Li Li Li Guoyi still grinned and chatted her up, never getting angry.

Li Heng didn't care, reading as he replied: "Let her be jealous. If she keeps this up, she'll never need to buy vinegar."

Zhou Min blinked: "What do you mean?"

Li Heng said: "Literal meaning. Dozens of girls have written me love letters since childhood—hundreds even. If she's way down the list, won't she never need to buy vinegar?"

Zhou Min gaped: "You mean there were a hundred or eighty girls before her?"

Li Heng blinked, joking: "Something like that. Tell Li Xian—she can wait in line, but don't cut it."

Waiting in line is fine—but cutting requires strength. He naturally didn't say the second half aloud.

But everyone here was smart—they understood. They knew he was using Zhou Min's mouth to subtly convey the message to Li Xian, hoping she'd give up.

Frankly, he didn't want to boast about his romantic affairs.

But after half a month of contact, he realized Li Xian had become as stubborn as a turtle swallowing a scale—she'd rejected him twice outright and still clung to him.

Yet they were classmates—they'd see each other every day. He couldn't say anything harsher or make things too ugly, so he had to use this indirect way to make her see sense.

Li Heng had even considered: if all else failed, after military training, he'd bring Xiao Han to Fudan for a walk.

The strategy worked. In the second half of the training, during a private moment, Li Xian bit her lip and asked: "Master, do you have someone you like?"

Li Heng nodded, acknowledging it.

Li Xian lowered her eyes, fell silent for a long time, then asked: "Will you still teach me Mandarin?"

Li Heng replied seriously: "You took my sunscreen—of course I'll teach you."

Li Xian's face instantly brightened. She left happily—but as she turned away, tears streamed down her face.

Her heartbroken expression made Liu Yue, Zhou Min, and Chen Chen Chen Guifen feel their hearts shatter.

Chen Chen Chen Guifen asked: "How did he reject you?"

Li Xian refused to mention what had just happened. She just lowered her head and said: "I want to eat. I'm going to eat a lot."

Chen Chen Chen Guifen said: "This is a military camp—where are you going to eat?"

Liu Yue comforted: "The training ends soon. Just hold on. When it's over, I'll take you all for hotpot."

PS: Please vote for monthly tickets! Please subscribe!

Maybe because the weather turned cold, my stomach pain worsened these past two days—I sometimes had to rest. Sorry I didn't update last night.

(Still more)

(End of chapter)