When a person fails, talking about their efforts feels like an excuse. But when they succeed, showcasing those same efforts becomes inspirational.

Under Doctor Lin’s cinematic guidance, the so-called combat footage was essentially edited to feature Lian Sheng as the protagonist, highlighting her composure and wisdom. In moments of fervor, Lian Sheng’s image in their minds was instantly elevated.

With only two days left, time was flexible. Mornings were spent attending lectures on Alliance history. Afternoons were for song selection and inter-platoon points competitions. Tomorrow would be the rehearsal, followed by the evening performance, and then it would all be over.

When Lian Sheng arrived at the assembly area, she was immediately recognized. Former White Team members eagerly rushed toward her.

“Model Soldier Lian, you’re here!”

“Model Soldier Lian, please have a seat!”

“Model Soldier Lian, what song did your platoon choose? Need accompaniment?”

Someone nearby corrected: ”

You

?”

The speaker quickly amended: ”

You

.”

“Why bother Model Soldier Lian with such trivial matters? Make way!” A male student pushed through the crowd, holding out a bottle of water: “Model Soldier Lian, please drink.”

“…” Lian Sheng accepted it and asked, “Having fun?”

The boy replied: “It’s alright?”

Lian Sheng waved her hand: “Disperse.”

The group laughed and jostled each other, turning back with shy waves before scattering.

Cheng Ze chuckled behind her: “Addicted to the acting, are we?”

Lian Sheng turned to see Zhao Zhuoluo and his team. She greeted them: “Yo.”

Cheng Ze asked: “Mind if we sit?”

Lian Sheng gestured: “Sit wherever. No formalities.”

The four of them split into two rows and sat beside her.

This area had two chatterboxes. One was the genuine talker, Fang Jianchen. The other was the passionate commander, Lian Sheng.

Both remained silent, drinking water beside her.

With the lecture yet to begin, the atmosphere grew awkward. Cheng Ze said: “What’s with you two? The air’s too quiet, this isn’t right.”

Lian Sheng said: “Sore throat, don’t want to talk.”

Fang Jianchen lowered his head: “Heartache, don’t want to talk.”

“…” Cheng Ze snapped, “What heartache?! At night when it’s time to sleep, the pain magically disappears and you just howl, saving all your pain for daytime?”

Fang Jianchen leaned toward him: “Do wounds hurt constantly? Seeing her tears my scars open, why can’t it hurt?”

Lian Sheng: “…”

Cheng Ze pushed him back by the chest, and the two began bickering.

Lian Sheng: “…”

Ye Buqing glanced at them, exasperated, then turned to ask: “You don’t seem like a freshman. Did you study this before?”

Lian Sheng nodded. Her experience was extensive, beyond ordinary measure.

As Ye Buqing was about to speak again, a booming voice came from above: “You’re here early!”

They looked up and saluted: “Instructor.”

Instructor Fu nodded and sighed: “What a shame.”

Pulling up his pant legs, he sat beside them: “If you hadn’t acted impulsively back then and waited to assume command later, you wouldn’t have had your points reset.”

Lian Sheng frowned thoughtfully: “Are points that important?”

Instructor Fu paused, looking at the others: “For you all, they should be important, right?”

“We…” Cheng Ze ventured, “aren’t short on points?”

“Oh.” Lian Sheng nodded. “Then I’m not short on points either.”

Instructor Fu: “…”

You’re at zero across the board and you’re not short on points?

“For the talent show and choir, our platoon needs to perform. Winning could earn ten points,” Instructor Fu said. “Can you sing?”

Lian Sheng said: “My throat… won’t allow me… to speak sentences… longer than five words.”

Instructor Fu: “…”

Several boys suddenly appeared, standing opposite them to criticize: “Instructor, really, how could you trouble our Model Soldier Lian with this? Let others decide!”

Instructor Fu stood up, raising a hand as if to strike. The boys covered their heads and scattered laughing, blowing kisses from afar to express their affection.

Instructor Fu sat back down with a snort: “Then what

can

you do?”

Fang Jianchen, legs shaking, clenched his fists and smirked: “Can watch. Can listen. Can eat. Can even stand up!”

Instructor Fu rolled up his sleeves: “That’s my student you’re talking about, watch it.”

Lian Sheng thought and said: “Bugle calls, drumming, warfare.”

Zhao Zhuoluo added: “And acting.”

Lian Sheng: “Oh right. Thanks.”

Instructor Fu exclaimed: “Hey, you can drum?”

Lian Sheng: “Passably.”

Beat the drum to advance, strike the gong to retreat. She had some experience.

Instructor Fu said: “Not bad, adding drumbeats to the music could work. What kind of drums?”

Lian Sheng said: “Gong drums.”

Gong drums hadn’t been used in years. Young people preferred instruments like drum kits. Moreover, due to their construction, producing deep, resonant tones required particular skill and strength.

Gong drums, originally called “majestic gong drums,” could—when played well—create truly awe-inspiring, thunderous momentum.

But currently, they were short on players, and Lian Sheng had muscle strains, so it would mostly be for show.

Thus, Lian Sheng escaped choir duty.

During evening song practice, when Instructor Fu mentioned the choir’s point rewards, the platoon declared:

“We’ll sing our best and win this competition!”

“Yeah—!”

Lian Sheng applauded: “Excellent, excellent.”

Truthfully, even if they sang poorly, this choir competition was practically decided already.

Military students weren’t known for their singing. Without an exceptionally outstanding team, everyone wanted to reasonably salvage Lian Sheng’s zero-point predicament.

Drumming required stamina, and if possible, Lian Sheng didn’t even want to lift her arms now. She mostly sat in the back, drinking water, playing with her optical computer, and listening to them sing.

As for the points exchange matches, with the faction battle over, she had even less interest.

If training made every moment drag, these final days passed in a blur.

Lian Sheng’s platoon, having overexerted their voices during practice, set two records during the actual performance: highest decibel level and most off-key notes.

Lian Sheng listened for a long time without finding a single correct beat.

Screeching, screeching—everyone was giving it their all!

The lieutenant clapped: “Good, everyone’s very spirited.”

They became the only platoon without a ranking.

Instructor Fu, hearing the results, collapsed into his comrade’s arms.

Lian Sheng felt this was all a conspiracy. To keep her at zero, they’d gone to great lengths. How hard they’d worked!

In the end, after evaluations, Lian Sheng became the first zero-point model soldier in history.

The command students apologized to her with utmost sincerity.

The next morning, instructors roused them as usual.

Dressed in civilian clothes, they packed up, returned tents and equipment, ate breakfast, and gathered at the assembly point.

The instructors stood at attention by their platoons, waiting for everyone to arrive.

Instructor Fu said: “Not much to say. You’re the most difficult soldiers I’ve ever trained. Disrespectful, lagging in drills, even scamming your instructor…”

The students laughed. One reported: “Instructor, that was just one person.”

“You’re not much better, gloating and stirring trouble,” Instructor Fu pointed at them. “And the worst singers I’ve ever had.”

They hung their heads.

“But you’re also my proudest students. On the last day, seeing you still joking spiritedly and striving together—that’s what matters.” Instructor Fu saluted them. “We’ve only spent fifteen days together. What I’ve taught you is little. The only thing I can leave you is my blessing. Perhaps we’ll meet again. By then, I hope you’ve become Alliance warriors who can stand on your own. Protecting our homeland together.”

“All personnel—!” Instructor Fu took a deep breath and shouted: “Sixth Company, Third Platoon, dismissed!”

They straightened and saluted crisply: “Thank you, Instructor!”

Instructor Fu nodded and turned to leave.

Lian Sheng called after him: “Instructor Fu, we still don’t know your name.”

Instructor Fu paused, removing his hat to look back: “If we meet again, I’ll tell you. If not, there’s no need to remember my name. You don’t need to remember everyone you’ve met.”

Bathing in the summer breeze, they watched the instructors assemble and depart with their platoon leaders.

Lian Sheng lowered her head, picked up her bag, and prepared to go home.

Aside from those with family picking them up, the school provided buses to transport them. Lian Lie had already instructed her on how to get home, saying she might not have time to fetch her.

Doctor Lin, wearing a waistcoat suit, waited with them for the bus.

Lian Sheng looked up at him: “Can I know your name?”

“Me?” Doctor Lin turned. “Lin Shu.”

“Oh.” Lian Sheng said, “I thought you’d say something like ‘no need to remember a passerby’s name.’ Fits your vibe better.”

Lin Shu: “…”

Zheng Lei said exasperatedly behind them: “He’s our school doctor! Comes every year for exercises!”

Lian Sheng: “…”

Doctor Lin patted her head kindly: “The school has equipment. We can check your brain when we get back.”

When Lian Sheng returned home, Lian Lie was indeed absent. The house was quiet, only the cleaning robot buzzing about.

They had one day to pack. The schedule reminded them to report back to school tomorrow for classes.

Lian Sheng wandered her room, baffled. She had no idea what to bring to this school.

Besides clothes, what did classes require? Being the military department, did they need to bring their own weapons?

Her family’s storage held many model weapons, some bearing her name.

Should she bring them?

Lian Sheng sat on a chair, deciding to subtly ask her new comrades.

Lu Mingyuan stared at his optical computer, deep in thought.

His mother asked: “What’s wrong?”

“Mom.” Lu Mingyuan frowned. “What does it mean when someone asks what you’re bringing to school?”

His mother considered: “If it’s a boy, nothing much—just making conversation. If it’s a girl, then trouble.”

Lu Mingyuan gasped: “Does she…”

“Yes.” His mother said. “She probably sees you as a girlfriend.”

Lu Mingyuan: “…”

But he didn’t want to be Lian Sheng’s girlfriend. Sounded too gay.

Seeing his expression, his mother said: “Then tell her you’re bringing nothing.”

Lu Mingyuan lowered his head and replied: “I’m bringing nothing.”

After a moment, he added: “Money.”

Lian Sheng thought: Perfect.