Chapter 204

First Volume, Chapter 204: Sharpening Weapons and Feeding Horses

Qin Feng immediately whispered a few words into Ning Hu's ear.

Though Ning Hu looked astonished, he still followed Qin Feng's orders and announced loudly: "Within half a Envoy, run one full lap around Jingdu. Those who fail to arrive on time will be denied breakfast tomorrow. Those who fail to complete this task five times in a row will be eliminated and sent back to the City Patrol Bureau."

At these words, the soldiers who had just been brimming with enthusiasm instantly wilted like eggplants struck by frost.

A chorus of groans rose without end.

"Half a Envoy? How is that possible! Even riding a horse takes half a Envoy—do our legs outpace horse legs?"

"Never mind whether we can make it or not—running at full speed for half a Envoy will exhaust us to death!"

"Young Master Qin, even the elite troops who train daily couldn't possibly manage this task."

Hearing the soldiers' complaints, Qin Feng offered no explanation and didn't even bother wasting time on them—he simply turned and sat down in the pavilion, draped a blanket over himself, and casually told Qin Xiaofu: "Wake me in half a Envoy."

Xu Mo, though also finding this task excessively harsh, had placed absolute trust in Qin Feng since the moment he joined him, and now sneered coldly: "Timing has begun. Go ahead and keep complaining and moaning—those who fail in half a Envoy will lose their breakfast."

Hearing this, the soldiers, knowing they couldn't succeed, gritted their teeth and ran toward the City Wall.

At that moment, Qin Feng stuck his head out of the jar and grunted twice at Xu Mo and Ning Hu: "Hey, you two, standing around doing nothing? You're not exempt?"

Ning Hu and Xu Mo exchanged bewildered glances, then burst into bitter smiles, and set off after the soldiers.

Half a Envoy passed quickly.

As Qin Feng had predicted, Ning Hu and Xu Mo were both sons of official families with ample time and resources for training—their physical conditioning was incomparable to the soldiers'. They returned just on time.

But both collapsed immediately upon arrival, gasping for breath, too exhausted to move.

Even the offspring of a Military Clan were this worn out—what could be expected of ordinary soldiers?

Qin Feng sat up, wrapping himself in the blanket. Though autumn harvest was still three months away, the night air beyond the city was chilly.

Nearly an incense stick time passed before scattered soldiers finally appeared in Qin Feng's line of sight.

Every single soldier, the moment they reached Qin Feng, collapsed from exhaustion—had they not been gasping for air, they might as well have been dead.

Marching was not difficult for any soldier of this era, but marching in formation versus high-intensity sprinting were vastly different.

These men were accustomed to slow, deliberate tactics; faced with sudden, brutal training, merely surviving to the end was already a miracle.

Another half a Envoy later, all three hundred soldiers finally assembled.

Looking at the soldiers sprawled across the ground, Qin Feng shook his head, his eyes filled with disappointment: "You took a full Envoy to run one lap around the city—and you're completely spent. With bodies like yours, go home and farm. Otherwise, you'll only die on the Battlefield."

Facing Qin Feng's merciless mockery, the soldiers hung their heads, their earlier spirit utterly gone.

At that moment, one soldier stood up defiantly, fists clenched, staring at Qin Feng: "I refuse to accept this! Marching demands discipline and formation—how can you maintain formation while sprinting like this? When facing enemies in battle, you must form ranks and rely on each other—there's no need to run!"

"Young Master Qin is a scholar by origin. Though your military talent is admirable, this training method is out of touch with reality."

Though the other soldiers didn't voice objections, their eyes clearly showed strong agreement with this man's words.

Facing the challenge, Qin Feng narrowed his eyes and smiled with the benevolent air of an elder, pointing at the soldier who had spoken: "Twenty Staff Strikes! Haul him back to the City Patrol Bureau!"

The soldier stared in shock, still dazed, when Xu Mo dragged him away. Soon, wails of pain echoed.

Not only the soldiers present, but even the New Army soldiers nearby hauling timber frowned, convinced Qin Feng was a decent Commander but a terrible drillmaster.

Qin Feng ignored the suspicious glances around him. He sat cross-legged on the Tengyi Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair, arms crossed, and gestured to Qin Xiaofu to bring charcoal, speaking absentmindedly: "I've said it before: a soldier's only duty is obedience. No matter what order I give, questioning it is forbidden—only obedience, and more obedience. Even if I'm wrong and you're right, you obey."

"Want to offer suggestions? Fine! First report to your Sergeant. He passes it to the Battalion Commander. The Battalion Commander passes it to Ning Hu or Xu Mo. They bring it to me. Remember this: unless your superior is tyrannical, never overstep your rank!"

"I know you're all resentful now, thinking I'm just a scholar, talking big without lifting a finger. Fine—I'll make you believe me."

Qin Feng threw back the blanket, stretched his limbs, and ran toward the City Wall.

His pace wasn't fast, but it was steady, and as he ran, he adjusted his breathing rhythm.

Half a Envoy later, Qin Feng slowly appeared in the soldiers' view.

Though he returned nearly one cup of tea time past the deadline, when he sat back down on the Tengyi Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair Chair, everyone noticed: Qin Feng was flushed and breathing harder, but he didn't collapse like the others—he could still move.

Everyone stared, dumbfounded.

"Young Master Qin actually ran it? How is that possible? He's just a scholar…"

"Though he was slower than Commander Xu and Little Marquis, he looked… effortless…"

Not just the soldiers—even Xu Mo and Ning Hu were astonished, never imagining Qin Feng possessed such physical strength.

Isn't this guy supposed to be a weakling who can't carry a sack or lift a sword?

What they didn't know…

Qin Feng had told Qin Xiaofu to fetch charcoal, but in truth, he'd arranged a carriage and cheated.

In his past life, running this distance meant nothing—he'd been fit. But this body? Long since squeezed dry by wine, women, wealth, and luxury—it couldn't have held up.

He did this only to make them understand the importance of physical conditioning.

Qin Feng raised an eyebrow and said brazenly: "Now? Who still thinks I'm unfit to train you? If this were the Battlefield and cavalry were chasing you, you'd all die before me anyway."

The soldiers fell silent, their eyes filled with shame.

Having achieved his goal, Qin Feng didn't delay—he returned to the subject: "You're all accustomed to slow, methodical tactics, step by step. That's fine for group warfare."

"But I've said it: the New Army is Liang's sharp blade—we operate in squads, penetrating deep behind enemy lines! No comrades to cover you, no support—once the Enemy Army spots you, death is certain. Your physical conditioning is the key to survival!"

Saying this, Qin Feng sighed lightly: "I'm sending you to defend your homeland—not to throw your lives away!"