Chapter Thirty-Five: The Pinnacle of the Fundamentals

Chen Cao’s expression remained unchanged, his back straight as ever. “Reporting to the chief, I don’t wish to answer that question, because you, who set the obstacles, understand better than I do why I acted as I did.”

Standing beside Cao Wild Fox, Qiu Yu’s face darkened, his voice stern. “Is that how you speak to your superiors?”

Unmoved, Chen Cao responded in a clear, ringing voice, “I wouldn’t dare. Please forgive my answer, but I believe we all remember how, in the seventy-ninth year of Dacheng, during that counterattack, we lost so much combat power because the enemy mobilized every citizen. How many of our soldiers fell to the hands of children? So if you really want an answer, I have nothing more to explain. My answer is the same as before: 0611 was dispatched for an unconventional mission, so I had to use unconventional means. On the battlefield, there are no rules, no emotions—there is only us and the enemy.”

As his words faded, even Qiu Yu was left speechless. He knew better than anyone what that campaign in the seventy-ninth year had entailed.

Duan Tianya smiled faintly, glancing at Cao Wild Fox and giving a nod.

“An unconventional approach indeed. You may go now. You’ve worked hard these past three months—take a good rest,” Cao Wild Fox waved his hand.

“Yes, Principal!” Chen Cao snapped off a crisp salute, then turned and jogged away.

“Alright, instructors, give me your scores.” Once Chen Cao had left their sight, Cao Wild Fox swept his gaze over the gathered instructors, seeking the opinions of these elite officers of the Republic.

In truth, there was no need for Cao Wild Fox to ask—Chen Cao was trained by their own hands. Did anyone expect them to undermine their own pupil?

So, everyone remained silent.

Cao Wild Fox had anticipated this outcome, but there was no trace of satisfaction on his face. Instead, his expression hardened. “Very well. So, it seems this mission must be entrusted to him?”

Still, no one spoke. The purpose of this kind of training was clear enough.

“Who will tell him?” Cao Wild Fox asked, sweeping his gaze around the group again.

But again, silence. Who would willingly send their own cherished student to die?

“I’ll do it,” Duan Tianya said with a faint smile. “I’ve always played the villain, and besides, I haven’t much time left. He can’t stay on the small battlefield forever; he needs to be tested in the real world.”

Chen Cao walked slowly among the trees. Though the path was blanketed thick with leaves, after a year apart, he still felt a warmth returning. How long had it been since he’d walked back to that little cabin, the place that held so many of his memories?

A brook ran alongside the path, its waters crystal clear. He could just make out a few small fish gliding through the stream, the atmosphere tranquil and serene.

Feeling the stifling heat, Chen Cao suddenly realized how long it had been since he’d bathed. He simply stripped off his clothes, leaving only the military belt with his daggers strapped to his waist. Over the past year, he’d grown used to it—wherever he was, whatever the circumstance, no matter if he carried other weapons or not, those two daggers Duan Tianya had given him were always on him.

With a splash, Chen Cao dove into the stream. The icy water on his skin brought a rush of comfort. The clean air around him filled him with an intense sense of relief, as if every cell in his body had been renewed.

“No, I can’t get too comfortable. Comfort leads to trouble!” With that thought, Chen Cao leapt from the water—only to hear the sound of a blade hacking at trees nearby. He quickly pulled on his clothes, slipping into the tattered camouflage uniform.

The chopping continued, undeterred by his movements, and only grew more forceful.

Chen Cao walked toward the sound, curious to see who was working so hard. At this hour, everyone should be in training. Who could be practicing alone here?

Not far from the brook, deep in the woods, a figure flashed through the trees. In an instant, a dozen meters of bark were lined with thin, narrow cuts. As the figure paused, catching their breath, they spun and slashed another circle, striking the very same spots as before. Though most would not have noticed, Chen Cao’s keen eyes—honed by a year of combat—could see it: each time the blade was drawn back, it landed in exactly the same place, with speed and precision that would earn any martial artist’s respect.

“Impressive swordsmanship!” Chen Cao couldn’t help but call out.

The figure sheathed their blade and turned. Upon seeing Chen Cao, there was no surprise—just a calm greeting. “Chen Cao, you’re back.”

“You… Guo Qianshuang, Instructor Guo!” Chen Cao hadn’t expected to run into Guo Qianshuang here.

“It’s me. It seems your skills have improved. I didn’t notice you until you were ten meters away,” Guo Qianshuang said, tapping her scabbard.

Chen Cao grinned. “I never realized you had such a talent, Instructor Guo. I didn’t expect your specialty to be such powerful swordsmanship!”

Guo Qianshuang raised the broad scabbard, her face serious. “Just because I’m a woman, does that mean I can’t master a technique that requires strength?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Chen Cao tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. Any explanation would only be an excuse. His very thought revealed his disbelief that a woman could wield such a heavy sword.

“Never mind. I don’t have time to argue with you,” Guo Qianshuang said, her brows knitting slightly as she studied him. Then, a faint smile appeared on her striking face.

As that smile dawned, Chen Cao suddenly sensed a chilling murderous intent—a pressure that filled the air. Clearly, he had underestimated this assistant instructor whom he’d once pinned with a joint lock.

Sure enough, as Guo Qianshuang’s sly smile flickered, her hand twitched and the blade flashed free of the scabbard.

“I’ve heard you’ve inherited Instructor Duan’s martial arts. I’d like to see how much of his skill you possess!” With that, the blade slashed through the air toward Chen Cao.

“Damn, really? Women are impossible to predict! If I’d known, I’d never have come over—she doesn’t hesitate at all!” The thought flashed through Chen Cao’s mind as he twisted, twin daggers instantly in hand. Crossing them, he deftly parried Guo Qianshuang’s incoming strike.

But the force of her blow numbed his arms. Her swordsmanship had the might of splitting a mountain. For a woman to wield a blade like this—it was remarkable. Especially a woman as beautiful as she was.

Chen Cao spun his daggers, preparing for another exchange. He had no desire for a protracted fight. Guo Qianshuang’s eyes were sharp, her gaze unwavering, lips rosy and teeth white. According to what Wang Husheng had told him, this was the sign of a maiden—her strength should be inexhaustible at her age.

Indeed, as Chen Cao countered her attacks, Guo Qianshuang pressed on relentlessly, her blade as swift and light as a swallow. Though Chen Cao’s daggers were quick and nimble, she was not outmatched, attacking joint after joint with her full strength.

Chen Cao’s twin daggers formed an impenetrable web, but as Guo Qianshuang’s onslaught continued, he became caught up in the excitement of the duel. When her blade flashed toward him, his arms opened wide like a great roc spreading its wings, leaving a gap in his defenses. Guo Qianshuang saw her chance and shifted her grip, bringing the blade down toward his abdomen.

“Looks like the fish took the bait!” Chen Cao thought with delight. He flicked his daggers, catching Guo Qianshuang’s blade and twisting it aside. In an instant, the tip of his other dagger hovered a centimeter from her throat.

With a clang, Chen Cao continued the motion, sending her sword spinning into the air before it stuck, quivering, in the ground.

“I’ve lost, it seems,” Guo Qianshuang said calmly, her eyes clear, her bearing unshaken by defeat.

“Haha, honestly, Instructor Guo, you’re already outstanding. I took a risk—if I hadn’t blocked your sword, you would’ve cut me clean in two!” Chen Cao laughed, exhilarated by sparring with such a master.

“No, you spotted my weakness, didn’t you?” At the mention of her flaw, a hint of dejection flickered in Guo Qianshuang’s eyes. She muttered, “I’m a woman—I’ll never live up to my family’s honor.”

“You’ve worked so hard already. Besides, the battlefield today isn’t ruled by cold steel anymore,” Chen Cao offered, trying to console her.

Guo Qianshuang lifted her head, her eyes shining. “Funny, that sounds like something an instructor would say to a student.”

“Uh, right, I suppose it does,” Chen Cao admitted, realizing he’d spoken out of turn. When it came to tactical knowledge, Guo Qianshuang, as an assistant instructor, surely knew more than he did. If she still practiced such powerful techniques, she must have her reasons.

For a moment, the two fell silent.

“Chen Cao, do you know what a shock assault is? Simply put, it’s a battlefield charge,” Guo Qianshuang said quietly, walking over to retrieve her sword from the earth.

“Yes, I know. It’s one of the most basic tactics,” Chen Cao answered honestly.

Guo Qianshuang spoke with conviction, “Actually, if you take a basic tactic to its limits, it becomes a unique art. This is what I’ve been studying. Think about it—everyone who graduates from 0611 is expected to become a commander. All those elite individual fighting techniques are just illusions. The battlefield isn’t for a single hero; it’s a collective. When you lead a group assault, when you meet the enemy face-to-face, what do you need? When the enemy charges you, when all weapons and technology lose their edge, what matters most?”

“Hand-to-hand combat. In the end, the sword becomes the most important weapon,” Chen Cao suddenly understood her intent.

Guo Qianshuang let out a self-deprecating laugh. “But I don’t study it as a group tactic—I push it as a solo skill. The prerequisite for breaking through is to meet a standard that will convince the academy board. As you saw, I’ve reached my limit. I’m already twenty-six.”

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