Chen Xiang sat in the clinic, his knee propped up on a stool while Zhang Ruoxuan carefully examined the swelling. Her touch was light but precise, and her brow furrowed in concentration as she pressed around the inflamed area. He gritted his teeth to ignore the sharp twinges of pain, focusing instead on her calm presence. She worked silently, her professionalism a stark contrast to her playful demeanor during their earlier encounters.
"You've been pushing too hard," she said finally, straightening up. "It's a minor tear in your meniscus, but if you don't let it heal properly, it'll get worse."
"How long will it take?" Chen Xiang asked, trying to mask the frustration in his voice.
"A couple of weeks, at least," Ruoxuan replied, scribbling something on her clipboard. "No running, no heavy lifting, and definitely no obstacle courses."
Her tone was firm, leaving no room for negotiation. Two weeks of rest might as well have been an eternity in the relentless pace of training. Falling behind wasn't an option. "I can't just sit out," he said, his jaw tightening. "I'll get dropped from the program."
"You won't get dropped," she countered, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "But if you don't take care of this, you could end up with a permanent injury. What's the point of pushing through if you can't walk properly by the end of it?"
Her words hit like a blow, not because they were harsh, but because they were true. He clenched his fists, the helplessness pressing on his chest like a weight. She seemed to sense it, softening her tone as she set the clipboard aside.
"Look," she began, leaning slightly closer. "I know it's hard to sit back when you're used to fighting through everything. But sometimes the smart move is knowing when to pause. You'll come back stronger if you let yourself heal."
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the storm of emotions inside him quieted. He hated the idea of stepping back, but her sincerity left no room for argument. Slowly, he nodded. "Alright. I'll take it easy."
A small smile curved her lips, a flicker of warmth breaking through her professional demeanor. "Good. And I'll check on you to make sure you're not cheating."
The promise of her keeping an eye on him lightened the moment, but only slightly. As she handed him a prescription for anti-inflammatory medication, her fingers brushed his, brief and accidental. He noticed, though she didn't seem to.
The days that followed were excruciating—not from pain, but from watching his squadmates push themselves to their limits while he sat on the sidelines. The hours dragged as he was relegated to lighter activities—stretching, stationary exercises, and tedious rounds of physical therapy. He hated every minute. Every time the drill sergeants barked orders, his fingers itched to join the fray. Watching the others excel while he sat idle was a humiliation he struggled to endure.
During breaks, Zhang Wei made it his personal mission to keep Chen Xiang entertained. His easygoing attitude often grated on Chen Xiang's already strained patience, but it was hard to stay annoyed for long. One evening, as they sat on the steps of the barracks, Zhang Wei nudged him with an elbow.
"Cheer up, man," he said, grinning. "You've got VIP treatment. You even have your own personal doctor keeping an eye on you."
Chen Xiang gave him a sideways glance, smirking despite himself. "She's not my personal doctor."
"Sure she isn't," Zhang Wei teased, waggling his eyebrows. "But seriously, you've got to give yourself a break. You'll catch up when the time comes."
Chen Xiang said nothing, staring into the distance as the sun dipped below the horizon. The fiery orange of the sky reflected the simmering frustration he kept bottled inside. He hated waiting, hated feeling weak. But deep down, he knew Zhang Wei had a point.
Later that night, as the barracks settled into silence, he found himself pulling out the notebook his mother had given him. Flipping through the pages, his eyes fell on a simple message written in her neat handwriting: "Strength isn't just about pushing through. It's about knowing when to rest."
He closed the notebook and lay back on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Her words echoed in his mind, intertwining with Ruoxuan's advice. Maybe they were both right. Maybe stepping back now wasn't a failure, but a chance to come back even stronger.