The morning air was heavy with mist as Chen Xiang jogged slowly along the camp's perimeter. His knee still ached, but the sharp pain had dulled to a manageable throb. Weeks of enforced rest and physical therapy had tempered his frustration, but the weight of being left behind still gnawed at him. He glanced toward the obstacle course, where his squadmates were tackling the wall climb. Their shouts and grunts echoed through the air, a stark reminder of how far he'd fallen behind.
He adjusted his pace, focusing on the rhythmic pounding of his feet against the dirt. The drill sergeant had finally cleared him for light activity, and though it wasn't much, it was enough to reignite the fire in his chest. Every step felt like a small victory, a sign that he was clawing his way back.
As he rounded a bend, he spotted Zhang Wei sitting on a fallen log, panting heavily. His usually cocky grin was replaced by a grimace of exhaustion. Chen Xiang slowed to a stop, hands on his hips as he caught his breath.
"You alright?" he asked, his voice steady despite his own fatigue.
Zhang Wei waved him off, though his breathing was labored. "Yeah, just... taking a breather. They've been pushing us harder every day."
Chen Xiang nodded, glancing toward the training field where the others were still running drills. "It doesn't let up, does it?"
"Nope." Zhang Wei straightened, brushing the dirt off his pants. "But you're back on your feet, so that's something. How's the knee?"
"Better," Chen Xiang replied, rolling his shoulder. "Still not perfect, but I'll catch up."
Zhang Wei smirked, slapping him on the back. "Damn right you will. I don't know how you stayed sane sitting out for so long. I'd have gone crazy."
Chen Xiang chuckled softly, though he didn't mention the countless nights he'd spent staring at the ceiling, his thoughts a storm of frustration and self-doubt. The truth was, he had come close to losing his composure more than once. But Ruoxuan's words had stuck with him, grounding him when his patience wore thin.
By the time the sun reached its peak, Chen Xiang was drenched in sweat. He had pushed himself further than he should have, but the satisfaction of feeling his body respond to the effort was worth the discomfort. He collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving as he stared up at the clear blue sky.
"You're overdoing it again," a familiar voice called out.
He turned his head to see Ruoxuan walking toward him, her expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. She carried her ever-present clipboard, though her pace was unhurried.
"Just trying to make up for lost time," he said, propping himself up on his elbows.
Ruoxuan crouched beside him, her eyes narrowing as she studied his knee. "I can see that. But if you push too hard, you'll end up right back in the clinic."
"Noted," Chen Xiang replied with a small grin. "You checking up on me?"
"Someone has to," she said, her tone light but pointed. "And since you clearly have no self-control, I guess that someone is me."
Her playful sarcasm brought a laugh to his lips. "Well, I appreciate it. Even if it means you're here to scold me."
Ruoxuan rolled her eyes, standing up and extending a hand to help him. "Come on, overachiever. You've done enough for today."
He took her hand, letting her pull him to his feet. For a moment, they stood there, her hand lingering in his. She seemed to realize it at the same time he did, and she quickly let go, clearing her throat.
"You're doing well," she said, glancing away. "Just... don't overdo it."
Chen Xiang nodded, watching as she walked back toward the medical station. There was something about her—her sharp wit, her unspoken kindness—that stayed with him long after she was gone.
That night, as the barracks settled into a quiet hum of conversation and snoring, Chen Xiang sat by the window, his notebook open in his lap. The stars outside seemed brighter here, away from the city lights. He jotted down a few lines, his handwriting uneven as he tried to put his thoughts into words.
Strength isn't just about endurance. Sometimes, it's about trusting others to help you when you need it.
He set the pen down, his gaze drifting to the faint reflection of his face in the window. For the first time since he had arrived at camp, he felt like he was starting to understand what strength truly meant.