The morning air was sharp, cutting through the barracks as the whistle's shrill blast jolted Chen Xiang awake. He swung his legs off the bunk, stretching his aching muscles as his squad scrambled into their uniforms. The routine had become second nature, but today there was a palpable tension in the air. Word had spread the night before—a new endurance test awaited them, one designed to push them to their limits.
Chen Xiang tightened his boots, his knee wrapped snugly under a brace. The lingering pain was a dull reminder of the weeks he'd spent recovering, but he wasn't about to let it hold him back. Today was his chance to prove he could keep up, that he hadn't lost the edge that had always set him apart.
The recruits gathered at the field, their breaths visible in the cool morning air. The obstacle course loomed ahead, more challenging than before. Walls were higher, ropes slick with dew, and the muddy trenches looked deeper than he remembered. The drill sergeant's voice cut through the quiet, sharp and commanding.
"You've got one hour to complete this course. Fail, and you run it again until you pass."
Chen Xiang exchanged a glance with Zhang Wei, who grinned despite the obvious challenge. "No pressure," Zhang Wei muttered, earning a faint smirk from Chen Xiang.
The whistle blew, and they were off. Chen Xiang launched himself forward, his feet pounding against the uneven ground. The first wall came into view, and he scaled it with practiced ease, the burn in his arms reminding him of how much he'd missed this. The rope climb was next, and though his hands slipped against the damp fibers, he reached the top, his breath coming in heavy gasps.
But as he approached the third obstacle—a series of logs balanced over muddy pits—his knee gave a warning jolt. He hesitated for a split second, his mind racing. Slow down or push through? The decision was made for him as the recruit behind him shouted, "Move it!"
Chen Xiang gritted his teeth and stepped forward, his balance wavering as the log shifted under his weight. He adjusted quickly, his body remembering the rhythm despite the pain. By the time he reached the other side, his knee was throbbing, but he pressed on.
The course blurred into a series of challenges: crawling through mud, scaling another wall, sprinting through uneven terrain. Each step pushed him further, tested his resolve. His knee screamed for relief, but he ignored it, focused solely on the finish line.
By the time he crossed it, his chest was heaving, his uniform soaked with sweat and mud. He collapsed onto the ground, his knee burning with sharp, unforgiving pain. Zhang Wei appeared beside him, offering a hand.
"Hell of a run," Zhang Wei said, pulling him to his feet. "You alright?"
"Yeah," Chen Xiang replied, though his voice lacked conviction.
The drill sergeant's voice echoed across the field. "Good effort, recruits. But some of you need to learn the difference between strength and stupidity."
Chen Xiang caught the sergeant's gaze, a flicker of disapproval in his expression. He straightened, ignoring the twisting in his knee.
That evening, as the barracks fell into an exhausted silence, Chen Xiang made his way to the medical station. He didn't want to go, but the swelling in his knee left him little choice. Ruoxuan looked up from her desk as he entered, her expression shifting from mild curiosity to concern.
"Let me guess," she said, standing and motioning for him to sit. "You overdid it."
Chen Xiang sat down, avoiding her gaze. "I finished the course."
"And at what cost?" she countered, crouching in front of him to examine his knee. Her fingers were gentle but firm, pressing just enough to make him wince. "It's swollen again. You're lucky you didn't tear it further."
"I couldn't stop," he said, his voice quiet but resolute. "If I did, I would've fallen behind."
Ruoxuan sighed, standing and crossing her arms. "Chen Xiang, do you even know what you're trying to prove?"
He met her gaze, his jaw tightening. "That I can keep up. That I'm not weak."
"You're not weak," she said, her voice softening. "But pushing yourself to the point of injury doesn't make you strong. It makes you reckless."
The weight of her words hung between them. He looked away, his hands clenched into fists. For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"You're not alone in this," she said finally, her tone gentler. "You've got people who want to help you, but you have to let them."
Chen Xiang nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. She handed him an ice pack, her fingers brushing his for the briefest moment. "Rest tonight. And no training tomorrow."
He took the ice pack, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a faint smile. "You're really good at scolding people, you know that?"
Ruoxuan laughed softly. "Comes with the job."
As he left the medical station, the night air cool against his face, Chen Xiang felt a flicker of something he hadn't allowed himself to feel in weeks: hope. For the first time, he began to wonder if strength wasn't just about endurance, but about knowing when to lean on others.