Chapter 8: Exam 2

Damn, I actually got in! No wonder it's me! Li Yuxuan pinched the admission notice printed with Baoding Army Accelerated Academy, so excited he nearly jumped up, drawing odd looks from a few students in gray uniforms nearby. He quickly composed himself, folded the notice carefully and slipped it into his chest, but couldn't help a grin.

Yuxuan, what are you doing? Come over, it's time to eat! Jiang Ruiyuan's voice came from the cafeteria direction. He wore a fitted uniform, standing much more upright than back in Xikou, though the same defiant edge lingered in his brows; his cuffs were rolled, revealing sturdy forearms.

Here I am, Young Master! Li Yuxuan hurried after him, muttering inwardly: I got in only by clinging to knowledge from the future, unlike Jiang Ruiyuan, who earned his place with solid grades—his rank wasn't top, but steady enough. Life really is like a big intestine wrapped around a small one, full of surprises.

Life at the academy was both monotonous and tense. Before dawn each day we had to rise for drills—practice formations, bayonet fighting, and horsemanship; afternoons were theory classes covering tactics, weapons, and surveying. Jiang Ruiyuan was keen on all of it, especially riding; his first mount left him with a bruised butt and a hole in his trousers, yet he got up as if nothing and kept training, soon able to trot a short distance and proudly showed off in front of Li Yuxuan.

Li Yuxuan relied on rote memorization; his theory grades were top of the class, but he showed his weakness in practical sessions. His bayonet moves were stiff, constantly having the instructor's wooden spear flick the practice knife out of his hand. Horsemanship was even worse—each time he mounted it felt as if his life were at stake, the reins gripped so tightly his body was as rigid as a board, earning him repeated scoldings as a frail scholar, with the instructor saying he would be nothing but a live target on the battlefield.

Your physique needs training. Jiang Ruiyuan massaged Li Yuxuan's bruised arm in the dormitory, applying firm pressure that made Li grit his teeth in pain. "When you actually go to the front, just knowing the books won't help; you must be able to fight and run, otherwise bullets won't miss."

Got it, got it. Li Yuxuan inhaled the cold air, "But I'm not cut out for war; I've never even killed a chicken before. Moreover, after being thrust here, I became a scribe within a few years."

Even so, he kept training in secret. Every night after everyone fell asleep, he slipped to a corner of the field and practiced stabbing moves against an old locust tree, silently chanting "thrust—advance" over and over until his arm could no longer lift, then stopped. He knew that in this chaotic era, without real skill, mere talk wouldn't keep him alive; no matter how powerful the knowledge from the future, it's useless without ability.

Days passed one by one, and before long the final exam arrived.

This exam was unusual—students ranking in the top fifty would earn the qualification to Study Abroad in Japan and enter a Japanese-language school, while the rest would remain at Baoding School and, after graduation, be assigned to the new army units across the country.

It was a clear crossroads leading to completely different futures.

The exam hall was so quiet you could hear the rustle of pen tips on paper. Li Yuxuan sat by the window, his palms slightly sweaty. He glanced at Jiang Ruiyuan beside him, seeing him furrowed in concentration over a tactical simulation question, his pen sketching diagrams rapidly, occasionally biting the pen barrel in thought, his profile bathed in sunlight looking especially focused.

The surrounding students wore varied expressions—some confident, writing swiftly; others frowning, scratching ears and cheeks; and some furtively glancing around, eyes flickering, clearly trying to cheat, but they quickly withdrew when an invigilating instructor shot them a glare.

Li Yuxuan took a deep breath and looked at his paper. Theory questions weren't hard for him; rote memorization let him know the textbook and the instructor's handouts inside out, and he could accurately transcribe every rule from the Infantry Drill Manual and Tactical Studies, punctuation included.

But the final essay question stumped him—compare the strengths and weaknesses of the Chinese and Japanese armies and explain how our new army should improve.

The question tested not just dead knowledge but understanding of the current situation. Li Yuxuan frowned as thoughts of Mr. Gu Qinglian's words, newspaper reports on the Russo-Japanese War, and his own vague memories from a past life flickered through his mind. The passages about the disastrous defeat in the First Sino-Japanese War and the descriptions of the Japanese army's rigorous training pierced his heart like needles.

He clenched his teeth and wrote: The Japanese Army's strength lies in strict discipline, flexible tactics, and unity of command. Our new army, though its equipment is becoming finer, suffers from rampant factions, inconsistent command, and soldiers who are mostly mercenaries lacking fighting spirit…

The method of improvement begins with unifying the organization and eliminating factions. Next is ideological enlightenment, so soldiers know why they fight. Moreover, we should emulate Japan's conscription system, integrating soldiers with agriculture to build a reserve force…

As he wrote, he suddenly felt he was no longer the time‑traveler who only wanted to loaf. These words were both an answer to the exam and a shout at the era. The ink bled on the paper, as if the smell of gunpowder could be sensed.

The bell signaling the end of the exam rang, and students handed in their papers, faces showing either relief or heaviness. Jiang Ruiyuan walked over, patted his shoulder, and asked, "How do you feel? Do you think you'll make it to Japan?"

Hard to say. Li Yuxuan shook his head, "I think I wrote the last question too radically; the instructor might not be pleased."

Radical is better. Jiang Ruiyuan laughed, flashing two rows of white teeth. "If this academy only recruited rule‑followers, what's the point? I told you, I just cursed the Imperial Court in the essay, saying they only know how to cut soldiers' pay, not how to build a strong army, and I wonder if the instructor will give me a zero."

Li Yuxuan helplessly shook his head. This guy still dares to speak like that; isn't he afraid of being called in for a lecture?

Leaving the exam hall, the sun was just right outside; on the field, younger students were drilling, their chant of "one, two, one" rising and falling, buzzing in the ears. Li Yuxuan stared at the yellow dragon flag fluttering on the distant pole, feeling a sudden unease.

He didn't know whether he'd make the top fifty, nor whether going to Japan was good or bad. History from his past life told him Japan was the chief aggressor in the invasion of China, its hands soaked in Chinese blood. Yet now, Japan does possess more advanced military knowledge and worthwhile doctrines for governing troops.

Whatever it is, let's wait for the results first. Jiang Ruiyuan saw his thoughts, patted his back firmly, "Even if you can't go to Japan, study hard at Baoding, and you'll still carve out a future. Haven't you forgotten? We're meant to become generals!"

Li Yuxuan nodded, following him toward the cafeteria. The wind swept across the field, carrying dust and an indescribable restlessness. In the distance, a horn sounded, long and clear, as if urging something and foretelling something. He knew that, regardless of the results, his life had already taken a road with no turning back.