Volume One: Beneath Mount Zhongnan Chapter Nineteen: Training Soldiers Demands Simplicity and Force

Little Black had grown up in the village since he was young. The children all knew he wouldn’t harm anyone, and every day he followed behind Li Mingyu like a gentle housecat. They were never afraid of him before, but today, seeing Little Black—now as big as a calf—carrying a wild boar in his mouth, his yellow-green eyes shining with a chilling light and blood dripping steadily from his jaws, the feeling was entirely different. Several timid children were so frightened they fell flat on their backsides, their faces as pale as paper.

Pointing at Little Black, Li Mingyu said to the children, “This is my brother, Little Black. From now on, call him Lord Black!”

Zhao Erhu and the others timidly called out, “Lord Black.”

Hearing their weak voices, Mingyu widened his eyes and barked, “Haven’t you eaten? Louder!”

“Greetings, Lord Black!” the children shouted in unison.

Hearing their spirited greeting, Little Black was delighted, circling the children several times, nudging one with his nose, bumping another. At first, the children were still fearful, but children are quick to let go—soon, seeing Little Black behaving just like the gentle cat they remembered, some of the braver ones reached out to pet him. Little Black took it all in stride, even sticking out his rough, broad tongue to lick one child's hand—leaving him giggling from the ticklish sting.

“Good. Now, everyone train hard later. Tonight, I’ll have Aunt Zhou make wild boar stew for you all. If you train well, you’ll eat your fill of meat every day! But if anyone slacks off, I’ll have Little Black ‘take care’ of them!” Mingyu, satisfied with the children’s performance, nodded as he spoke.

The promise of meat filled the children with delight. While their families hunted for a living and farmed in their spare time, adults usually only caught a single animal every ten days or so, and meat was a rare treat. Now, hearing they could have meat every day if they trained well, their eyes shone with excitement—even the threat of Little Black’s ‘attention’ for laziness seemed less frightening.

With the children’s spirits roused, Mingyu decided to strike while the iron was hot and began their training. He harbored an idea: if he used the methods for training special forces from his previous life to train ancient soldiers, what kind of results would he see?

Of course, some modern drills for firearms would need to be replaced with ancient weapon training, but with the more scientific and systematic physical training from the modern era, combined with the tactics of special operations—small elite units for raids behind enemy lines, assassinating key targets, spreading rumors to sow chaos, sabotaging granaries or supply lines, or laying ambushes—surely it would work. Whether the results would be as he hoped could only be seen in the future. For now, these children would be his test subjects.

But progress came one step at a time. These children didn’t even have the most basic military knowledge from the modern era. Many couldn’t tell left from right. With no other choice, Mingyu began with the fundamentals, starting with military posture.

The military stance is the foundation of all military movements. It trains strength and poise, and cultivates willpower, discipline, and obedience. Master it, and a person’s whole spirit and energy changes—even their walk becomes powerful and imposing.

“The basics of military stance are three straights, three levels, three lifts, two flats, two tucks, and one push! Like this!” As he spoke, Mingyu demonstrated: feet slightly apart, chest out, head up, eyes forward, shoulders back—a textbook example.

“Li Big-Eyes, is that how you stand at attention? You’re supposed to be a steadfast pine, not a crooked sapling!”

“Fatty Wang, suck in your stomach! You look like a pregnant woman—pull it in, that’s it.”

After half an hour of one-on-one corrections, Mingyu looked at the row of children standing straight and tall. He felt as if he had returned to his army days, cursing and kicking at the slightest misstep, his military temper on full display.

Once they finished practicing their stance, they moved on to drills: attention, at ease, counting off—by the end of the afternoon, some progress was visible.

Still, Mingyu was troubled. Though he’d read some books and knew enough to handle the basic drills, as soon as it came to marching in formation, chaos ensued. They couldn’t tell left from right, some even marched in time with the wrong foot, and others couldn’t walk a straight line no matter what.

Faced with this, Mingyu had no clever solution. He’d been a drill instructor in his past life, not an expert in training recruits—his methods were simple and direct: punishment. Nothing teaches faster than pain.

“Damn it, Zhao Erhu, how many times have I told you? Which hand do you use to write? Which hand do you eat with?” Mingyu barked, chewing a blade of grass, arms crossed, as Zhao Erhu once again got his feet mixed up—who knows how many times that day. Mingyu’s temper flared.

Zhao Erhu, thoroughly cowed after an afternoon of Mingyu’s inventive kicks—sweeps, chops, roundhouses, never the same twice—now realized the gap between himself and Mingyu. Seeing Mingyu approach, he trembled and stammered, “Left—no, right hand!”

“Useless! No memory at all!” Mingyu strode up and said, “Hold out your right hand!”

Zhao Erhu did so, and Mingyu gave his palm a sharp slap.

“Does it hurt?” Mingyu asked.

“It hurts!” Zhao Erhu’s eyes brimmed with tears.

“Then remember this: it’s your right hand that hurts! Next time you mix it up, I’ll make it hurt even more!” Mingyu gave a cold grin, white teeth flashing, as if eager for Zhao Erhu to forget again so he’d have an excuse.

Zhao Erhu shivered, and sure enough, after a few more such ‘reminders’ for the forgetful, everyone could finally tell left from right.

After another hour of practice, Mingyu judged it enough for the day. He called out, “That’s it for today.” Then, loudly, “Everyone, attention!”

The children, now well-drilled by Mingyu’s discipline, snapped to attention instantly.

“Form up and run—destination, the hot springs!” Mingyu led the way at a jog, with Little Black dragging the wild boar and bringing up the rear.

There were several natural hot springs in the valley, the largest spanning three or four acres—not too hot, not too cold—where villagers bathed and washed their clothes.

Seeing the children sweat-soaked and caked in grime after a day’s training, Mingyu, who couldn’t abide the sight, led them all for a bath.

Children love to play in water by nature. Usually, they’d sneak off to splash around whenever they had a chance. After today’s exhausting training, they were desperate to cool off. Once at the water, Mingyu didn’t forbid them, so with delighted shouts, they stripped in an instant and plunged in.

Mingyu, having spent the afternoon shouting, demonstrating, and disciplining, was drenched in sweat himself. He stripped down and called Little Black over, then leapt into the water.

Little Black loved water too. Dropping the wild boar, he let out a joyful howl and cannonballed in, sending up a great splash that set the children bobbing in every direction. They found it hilarious and soon competed to see who could make the biggest wave.

Mingyu wanted to bond with the children—not just intimidate them. Years of leading soldiers had taught him the importance of camaraderie; even modern officers regularly talked with their men, understanding their thoughts and building unity. Soldiers knowing their commander, and the commander knowing his men, was essential.

Of course, Mingyu had only ever been a drill instructor, not a counselor. Talking about feelings wasn’t his style, nor did he think little kids had much to share.

He had his own way. In his previous life, he often drank and joked with his men, swapping stories to strengthen their bond. He was easygoing, loyal to a fault, always ready to help in a pinch, and the first to charge in any brawl between companies. With his strength, he always came out on top.

Strong men have always been revered in the army, so his soldiers held him in high esteem and always thought of him first in times of trouble. Such qualities made him a fine officer for the rank and file, though perhaps not enough for higher command.

Mingyu also knew that constant pressure was not the right way. Too much tension would only wear the children down; balance was what mattered most.

Laughing heartily, Mingyu splashed water at the children nearby. At first, they didn’t dare retaliate, but seeing his genuine mirth, they soon joined in, shouting and splashing him back. The others joined, too, shrieking with laughter as they played.

After a while, hunger set in. As they got ready to dress and head for dinner, Mingyu noticed some children hadn’t washed properly—still streaked with mud, lice crawling in their hair. He shuddered.

“Damn it, bathing and not washing your hair? Get back in and scrub yourselves clean!” he shouted.

Zhou Jian’s son, Da Niu, had grown up with Mingyu and protested, “Wash my hair? My mother washed it ten days ago—no need to bother again.”

Mingyu glared at him. “Ten days ago? If you ate yesterday, why do you eat again today? Pair up and scrub each other clean! If I find anyone with dirt or lice, you’ll watch us eat meat and won’t get even a drop of soup!”

Fearing for their stomachs and Mingyu’s wrath, the children took their cleaning seriously. Soon, all met the standard, though their skin was rubbed red and purple in patches. Dressed, they lined up to wait for their meal.

Mingyu had already sent a child to fetch Aunt Zhou to butcher the wild boar. He set aside half for the adults, leaving two hind legs for the children, which was more than enough, and the rest for Little Black.

Aunt Zhou set up a big pot, seasoned the meat, and soon, the stew was bubbling. The rich aroma filled the air, and the children, famished, could only swallow their drool. But after a day under Mingyu’s strict command, none dared move until he gave the word.

Once each had a large bowl, Mingyu waved his hand. “Eat up! There’s plenty of meat!” At his signal, everyone tore into the food, hissing and laughing as the hot meat burned their tongues.

They ate until their bellies were round, burping with satisfaction before they finally put down their bowls.

Seeing the children sated, Mingyu leapt onto a big rock, looking down over them. “Now that you’re all full, time to go home. Tomorrow morning, after lessons, assemble outside the village. Anyone late or missing—watch out, or your behinds will suffer!”