Legend of the Female General – CH 042

Chapter 42. The Weakest in the Army.

“I cannot draw this bow.”

The surrounding recruits stared at He Yan in stunned silence. Drillmaster Liang also looked up in disbelief, nearly doubting his own ears.

What did he mean by “I cannot draw this bow”? And how could he say it so matter-of-factly, as if it were perfectly reasonable? Among all the soldiers he had trained, this was by far the worst!

This was infuriating!

“What nonsense are you spouting?” Wang Ba had not expected He Yan to be so blunt either. He had assumed that since He Yan had acted so arrogantly that day, he must have some hidden skills. This outcome was simply unacceptable.

“My arm strength is not enough right now to draw this bow. Why waste time? It is better to let the brothers who need practice use the crossbow. In a few days, when my grip is stronger, I will be able to draw it.”

“He Yan, the military camp is not a place for you to fool around,” Drillmaster Liang said with a dark expression. He had thought this young man was hardworking, determined, and would surely achieve great things. Yet here he was, admitting his incompetence so shamelessly.

“I am not treating it as a playground.” The boy’s gaze was clear. After a moment’s thought, he compromised, “Then how about this—give me one more day. Tomorrow, I will be able to draw this bow. How’s that?”

Drillmaster Liang was so angry his nose nearly twisted. “He Yan!”

Was he actually bargaining with him? Treating the military camp like a marketplace? During the weighted runs, He Yan had shown steady improvement day by day, which had pleased him greatly. But archery was not something simple—arm strength could not be built overnight. Where did he get the confidence that he could draw the bow tomorrow?

At this point, Drillmaster Liang began to regret not listening to Du Mao earlier. He should not have invested so much attention in He Yan. He should have just sent him off to be a cook long ago, sparing himself this frustration. At his age, what if he ended up with a stroke from sheer anger?

Unable to bear the sight of He Yan’s innocent face any longer, Drillmaster Liang waved him off. “Stop trying. Go over there and run with the sandbags. Five laps!”

He Yan slowly replied with an “Oh,” obediently walking to the side, hoisting a sandbag onto her shoulders, and setting off down the track.

He was compliant, but this feeling of punching cotton only made Drillmaster Liang even more frustrated. He turned away, determined not to look at the infuriating boy anymore.

As He Yan jogged along, someone unexpectedly fell into step beside him—Wang Ba.

“Kid, you are this weak, and you still dare to join the army?” Wang Ba laughed mockingly. “You cannot even draw a bow, yet you have the nerve to boast?”

“Brother,” He Yan said while running, “you are always watching me. Are you really that afraid of me?”

“Afraid of you?” Wang Ba was taken aback.

“If you were not afraid, you would not follow me around all day, worried I might steal your spotlight.”

“Who’s afraid of you?” Wang Ba nearly cursed out loud. What kind of person was this? Unfazed and stubborn, with his own twisted logic.

“You should know, private fights are forbidden in the army.” He Yan made a “shh” gesture. “Getting caught means a military beating. There are overseers everywhere in the mountains. Even if you want to cause trouble for me, now is not the right time.”

That much was true.

Wang Ba glared at him, forcing a smirk. “If I wanted to deal with you, I would not need to do it privately. You cannot even draw a bow… On the martial arts field, I could make you kneel and beg for mercy.”

“Alright then, we will meet at the martial arts field. No backing out.” With that, she quickened her pace as if in a hurry, the sandbag on her back bouncing as she swiftly left Wang Ba far behind, running ahead.

Watching her light-footed retreating figure, Wang Ba found it unbearably irritating. He cursed under his breath before turning away.

…

The day’s crossbow training finally concluded as the sun dipped below the western hills.

The recruits rushed off to find food, eager to fill their stomachs, while the instructors gathered together. They ate specially prepared dinners while discussing the day’s events within their respective squads. If any promising recruits stood out, they would boast about them proudly.

Liang Ping had initially wanted to praise Wang Ba and Shitou, but the thought of He Yan made his heart sink. Afraid someone might bring him up, he kept his head down and ate in silence. Yet the more he feared something, the more it happened. Du Mao asked with concern, “Old Liang, how did that He Yan from your squad do today?”

Liang Ping had nothing to say.

An instructor beside him laughed, “Him? Hah! Today he gave up before even drawing the bow, saying, ‘This bow—I cannot draw it.'” He mimicked He Yan’s calm tone, though his expression made it sound mocking. “Old Liang was so furious his face turned green!”

“Did not even draw the bow?” Du Mao was equally astonished. “That’s just absurd.”

“That kid never looked like someone who could last in the military camp. You know what? He even said that if given a day, he’d be able to draw it tomorrow. I really wonder where Old Liang picked up such a treasure. I suspect,” the instructor tapped his temple, “there’s something wrong up here.”

Just as they were talking, someone entered. The instructors turned to see Xiao Jue and Cheng Lisu walking in. Immediately, they set down their bowls and chopsticks, standing to salute. “Commander, Young Master Cheng.”

“We could hear you laughing all the way from outside. What’s so amusing?” Cheng Lisu asked cheerfully.

The young man always wore a happy expression, and these past few days in Liangzhou’s garrison, he had been eating, drinking, and amusing himself. Though no one understood why a pampered young master from the capital would leave his comfortable life to come to Liangzhou, since he was brought by Xiao Jue, they had to show him some respect and not slight him.

The same instructor who had teased Liang Ping earlier spoke up first. “We were just discussing today’s training. Old Liang has a recruit who could not even draw the bow, yet claims he will manage it tomorrow. Young Master Cheng, do you not think that’s hilarious?”

“Eh? Cannot even draw a bow? That’s worse than me!” Cheng Lisu exclaimed in shock. He was already the weakest in both martial and literary arts among noble young masters, but he could still manage a crossbow. Never had he expected to find someone even more inept here, and his interest was instantly piqued. He turned to Xiao Jue. “Uncle, did you hear that? At least in Liangzhou’s garrison, I am not the worst.”

Xiao Jue glanced at him, seemingly unwilling to engage. Cheng Lisu was not bothered by the cold shoulder and instead turned eagerly to the instructors. “What’s this brave soul’s name? Someone so in tune with my interests—I must meet him and swear brotherhood with him!”

Liang Ping: “…”

“Ah, Old Liang, what was that recruit’s name again?” The talkative instructor struggled to recall. “He… He something?”

What had he done wrong for fate to treat him this way? The embarrassment had reached the governor himself. Liang Ping felt like crying, but under the scrutiny of the crowd, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and respond, “He Yan.”

The young man, who had been expressionless all along, suddenly raised his eyes at those words.

He Yan?