Just because I wrote "Zhu Xian," the school beauty sent me razor blades.

5:40 a.m.

With a loud bang, Lin Yuan was jolted awake.

Zhou Zixuan was ejected from the upper bunk and fell flat on his face, groaning in pain, "My tailbone!"

Lin Yuan lifted his eyelids and glanced at him: "It's only 5:40, are you coming back to life?"

"Isn't it supposed to be six o'clock?!" Zhou Zixuan jumped up suddenly.

"That's right." Lin Yuan rolled over, "So I've decided to sleep for another fifteen minutes."

Qian Zhuangzhuang, sporting an afro, poked his head out like a dandelion: "Who's demolishing this building?"

Chen Mo had already neatly folded the blankets, and said calmly, "Someone is being overly nervous."

"How can I not be nervous!" Zhou Zixuan scrambled to his feet and frantically rummaged through the wardrobe. "Fifty push-ups! My arms aren't even as stiff as noodles!"

In just a few minutes, a chaotic scene unfolded in the dormitory.

Zhou Zixuan wore his pants backwards and his belt was stuck on his butt, pulling at it as he ran; Qian Zhuangzhuang's hat was askew, like a beret, and he looked like a rolling potato in his camouflage uniform; Chen Mo was dressed neatly, but Zhou Zixuan stepped on his shoelaces, and he almost fell to the ground.

Lin Yuan was the last to get out of bed. He slowly and methodically finished dressing, looked at himself in the mirror, and said, "Handsome. Even camouflage can't hide my good looks."

"Brother Yuan! What time is it and you're still showing off!" Zhou Zixuan had already rushed to the door.

Lin Yuan picked up his water glass, took a sip, and said quietly, "Are you sure you want to go out like this?"

Zhou Zixuan looked down and saw that his pants zipper was undone.

"Aaaaaah!"

Six o'clock, training ground.

The instructor was a burly man with dark skin. He stood in front of the group and swept his eyes across them.

"My surname is Lei, you can call me Instructor Lei." His voice seemed to emanate directly from his chest. "Over the next two weeks, I'll show you what 'rules' really mean."

Standing next to Lin Yuan, Zhou Zixuan muttered softly, "Brother Yuan, he looks like he could kill a bull with one punch..."

"Shh—" Lin Yuan lowered his voice, "If you say another word, he might kill you first."

"Attention, everyone! Stand at attention!"

Thirty people stood up straight, scattered about.

"Stand at attention! Half an hour! Don't move!"

Instructor Lei, hands behind his back, moved slowly through the ranks like a moving black iron tower. His leather boots clicked and clacked on the ground, each step pressing on the fragile nerves of the new recruits.

Head up! Chest out! Stomach in!

Zhou Zixuan tried desperately to grow two centimeters taller, his chin held high as if a rope was tied to the back of his head. But the more he tried to perform, the less his body cooperated—his toes scratched inside his shoes, his shoulders ached, and his back felt like it was crawling with ants.

"Brother Yuan," Zhou Zixuan forced a breath through his teeth, "are you shaking?"

Lin Yuan stared straight ahead, his gaze as resolute as a party applicant: "I won't tremble."

"Aren't your legs sore?"

"Not sour."

"you……"

"If you speak again," Lin Yuan's lips barely moved, "I'll report you to the instructor, saying he looks like the Bull Demon King."

"Twenty-five minutes left." Instructor Lei glanced at his watch. "Anyone who moves again will have five minutes added."

After standing for less than ten minutes, Qian Zhuangzhuang's forehead was covered in sweat, and he looked like a wilted sunflower with only its stalk sticking to the ground.

Chen Mo remained silent, his expression as calm as still water.

Lin Yuan was relatively steady, his mental fortitude honed from two lifetimes, but his body lacked training; his knees ached and his back felt damp.

He subtly shifted his weight between his feet, the movement so small it was invisible to the naked eye—his "micro-manipulation leg-switching technique," invented in his previous life, was hailed by his roommate as a "miracle of human biomechanics."

The one who had the hardest time was Zhou Zixuan, who was naturally restless and found standing for half an hour more agonizing than giving up his phone.

His face contorted in pain, and he whispered in a barely audible voice, "Brother Yuan, my nose is itchy, a mosquito has landed..."

"Bear with it."

"It's biting me! Right on the tip of my nose—"

"Say one more word and we'll carry you to the cafeteria on a stretcher."

Zhou Zixuan immediately fell silent, but couldn't help pouting to swat away the mosquitoes, her movements subtle, thinking she had done it perfectly.

"Fifth row, third one!" A muffled thunderclap struck.

Zhou Zixuan shuddered, his face turning deathly pale. Thirty pairs of eyes swept over him, most of them filled with schadenfreude.

Instructor Lei, hands behind his back, looked down at him and asked, "What are you doing moving around while standing at attention?"

"Reporting...reporting to the instructor," Zhou Zixuan's voice trembled as he forced a defense, "there was a mosquito on my nose...I was afraid of catching a disease...so I tried to use my breath to biologically repel it..."

A "pfft" sound came from the queue as someone burst out laughing.

Instructor Lei, expressionless, asked, "Biological expulsion?"

"yes……"

"You're good at making excuses for yourself."

"Thank you for the compliment, instructor!"

"But excuses won't work here." Instructor Lei pointed to the track. "Run two laps around the track, then return to your unit."

"Huh? Now?"

"Now, immediately, right away."

Zhou Zixuan walked towards the track with a bitter face.

When Zhou Zixuan returned to the team, his legs were rented and his face was steamed.

"Reporting, Instructor... I've finished running..."

Instructor Lei, expressionless, said, "Form ranks. Fifteen minutes to go."

Qian Zhuangzhuang has evolved from a "withered sunflower" to a "dried potato," staring blankly at the treetops and muttering to himself.

Lin Yuan glanced at him: "Zhuangzhuang, what are you doing, arguing with a tree?"

Chen Mo stood motionless, like a statue.

Lin Yuan silently gave a thumbs up: Mo-ge's composure is such that it's a pity he's not on the Victoria's Secret runway.

Finally, Instructor Lei glanced at his watch: "Time's up."

Thirty people relaxed collectively, their bones crackling like popcorn.

"Rest for ten minutes, don't go too far."

Zhou Zixuan collapsed to the ground with a "thud," his posture resembling a salted fish washed ashore by the waves: "My leg... is no longer mine."

Lin Yuan took out his water bottle, unscrewed it, and slowly took a sip: "It's only the first day. Just play the zombie naturally."

"You stood there for thirty minutes! How come you didn't collapse?"

"That's called a director's basic professionalism. Even if the actors have twenty takes, you remain steadfast and unwavering."

"...You call that standing? You call that cultivating immortality!"

Qian Zhuangzhuang leaned closer, looking very serious: "Don't think about food. The more you think about it, the hungrier you'll get, and your brain will think you're actually eating—then you'll realize you've been tricked, and you'll be even hungrier."

"Zhuangzhuang, can't you speak like a normal person?"

Zhou Zixuan curled up on the ground, clutching his head and wailing, "Let me regress into a single-celled organism! I don't want to walk upright anymore!"

Lin Yuan patted him on the shoulder: "Look on the bright side, every bit of hardship you endure now is nourishment for your future acting skills. When you play an underground party member being tortured, won't that give you a better feel for the role?"

"...Thank you, but I don't want to play an underground party member; I want to play a domineering CEO."

Even a domineering CEO needs to stand—in the elevator, in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, in front of the female lead—saying, "Woman, you've successfully caught my attention"—which one doesn't need core strength?

Zhou Zixuan was stunned for three seconds, and then he actually thought it made sense.

Ten minutes later, the military posture was restarted, followed by marching, running, and so on. By the end of the morning, Zhou Zixuan's screams had deteriorated from "horrific" to "very faint," and finally to complete silence—his voice was hoarse from screaming.

At 11:30, the instructor shouted, "Dismissed!"

Zhou Zixuan sprinted towards the cafeteria like a 100-meter dash: "I'm going to eat five bowls! I'll eat the cafeteria out of business!"

"Can you run?"

Hunger gives me strength!

The cafeteria was packed with people. Zhou Zixuan filled a plate with braised pork, sweet and sour pork ribs, and fried chicken legs, piling it up like a small mountain.

"Can you finish it?" Lin Yuan raised an eyebrow.

"Finishing the meal is a form of compensation for the morning's military training. Every bite of meat is a silent protest against Instructor Lei."

"Then, if you can't run in the afternoon, you'll have to do extra training?"

"...Please shut up."

Qian Zhuangzhuang sat down, closed his eyes, took a bite of rice, and let out a blissful sigh: "Delicious... At this moment, Instructor Lei, military posture, and marching all cease to exist."

Chen Mo put down his chopsticks: "Physical training this afternoon. Crawling, frog jumps, pull-ups."

Zhou Zixuan's words froze: "...Brother Mo, can you please stop talking?"

"State the facts."

Lin Yuan smiled and said, "Eat quickly, you'll have the energy to be tortured."

Under the blazing afternoon sun, Instructor Lei performed a series of exercises—frog jumps, push-ups, and crawling. Zhou Zixuan completely lost his ability to speak, only able to gasp for breath.

Qian Zhuangzhuang did push-ups, his arms shaking like a sieve: "One...two...two five...two five..."

"Are you serious about this 2.5?"

"I... am in a transition..."

Chen Mo recited the thirty words in one breath without changing his expression, just like a textbook example.

"Brother Mo, you've been secretly practicing, haven't you?"

"I practiced it in high school."

"...No wonder you have a girlfriend."

"It has nothing to do with my girlfriend."

"No, it's related," Zhou Zixuan said weakly, "Disciplined people are charming, and charming people deserve love... But I only deserve push-ups."

Lin Yuan laughed out loud: "With this kind of logic, it's a shame he's not writing academic papers."

Drill training at 3 PM, military boxing at 4 PM. After countless glances at my watch and moments of absentmindedness—

Training is over!

Instructor Lei glanced at the time: "Assemble at 7 PM. For every second late, 50 push-ups. Dismissed!"

Zhou Zixuan lay down on the playground, limbs outstretched, gazing up at the sky: "It's over... I'm still alive..."

Qian Zhuangzhuang limped towards the dormitory: "Dinner... what are we having...?"

"You're still thinking about eating?"

"The body can collapse, but the stomach cannot be empty."

Lin Yuan stretched his stiff shoulders; the setting sun cast a long shadow over him.

"Let's go," he nudged Zhou Zixuan, "If you lie there any longer, it'll turn into a drill field. Be on time for 7 PM."

Zhou Zixuan forced out a response from his throat, which roughly translates to:

"...Okay, Mom."