Chapter 7: Exam 1

There are three days left until the enrollment exam for the Baoding Army Accelerated Academy, and a small river outside the county town shimmers with tide, its reeds rustling in the wind. Li Yuxuan squats on a bluestone slab, staring blankly at the babbling water; his reflection on the surface still bears a youthful freshness, yet his eyes hide a melancholy beyond his years.

"Hey, why are you sulking while squatting here?" A foot gave his heel a neither light nor heavy kick. Jiang Ruiyuan's voice carried his usual cheerfulness; he clenched a dog‑eared copy of the Infantry Drill Manual in his hand, its blue cover faded from the sun, the corners still stained with a bit of mud.

Li Yuxuan didn't turn around, gazing at his blurry reflection on the water, sighing softly: "Alas, life… Young Master, do you think my whole life, treading on thin ice, can ever reach the other shore?"

Jiang Ruiyuan came over, squatted beside him, frowned and examined him: "??? Yuxuan, hasn't your life only just begun? You're only fifteen this year, right?" He scratched his head, genuinely puzzled. "I don't get why you're so dispirited. It's just an entrance exam, isn't it? If you fail, at worst you go home to farm, or learn business from my mother—what's the big deal?"

Li Yuxuan twitched the corner of his mouth, revealing a smile uglier than crying. He couldn't say that inside him lay a life spanning decades—knowing future endless wars, battlefields strewn with corpses, countless people and events he longed to grasp but couldn't. In this chaotic age, the words "other shore" sound like a mirage, shattering at the slightest touch.

"I just think… the road ahead is too hard," Li Yuxuan mumbled vaguely, his fingers unconsciously picking at the moss in the stone slab's crevice.

"Only the difficult should be tackled," Jiang Ruiyuan patted his shoulder, the force enough to make his arm tingle. He thrust the Infantry Drill Manual toward him, "Stop worrying about nonsense, grab the basics quickly. I heard the exam covers formation terminology and tactical Q&A; it's all in here, so look it over right away."

Li Yuxuan took the booklet, flipped it open casually; dense characters crowded his sight—"Stand at attention—At ease, March—" and various firearm models and specifications, making his head spin. After flipping a few pages haphazardly, he slapped the book shut, his gaze drifting absentmindedly back to the river. Days passed one by one; what must come, cannot ultimately be avoided.

Finally, the day of the exam arrived.

The Baoding Army Accelerated Academy's testing site was set up in the county's Confucian Temple; its vermilion doors stood open, and the Stone Lion at the entrance stared with round eyes at the throng of dark‑haired people. Young aspirants packed together, each wearing long robes faded to white or patched short jackets, their faces both nervous and excited, probing each other for rumors about the exam questions.

Jiang Ruiyuan clutched two crumpled admission tickets, his palms slick with sweat, yet he kept urging Li Yuxuan: "Don't be nervous; failing isn't the end. At worst we retake next year, or enlist, and we can still become generals."

Li Yuxuan hummed, but inside felt like a rabbit trapped in his chest, thumping erratically. He followed the crowd into the Confucian Temple, bypassed the green smoke drifting from the incense burner, and entered the examination hall beside the main hall. Inside were dozens of long tables; examinees took seats one after another, some furtively pulling cheat sheets from their cuffs, nervously stuffing them into their heads.

Li Yuxuan chose a seat by the window, watching the surrounding candidates roll up their sleeves, his palms also sweating. He inhaled deeply, telling himself: "It's just an exam, right? I've taken countless tests in my past life; why fear this?"

But when the exam sheets were distributed, he glanced at them, and his head buzzed with a sudden thump.

The first few questions were easy, covering arithmetic and general knowledge—"Now there are chickens and rabbits in one cage, thirty‑five heads above, ninety‑four feet below; how many chickens and rabbits are there?" and "Explain the names of the Four Great Famous Mountains of our country." With his past‑life foundation, he handled them, his pen racing across the paper.

But the further he turned, the paler his face became.

Explain the similarities and differences between The Art of War and Western tactics—what the heck is this question? He only knew The Art of War had "know yourself, know the enemy"; is Western tactics just lining up for a firing squad?

If faced with a cavalry raid, how should infantry form up to resist—form up? In a square formation or a single‑file line? He had never even seen real cavalry!

Explain the essentials of rifle shooting—pull the trigger? Aim? Does that need explanation? Yet the answer must list the essentials; you can't just write "pull the trigger hard", can you?

Li Yuxuan stared at the test paper, his pen tip hovering in midair, unable to write a single character for ages. He furtively glanced at Jiang Ruiyuan ahead and to the side, seeing the guy furiously scribbling, ink splattering all over the sheet. Whether his answers were correct or not, he looked confident, as if those questions were everyday fare.

Ah? Damn fate? He wailed inwardly, his fingers unconsciously drumming the table. "I've time‑traveled; can I get a system? Others who time‑travel have golden fingers—either perfect recall or sky‑high combat stats. I'm about to become cannon fodder; give me some help!"

The only response was a few bird calls from outside the window and the rustle of examinees turning pages.

Sigh, fine, no system, so be it. Li Yuxuan clenched his teeth, steeling himself—it's just a minor exam; at worst I can blurt out nonsense, which is better than handing in a blank sheet.

He gripped his pen and began rambling about The Art of War and Western tactics: "Sun Tzu said warfare values victory, not duration; Western tactics are the same, emphasizing swift triumph… Since I'm unfamiliar with both, mixing them together might snag a few points."

When writing about infantry versus cavalry, he recalled stage battle formations and scribbled nonsense: "Use shields as walls, spears forward, form a circular array, front and rear watching each other… Whether correct or not, fill the page first."

As for shooting fundamentals, he simply wrote: "Three points in a line, hold breath, focus mind, no distraction, don't panic when pulling the trigger… That can't be marked wrong, can it?"

After the final character, he let out a long, hoarse sigh, lifted his head, and saw many examinees still hunched over, writing furiously; Jiang Ruiyuan had even begun re‑checking the papers from the start.

Li Yuxuan looked at his densely filled yet utterly uncertain paper, his heart still hollow, but at least a bit lighter. Whatever the outcome, he had survived this hurdle. He set the pen down, gazed at the clear sky beyond the window, silently murmuring: "What shore doesn't know its bank? For now, take one step, see what comes."

The sunlight outside the Confucian Temple was just right, making the vermilion doors gleam as if they held the hopes of countless youths. Li Yuxuan knew this was only the beginning; the real trials still awaited behind.