Chapter Fifteen: Disgrace

The lights-out signal had already sounded. Unlike his classmates, Chen Cao leaned against the edge of his bunk, watching the moonlight spill over his body. His eyes were wide open—not because he did not wish to sleep, but because he could not. Around him, his classmates had already begun to snore softly.

Loneliness, insomnia—it had plagued him for nearly two months, as if it had become a rule: whenever the lights-out signal sounded, and he heard the gentle snores of those exhausted by a day’s arduous training, he would begin to lie awake.

He had tried counting sheep, bending his fingers—every possible method—but the result was always the same: sleeplessness.

Ten more days, just ten days, and the basic training would be over. This group of classmates was drifting farther and farther from him. He had struggled with it, but now, everything—everything.

Everything seemed too normal, and yet everything felt not quite right.

He had told himself countless times that he was merely a passerby here, soon to leave; whether he made friends or not did not matter. But the same voice echoed beside him: “Chen Cao, you’re a coward—a coward in life, a coward who flees from reality. You’re afraid to face the truth because you fear that if you strive, you’ll lose yourself. You’re afraid of becoming ordinary.”

“Are you really going to spend five years here, only to return home and live out your days as a spoiled heir?”

Chen Cao pulled his blanket over his head. He dared not think, dared not imagine the future—perhaps that was the confusion he felt about what lay ahead.

The whistle for emergency assembly shrilled, interrupting Chen Cao’s tangled thoughts.

He knew it had nothing to do with him; he was exempt from emergency assemblies. In the eyes of his peers, he was the darling of the instructors. He knew well that the story of him bringing down leopards with his own hands had spread among the instructors, so after the three-month basic training, he would begin specialized studies. He was the object of fierce competition among the instructors.

But he did not want it; he could not explain why—perhaps because of his father, perhaps because he resented others arranging his life.

Thunderous footsteps—the other students were already packing their blankets and rushing out.

Soon, Chen Cao heard the gathering below: roll call, counting off. Then an instructor shouted, “Chen Cao! Why isn’t Chen Cao here?”

“What? Do I still need to be called? I’m a serious patient!” Chen Cao thought, but reluctantly dragged himself out, standing in the corridor and looking down, trying to calm his turbulent emotions with a forced grin. “Oh, so it’s Instructor Guo on duty tonight—I’m up here!”

Tonight, Guo Qianshuang seemed to have swallowed gunpowder. Normally, if Chen Cao joked like this, she would just smile. But now, her manner was strictly official, cold as ice: “Chen Cao, come down. Assemble immediately—we have a task.”

Chen Cao was startled. Seeing nothing unusual, he said, “Instructor, my leg isn’t convenient. I need someone to help me.”

“No one will help you. Come down yourself.” Guo Qianshuang’s voice was not loud, but in the silent assembly, every word rang clear.

Usually, if Chen Cao was called and had to go down, Guo Qianshuang would let Zhou Hongye support him. But today, faced with this sudden situation, Chen Cao did not react in time. If he walked down, it would mean his injury was healed.

He could sense the gaze of the assembled students fixed on Guo Qianshuang; every breath in the ranks was audible.

“If your leg isn't convenient, crawl down yourself!” The cold words from Guo Qianshuang pierced him like an ice pick.

After Chen Cao’s silence for three seconds, everyone began to feel the pause was interminable. Guo Qianshuang was always true to her word; if she demanded Chen Cao come down today, he would come down—if she demanded he crawl, he would crawl.

The students below all faced away from the dormitory building; only Guo Qianshuang looked up.

Chen Cao had vanished from sight.

Then came a commotion, followed by the sound of clothes scraping against the stairs, each movement striking the listeners’ ears.

Chen Cao, to avoid training, really crawled down from the fifth floor.

“This is shameless, a soft resistance, a humiliation beyond compare. What is wrong with this boy? This is the greatest disgrace 0611 has ever known!”

Everyone held their breath; they knew that what Chen Cao had done would soon cause a stir throughout the school.

On the monitor, Cao Wild Fox’s face was icy, the weak glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes.

“Your nephew is truly remarkable—seems even harder to handle than you imagined!” A figure seated on the sofa in the darkness smiled at Cao Wild Fox. “But I like this kid. With a bit of shaping, he has boundless potential!”

“Looks like he’s set a record for soft resistance among 0611’s instructors!” Cao Wild Fox took out a cigarette, lit it, but did not smoke—he just let it burn.

The man in the darkness stood and walked slowly to the monitor. Though he moved slowly, his motions were stiff; in that short distance, it was clear only one arm swung, only one leg moved. His face had one ear wrapped in black cloth, making him look terrifying in the dim light, and the four school flowers on his shoulder marked his rank.

He came beside Cao Wild Fox, took the cigarette from his fingers, took a drag, and slowly exhaled smoke. “You knew he would do this, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I knew he would. He’s fighting his father, fighting himself. Perhaps there’s an unspeakable pain in his heart.” Cao Wild Fox felt nothing as the man took his cigarette; he took it back, smoked, then handed it over again. As they spoke, the two exchanged the cigarette three or four times.

On the battlefield, tobacco was a precious commodity. Soldiers fought side by side, living each moment under the pressure of survival, and cigarettes were the best comfort. Since they were rare, it was common for comrades to share a single cigarette.

Cao Wild Fox and this man had clearly once been close comrades.

“So, what will you do?” the man asked.

“Since it’s begun, I’ll really break his leg.” Cao Wild Fox stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray. “Let him fall to life’s lowest point, so he’ll realize this world does not belong to him alone, and that some things in life are unavoidable.”

“Attention! About-face!” Guo Qianshuang watched as Chen Cao crawled to the first floor without hesitation, then ordered the ranks to turn toward the dormitory doors.

A crisp sound echoed as all eyes met Chen Cao as he crawled down the last step.

“Did you see? I don’t think you know—the one crawling down right now is the hero who slew two leopards by hand. Now, he’s dragging himself down the stairs on a crippled leg. Take a good look! In the sixty-one years since 0611 was founded, he’s the first student to crawl down from the dormitory to avoid training.”

Guo Qianshuang’s gaze was sharp as a sword, her voice resounding like thunder, shaking the hearts of all the students. They were soldiers now, and Chen Cao’s actions struck at their pride.

A rustling sound—Chen Cao’s face was deathly pale. As he stood, a stack of documents flew at his face; he did not catch them, letting them drift in the air.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the principal, but I will never allow 0611 to produce a disgrace like you. Do you think doctors here just sit around? Under my command, no student gets by doing nothing. From now on, you’ll train with that crippled leg until the school lets you leave!”

Guo Qianshuang coldly commanded the ranks: “Have you seen enough? Remember him—his name is Chen Cao, the disgrace of 0611. Now, start running laps around the field. Keep going until this disgrace catches up! Anyone who runs slower than their usual speed will lose all their points and can pack their bags and go home!”

Chen Cao kept his head down, staring at his heavily bandaged leg. He could choose not to run, but dozens of students had already started running swiftly around the field.

No one shirked—they were all willing, determined. They could not let their efforts go to waste. They had come here with dreams and the resolve to face death, believing their blood carried the spirit of their fathers—an indomitable soul.

Thirty minutes had passed. By their pace, they had run nearly ten kilometers around the field. Each time they passed Chen Cao, they did not even glance at him—they had begun to despise him.

One person’s mistake, the whole squad pays—a time-honored tradition in the army.

An hour passed. Some students, exhausted, slowed and began to collapse.

Chen Cao still did not move. He wanted to quit; now, he even thought of suicide. He bit his lip hard. What was wrong with him? He thought he did not care, but now, watching his comrades crawling desperately on the ground, he felt a tearing pain inside and clenched his fists tightly.

He had no choice—he could not quit, could not appeal. He had no rights at all.

“Run. Start running!”

“I can’t. If I run, all my effort is wasted!”

“Run, Chen Cao. Run once for others, let go of your so-called pride!”

“No, I can’t, I can’t!”

He roared—Chen Cao let out a furious shout.

The Flame King 15—Full free reading—Chapter Fifteen: Humiliation [Please collect!] Update complete!