Chapter 15: Graduation

Guo Jing felt that completing this task required collective wisdom.

Guo Jing: “Everyone, I’ve realized that confronting Temujin cannot be done with force and military power alone.”

Nie Huaishang: “So you need politics, then.”

Guo Jing: “Exactly. I’ve gathered data and consulted my master—I now understand why the Mongol cavalry is united while Song soldiers collapse at the first strike.”

Nie Huaishang: “It’s normal. The Song dynasty seized power illegitimately, so it favors scholars and suppresses the military. Besides, the Song literati are clearly no good—people like Fan Zhongyan and Bao Zheng are rare exceptions.”

“Good men don’t become soldiers; good iron isn’t used to make nails—it’s the norm. Soldiers have zero social status.”

Guo Jing: “Correct. Their privilege of not being executed lets them act without restraint.”

He calculated their paid leave: about 120 days a year, and some even wrote essays praising the act of paying tribute to the Liao.

After reading about the daily lives of these so-called morally upright literati, Guo Jing felt like he’d be sick with rage.

I’ve guarded Xiangyang for decades without a single day off, risking my life every moment—yet you live such leisurely lives.

They constantly sing romantic tales from brothels.

So tell me, brothels never serve merchants—they serve only literati.

But the cost there is high: one tael of silver to the madam, tips for the runners, and at least ten taels for a banquet.

To hire a girl for company, even an average one, costs dozens of taels—so each visit costs at least fifty taels.

These are the same people who cry poverty to the court when funding wars, yet spend lavishly in brothels.

Guo Jing’s heart burned with injustice—even a man as honest as him now felt murderous intent.

Guo Jing: “To establish a new political system, we must cut down the old class—I think the literati class is perfect.”

Zhang Chu’an: “Whoa, Guo Jing, I advise you to calm down. If you offend them, they’ll find every way to smear you.”

Guo Jing: “I live my life with a clear conscience. If I can give my people the life they have today, I’d gladly be cursed for ten thousand generations.”

Zhang Chu’an: “I’ve never cared what others think of me. I’ll join you in being cursed for ten thousand generations.”

Nie Huaishang: “Cursed for ten thousand generations? Not necessarily—history has its own judgment. Why, for example, does Emperor Renzong of Song, praised by literati, have less influence than Qin Shi Huang or Han Wu Di?”

“Because facts never change, no matter how much you praise or slander them.”

Zhang Xiaofan: “The literati are just a group that doesn’t move the rivers and streams of eternity—no need to care. In the Yuan dynasty, they were only one step above beggars, yet they never overthrew it.”

Guo Jing: “Zhu Yuanzhang was a beggar, Chen Youliang a fisherman, Zhang Shicheng a salt trader—where were the upright literati?”

“They only dare smear people after they’re dead.”

Nie Huaishang: “So let’s boldly target the literati.”

Zhang Chu’an: “I think land reform is perfect—we can confiscate the literati landlords’ property, seize their wealth for the state treasury, and distribute the land to landless peasants.”

Guo Jing: “Good idea. Let’s study the records here thoroughly to complete our task in The Legend of the Condor Heroes.”

In the days that followed, the four of them trained hard at the military academy to better fulfill their mission, and spent all remaining time researching.

After reviewing the records, they found every step was difficult: establishing a base, building a political core, and ideological education—all required study.

Each was a vast subject to them.

But Guo Jing was slow-witted, yet stubborn—he never abandoned what he had decided.

While learning troop command, he also learned how to unite troops and conduct ideological work.

Of course, he occasionally read Daoist texts, since he didn’t want to neglect his martial skills—he believed Daoist scriptures might bring him unexpected gains.

First, Zhang Chu’an’s Golden Light Spell and Thunder Art both originated from Longhu Mountain Daoism—even if he couldn’t uncover new techniques, it would accelerate his Qi cultivation.

Not just Guo Jing—the other three did the same.

The reason they focused so intensely was because they knew missions in other worlds were far harder.

Of course, they had also discussed how to complete the remaining tasks.

Zhang Chu’an: “Black Cat is already eliminated. Now only the drug lord Ma Yunfei and the mercenary Scorpion remain.”

Nie Huaishang: “They’re no easy targets—one’s a mercenary, one’s a drug lord. We handled Black Cat easily because we knew his weakness.”

Zhang Xiaofan: “But we don’t know their weaknesses, so we can’t deliver a fatal blow.”

Nie Huaishang: “Scorpion will raid the execution ground in a few years. Let’s not rush—right now, Ma Yunfei is our headache.”

Zhang Xiaofan: “No need to worry. I remember the mission succeeded—this mess only happened because Ma Yunfei mutilated himself and took Xiao Ying hostage.”

“Don’t worry—I’ll cripple his limbs then. He won’t be able to take anyone hostage.”

Nie Huaishang: “I support this idea.”

Guo Jing: “No mercy needed against him—I agree.”

Zhang Chu’an: “What about the fifth limb—do we cripple that too?”

Zhang Xiaofan: “Get lost.”

Four years passed in a flash—Xiao Zhuang, He Chenguang, and Li Erniu had all enlisted.

Graduates of military academy undergrad programs usually become lieutenants, so Guo Jing and Zhang Chu’an were assigned as platoon leaders in the Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company.

Nie Huaishang and Zhang Xiaofan became platoon leaders in the Sharpshooter Fourth Company.

As soon as Guo Jing and Zhang Chu’an arrived at the Night Tiger Reconnaissance Company, Company Commander Miao welcomed them warmly.

“By the way, with your records, you could’ve gone straight to Langya Battalion—why are you here?”

Company Commander Miao asked, puzzled.

He had reviewed their files: top graduates from the National University of Defense Technology, who had captured the head of the K2 organization, Black Cat, before enrollment—such a feat alone qualified them to lead a special forces squad.

“Company Commander, you’re too kind. We may match special forces in hand-to-hand combat and marksmanship, but we’re far behind in troop leadership—we still need grassroots experience.”

Guo Jing replied calmly and respectfully.

“Alright, good lad. The fact you think this way shows you’re excellent.”

Company Commander Miao looked at Guo Jing with admiration—after capturing Black Cat, maintaining such humility was impressive.

“Alright, our company just received a batch of new recruits needing training—you two will lead them.”

Company Commander Miao quickly assigned Zhang Chu’an and Guo Jing.

Guo Jing and Zhang Chu’an had no objections and went to the new recruit training site to meet them.

There, they saw an old soldier pointing a pen at a recruit and shouting:

“That soldier! I’m talking to you, soldier!”

The recruit turned, annoyed: “I’m not ‘that soldier’—I’m Zhuang Yan.”