Dawn broke over the rebel camp, weighed down by an air of exhaustion and despair. Xu Anping awoke, feeling the cold seeping through the thin cot he slept on. Beside him, Liang stirred as well, his sleepy eyes focusing on the small amount of light filtering through the cracks in the tent. The previous day had been long and exhausting, and the new day promised to be no different.
They had been assigned to a military training routine, but what was supposed to forge peasants into soldiers capable of facing an organized army felt inefficient, even chaotic. From the moment Xu Anping and Liang lined up with other recruits at dawn, it was evident that the rebel army lacked competent leadership. Most of the officers were peasants who could barely read, let alone understand war tactics or effective strategies.
The leaders divided them into groups and handed out rudimentary sticks, similar to the ones they used to work the land. There were no real swords, no shields, no bows. Only sticks and half-shouted orders that seemed more like improvisations than actual military instructions. The rebels based their training on one-on-one combat simulations, where recruits faced each other for hours under the scorching sun, without breaks or rest.
As Xu Anping clashed his stick against another recruit's, he couldn't help but feel his frustration growing. Despite the constant shouting from the officers, the "battles" they simulated seemed more like clumsy, meaningless struggles than actual military training. Most of the recruits barely knew how to hold a stick properly, and exhaustion was palpable in every imprecise strike. Xu Anping tried to stay focused, but he knew that what they were doing would hardly prepare them to face a trained imperial army.
During one of the training sessions, an officer—an overweight peasant with only two teeth in his mouth—tried to demonstrate how to defend against an attack. He clumsily raised his stick and, unintentionally, struck another recruit on the head, knocking him unconscious. Chaos erupted as some recruits rushed to help the injured, while the embarrassed officer shouted contradictory orders, unsure of how to handle the situation.
Xu Anping watched the disorder with a mixture of helplessness and rage. It was clear that these officers lacked the experience and preparation needed to lead an army. The scene stuck in his mind as a symbol of the general incompetence surrounding them, further fueling his discontent. He knew that if things continued this way, when the time came to face the imperial soldiers, many of his comrades would be doomed.
Liang, his companion in this suffering, despite the physical and mental exhaustion, kept a fire in his eyes that Xu Anping recognized well: the flame of revenge. Liang wasn't just training to survive; every strike of his stick was fueled by the pain and anger he carried inside. His desire for revenge against the empire, against those who had destroyed his lands and people, kept him standing, even when others fell, defeated by exhaustion.
"This is ridiculous," Liang muttered between gasps, after awkwardly deflecting a blow from his opponent. "They're preparing us to die, not to fight."
Xu Anping nodded silently but said nothing. Although Liang couldn't see it, his companion's obsession with revenge was also weakening him. Xu Anping, on the other hand, knew that in this situation, he couldn't afford to be ruled by rage or despair. Survival required more than brute strength; it required calm, observation, and patience.
Each day became an exercise for Xu Anping, not only of physical endurance but of emotional control. He had to think about how to survive in this army, where death was almost certain. The officers were incompetent, the equipment inadequate, and the rations scarce. But if he wanted to live, he would have to find a way to adapt, to navigate this chaos without succumbing to the hopelessness that was already consuming many of his comrades. In his mind, Xu Anping began weaving a plan, a way to move within this dysfunctional structure, waiting for the right moment to act.
Despite how ineffective everything seemed, over time, the recruits began to show some improvement. The clumsy initial movements became somewhat more coordinated, and though most still lacked the skill of a professional soldier, at least they no longer looked like untrained peasants wielding sticks. Xu Anping knew that this small improvement wouldn't be enough when the time came to face the imperial soldiers, but at least it would be better than fighting them with bare hands.
When the day's training ended, Xu Anping and Liang dragged themselves back to their tents, their bodies aching and exhausted. Their hands were covered in blisters, and their muscles were tense from the effort. As night fell, they knew the only reward awaiting them was a small ration of food that barely managed to calm the hunger roaring in their stomachs.
Meanwhile, Xu Sanhua and the woman they traveled with had been separated from the group and assigned to logistical tasks. The woman, whose experience as a cook in her hometown made her especially valuable, was taken directly to the rebel camp's kitchens. Despite the harsh conditions, her culinary skills were appreciated, as she had the ability to transform scarce ingredients into meals that, though simple, at least filled the soldiers' stomachs.
Xu Sanhua, on the other hand, had been assigned to a group tasked with transporting supplies. She now found herself among a line of carts pulled by mules, loaded with sacks of rice and other provisions. The wheels creaked over the dusty road, and the weight of the supplies made the carts move slowly over the uneven terrain.
Before leaving for one of the nearby cities to deliver the supplies, Xu Sanhua said goodbye to her brother. The sadness in her eyes was unmistakable.
"Take care of yourself, brother," she said softly, her voice trembling as she hugged Xu Anping. "I don't know when we'll see each other again."
Xu Anping felt a pang of pain upon hearing those words. Though he tried to stay strong, he couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability. Xu Sanhua was all he had left of his family. Watching her leave reminded him of how alone he truly was.
"Take care of yourself too," he replied, trying to sound firm despite the worry gnawing at him. "We'll see each other again, I promise."
Xu Sanhua climbed into the cart with the other transporters and, with one last glance, disappeared down the road leading out of the camp. Xu Anping watched until she was no longer visible, feeling the weight of responsibility crush him a little more. He knew his sister was now exposed to different dangers, but at least she'd be safer there than here with the combat troops.
Li Yuan, on the other hand, lived a completely different reality. He had been assigned to a small group of rebel leaders, tasked with teaching them how to read and write. This job, though monotonous, granted him three daily meals and a comfortable place to sleep, a luxury compared to the conditions of the other recruits.
Sitting in a tent with several of those leaders, Li Yuan patiently taught them how to trace the lines of the simplest characters. Many of them were peasants who had never held a pen in their hands, but the need to learn how to read orders, maps, and basic communications drove them to try.
Despite his calm exterior, over time, Li Yuan began to feel a growing sense of superiority. Each day, as he sat before the leaders and watched them clumsily trace the characters on sheets of paper, he couldn't help but compare himself to his former companions. While he enjoyed three daily meals and a comfortable position, Xu Anping, Liang, and the others were out in the field, exhausted and hungry, enduring useless training.
This difference fed a growing disconnect between him and the rest. He felt smarter, more valuable to the rebel cause. In his mind, he convinced himself that his role, though it didn't involve direct combat, was crucial to the movement's success. As the days passed, the empathy he once felt towards Xu Anping and the others began to fade, replaced by a quiet coldness that distanced him from his former comrades.
As night fell, Xu Anping, exhausted from the day's training, lay down on his makeshift cot. Liang, beside him, slowly ate the little bread they had been given, his gaze lost in the darkness of the tent.
"This can't go on like this," Liang said quietly. "If they send us to fight in this state, we won't survive."
Xu Anping nodded silently. He knew his friend was right. The rebel army wasn't prepared to face the empire, at least not in the way they were training. But he also knew there weren't many options. They were trapped in this struggle, and the only alternative was to keep going, hoping that somehow, the circumstances would change.
Liang, however, remained fixated on his desire for revenge. Despite the exhaustion, Xu Anping could see how his friend kept his head high, driven by the anger that gave him strength.
"I can't die without taking a few of those bastards down with us," Liang muttered. "I can't."
Xu Anping didn't reply, but inside, he felt a mix of concern and respect for his friend. Liang was willing to do whatever it took to get his revenge, even if it meant his own destruction. But Xu Anping knew that the key to survival wasn't just in strength or revenge; he would have to be more cunning, more calculated. In his mind, he began to think about how to overcome this situation.