Whispers in the Mist
Entering the second month of training, a harsh routine had become the norm at Eternal Flame Academy. However, beneath the surface of rigid discipline, a different poison was beginning to spread. It came not from the barrel of a gun or the orders of a sergeant, but from whispers in the corridors, disdainful glances in the dining hall, and small sabotages that felt like a thousand paper cuts.
A war of attrition had begun, and He Xiang was at the center of it.
The most glaring incident occurred in the first aid classroom. He Xiang arrived in the morning to find the training dummy she was going to use to demonstrate resuscitation had been vandalized. Someone had written a vulgarity in thick black paint across its chest: "Women Belong in the Kitchen, Not on the Battlefield." Beside it, a caricature of a crying woman had been badly drawn.
When the news spread, Hu Yanzhen was the first to arrive, her face red with anger. Without a word, she turned, stepped out, and blew her whistle loudly, ordering all cadets nearby to gather within thirty seconds.
"LOOK AT THIS!" he shouted, pointing at the desecrated doll, his voice echoing throughout the field. "This is the act of a coward! Someone who is more afraid of a female instructor than of enemy bullets! Whoever did this, you are not a soldier. You are trash. If I find out who you are, I swear I will make sure you spend the rest of your time in this academy crawling on broken glass!"
His raw threat made the cadets tremble, but it did not solve the problem. That was when He Xiang stepped forward, carrying a bucket of water and several rags. In front of everyone, without showing any emotion, he began to calmly clean the graffiti. His movements were steady and deliberate. He refused to show any anger or pain. He refused to be a victim. His silent actions spoke louder than Hu Yanzhen's shouts, a cold statement of defiance that made several cadets hang their heads in shame.
Then, Lee Junshan arrived. He said nothing. He simply observed, his analytical eyes noting the type of paint used, the location of the graffiti, and the reactions of the people around him. He took a small notebook from his pocket and made a few notes. He did not see it as a personal insult; she saw it as data, another dot in the hostile pattern she was mapping.
That night, the tension of the day was palpable in their office. He Xiang sat at her desk, massaging her temples with a tired motion. For the first time, her steel mask showed a slight crack.
Hu Yanzhen, unable to bear to see her distressed, set down a cup of steaming hot tea in front of her with a little too much force. "Just tell me who you suspect, Xiang Xiang," she said hoarsely. "I don't care what Junshan says about patience. Some people only understand the language of pain. I'll take care of it."
It was her way of showing concern—direct, physical, and protective.
He Xiang smiled weakly. "And get you expelled from the academy? No, Yanzhen. Thank you. But we have to be smarter than them."
Lee Junshan, who had been studying the map of the guard patrol routes on the blackboard, turned. He walked toward them, taking another cup of tea for himself. "He's right, Yanzhen," he said softly. "But you're also right in your anger." He looked at He Xiang, his eyes softening. "Their weapons are psychological. They want to provoke you, to make you react emotionally, to prove their stereotypes right. Don't give them that ammunition."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "Every day you stand in front of that classroom, every time you clean up their graffiti with your head held high, you win. Your composure is your victory. And know that we have your back. Always."
His intellectual and emotional support was a soothing balm, a far cry from Hu Yanzhen's fiery protection. He Xiang looked at the two of them—his soldier and his strategist, his shield and his sword. His weariness faded slightly, replaced by the warmth of a deep camaraderie.
"Thank you," he whispered. "You two."
A few days later, new orders came down. A full-scale night navigation exercise was to be held in the forested hills surrounding the academy. When Lee Junshan read the order, his brow furrowed.
"This is strange," he said. "This route passes through 'Widow's Ridge,' an area usually avoided for new cadet training because of its steep and unstable terrain."
"Who approved this route?" Hu Yanzhen asked.
"Signed by Colonel Ji Jin himself," Lee Junshan replied, his eyes narrowing. "With the reason of 'testing the cadets' abilities under the most challenging conditions'."
A sense of foreboding began to creep up on them. The division of groups only added to the suspicion. He Xiang was assigned to lead one group consisting mostly of female cadets and a few male cadets who were considered weaker. Their route would take them straight through Widow's Ridge. Meanwhile, Jin Wuyou and Wu Renjie were assigned to another group, under the watchful eye of the conservative Sergeant Ma, on an easier route.
The night of the exercise came with a depressing atmosphere. Thick, wet fog descended from the hills, engulfing the trees and drowning out all sound. Visibility was drastically reduced, and the air was cold to the bone.
At the edge of the forest, the cadets gathered, their breath forming clouds of steam in the cold air. Oil lamps flickered, casting long, eerie shadows.
He Xiang gave his group final instructions. "Stay together. Trust your compasses and maps, but most importantly, trust each other. Communication is key. Don't fall behind."
As he spoke, Hu Yanzhen approached, pretending to inspect the equipment of one of his cadets. "Be careful out there, Xiang Xiang," he whispered, his voice low. "Don't take unnecessary risks."
Lee Junshan also stood nearby, his eyes scanning the dark tree line as if trying to spot any enemies lurking there. He said nothing, but the worry in his eyes was more eloquent than words.
"I'll be fine," He Xiang said, trying to reassure them and himself.
He gave a signal, and his group began to move forward, their figures quickly swallowed by the fog and darkness. Lee Junshan and Hu Yanzhen stood still, watching until they were completely out of sight.
"I don't like this, Junshan," Hu Yanzhen said finally, her voice barely audible. "This fog… it feels like a veil."
Lee Junshan didn't answer. He just continued to stare into the thick fog, where their friend had just disappeared. A cold, ominous feeling gripped him. Tonight, the whispers in the corridor felt like they had followed them into the forest, and they waited in the darkness.
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****to be continued
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