Chapter Fourteen: Still the Same Second-Generation Heir [Please Add to Favorites]

On the field, beneath the morning sun, the flag of the Grand Chen Republic fluttered in the air. The scent of fresh grass drifting from all sides left everyone feeling invigorated and clear-minded.

With Zhou Hongye’s support, Chen Cao stood at the very edge of the grounds. After three days of recuperation, his leg seemed to have improved considerably, but he still feigned a limp. During these days, that devilish instructor, Guo Qianshuang, had not appeared again.

Though the entire school had been mobilized, at a glance, there were only a few hundred people—at most, the equivalent of a single battalion.

“These must all be the elite,” Zhou Hongye remarked with a sigh, standing to the side.

“Tsk, proves I was right all along. No one really wants to come here. Look at the other academies of Grand Chen—don’t they each have ten thousand students? This place is clearly unfit for people,” Chen Cao muttered, earning another eye roll from Zhou Hongye.

“Attention! Salute!” With a thunderous command, all the cadets straightened their chests.

A hush fell over the grounds. Especially among the freshmen, a peculiar light flickered in their eyes.

They understood perfectly well: after this opening ceremony, they would officially belong to Unit 0611. After two years of training, they would earn the insignia of a major. With military training behind them, they would become the most elite commanders, their futures all but assured.

Amidst the solemn atmosphere, the instructors on the dais all raised their hands toward the entrance.

Dressed in full military regalia, Cao Wild Fox, a gleaming general’s star on his shoulder, slowly ascended the podium.

Qiu Yu ran to face him, saluted crisply, and announced, “Comrade Principal, Unit 0611 is fully assembled! 326 should be present, 306 are here, 20 are out on field assignments. Reporting complete!”

“At ease!” Cao Wild Fox’s voice was deep and dignified.

“Yes, at ease!” Qiu Yu turned to the cadets and relayed the order. Instantly, a unified rustle swept through the crowd as they shifted into the at-ease stance.

Cao Wild Fox stepped to the front of the dais, neither sitting nor betraying any emotion. He addressed the microphone and began the opening ceremony without preamble.

“I dislike empty rituals and wasting time. From today onward, your lives and time belong to the nation. For some, you may spend only three to five brief years in this academy. For others, it may be a lifetime. But no matter where you go, this will be a memory to last your whole lives!”

As Cao Wild Fox paused, the crowd began to applaud.

Chen Cao clapped along, muttering to himself, “What nonsense.”

Cao Wild Fox raised a hand, and silence returned.

“As for the history of 0611, I doubt any of you truly understand its depth. If I were to recite it, I could talk for a lifetime and never finish. In the course of your studies, you will come to realize that 0611 is far more than a book or a name. Time is precious—cherish every minute you spend in this academy. That is all.”

Another wave of applause swept through the assembly, marking the end of a brief few minutes that constituted the entire opening ceremony.

Immediately, the upperclassmen began to quietly divide themselves into squads and moved off in various directions, each seemingly knowing exactly what to do.

Only the new cadets remained, standing awkwardly together, looking at one another, unsure of their next step.

“Well now, my dear students, I’m not here to spoon-feed you. With the ceremony over, let me welcome you to the academy. Next, you will undergo three months of basic training. Are you ready?”

Her voice was as crisp as an oriole at dawn—it was none other than Guo Qianshuang, the instructor who had been absent for several days. Smiling faintly, she approached the cluster of greenhorns, a green folder in hand.

As she came closer, her shadow loomed over the half-grown youths, and a flash of fangs appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Though they had been told to expect seven days of survival training, it had ended after only two. For Chen Cao and the others, that day and night had been a nightmare. It was easy to imagine that the days to come would be no easier.

Next came the class assignments.

The male cadets were grouped into one class, the females into another.

Basic training encompassed many tasks: beyond hand-to-hand combat and firearms, there was endless physical conditioning, basic command studies, battlefield applications, and various forms of academic knowledge—all considered of utmost importance.

Yet for Chen Cao, the physical training seemed to have little impact. Lame as he pretended to be, he could still lounge in the shade with a book he hadn’t read a page of, watching his classmates crawl and roll in the sand, daydreaming through lessons.

Life here was more leisurely than raising pigs. Strangely, not a single instructor said a word about him. Whenever Guo Qianshuang saw Chen Cao, she would only say, “Study hard,” before leading the others off to train.

Two months passed in this fashion. As Chen Cao grew more pleased with himself, Zhou Hongye and the others drifted farther away from him, no longer as close as before. Without sharing in the hardships, a sense of estrangement grew. Instead, they gravitated toward Chen Diwen, who had become a squad leader and was now more mature and astute.

“Hey, little fox, pour me a glass of water!” In the dormitory, Chen Cao lounged on his bunk with his “injured” leg, calling out with a cheeky grin to Zhou Hongye, who had just finished hand-to-hand combat training and was drenched in sweat.

“Get it yourself!” Zhou Hongye, wearing a camo tank top, replied coldly. After two months of intensive training, the muscles beneath his vest were sharply defined, and his gaze had become keen and fierce—a testament to how much he had gained under the instructors of 0611.

“What’s with all the yelling?” Chen Cao didn’t care. He’d never intended to stay long, nor to cultivate relationships like Zhou Hongye, so he wasn’t bothered by Zhou’s growing coldness. He continued reading—a copy of the world’s most renowned classic, “Silver Screen Plum,” borrowed from the library, which he considered a legitimate study of classical literature.

Zhou Hongye grunted, grabbed his toiletry bag, and went off to shower. Just then, a rattling sounded at the window.

“Chen Cao! Chen Cao!” A head appeared outside the fifth-floor window, with sharp, rugged features—a middle-aged man.

Clearly, the man’s climbing skills were extraordinary.

“Haha, Old Zhou, what brings you here?” Chen Cao greeted him without reserve, for this was Zhou Anshi, the free-fighting instructor, who had always shown special warmth toward Chen Cao. Not only did he give Chen Cao extra lessons, he’d often taken him to eat well near the academy. The other instructors seemed to share this inexplicable fondness, never complaining about his lack of training and even excusing him from chores.

“I brought you something tasty. Your leg isn’t healed yet, right?” Zhou Anshi handed over a roast chicken, tossing it inside.

“Of course it’s not! Still hurts!” Chen Cao rolled his eyes and stretched his leg for effect.

Sometimes, Chen Cao reflected that, though all his classmates came from military families, nothing beat having support in high places. His uncle was a corps commander, after all—perhaps he should thank him properly one day.

“Take care and rest up. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to a nearby spot for some local snacks. I’ve even got some Maotai stashed away. I’ll invite Old Li and Old Shang—we’ll have a proper drink.” Zhou Anshi smiled and disappeared from the window.

“Not bad at all,” Chen Cao murmured, returning to his book. Soon, he closed his eyes, draping the book over his face. It seemed clear to him that they treated him so well for fear that a privileged second-generation like himself would tarnish the reputation of this elite unit. What a comfortable life.

***

Knock, knock, knock!

“Come in!”

When Zhou Anshi entered the principal’s office, the academy’s most senior instructors all sat straight-backed in their chairs, awaiting Cao Wild Fox’s instructions.

Zhou Anshi no longer wore the playful grin he’d shown Chen Cao, but approached Cao Wild Fox at the desk with a solemn air and executed a textbook salute. “Principal!”

Cao Wild Fox waved his hand. “No need for formalities. You just went to see that boy, didn’t you?”

“I did. Same as ever,” Zhou Anshi replied, enunciating each word.

“Good. Now, let’s discuss the upcoming field assignments for the fifth-year cadets.” Cao Wild Fox opened a folder.

“Principal, I have something to say.” Zhou Anshi did not sit, his brow furrowed as he addressed Cao Wild Fox.

“Go ahead,” said Cao Wild Fox, raising his head from the folder to look at his capable subordinate.

Having received permission, Zhou Anshi spoke plainly: “Principal, I don’t understand your approach with Chen Cao. I’ve read Assistant Instructor Guo’s report. I have no doubt about his ability to take down a leopard bare-handed, and I admit he’s a fine piece of steel. I also know his leg injury only needs a few days’ rest. But to let him do nothing for two whole months—why? If this continues much longer, he’ll be ruined!”

“Sit down,” Cao Wild Fox gestured, his tone gentle, a faint smile on his lips. “I know what you’re thinking.” He glanced at the three other instructors seated below. “Li Jiali, Shang Liming, I imagine you feel the same?”

The two lieutenant colonels, Li Jiali and Shang Liming, nodded in unison, then looked toward Qiu Yu, who stood behind Cao Wild Fox. Qiu Yu merely twitched the scar on his face and said nothing.

Cao Wild Fox smiled, opening the folder and laying it on the desk. “Everything is explained here. After what’s coming, he will grow.”

Zhou Anshi and the others leaned in to peer at the documents within.

***

The fourteenth chapter of "Flame King" is now complete!