PCJ – Chapter 502 The Six-Word Mantra

This time, the troops responsible for the military training at the Fourth High School encountered a minor issue. The originally assigned unit from the stationed Beijing troops was temporarily replaced with another unit. The new team had a very mysterious background and was far less polite during their handover compared to the previous unit, which left the school leadership quite displeased.

The teachers and students at the Fourth High School naturally knew little about these issues. Wei Yunlong only heard Principal Li Kunda briefly mention it during a meeting: “This year’s instructors are less approachable. Class advisors should be mentally prepared, communicate more with the students, and try to manage the situation. Since the training is about to start, there’s no time to change instructors now.”

In truth, Li Kunda didn’t disclose the full story. It wasn’t that the instructors couldn’t be replaced—it was that replacing them wasn’t allowed. The Education Bureau had issued strict orders: the instructors could not be changed, and this year’s military training must be carried out according to their requirements. If Li Kunda refused, he’d have to step aside.

Li Kunda, not wanting to lose his position for the time being, had no choice but to accept the situation. The students at the Fourth High School were mostly academic prodigies but physically subpar, with many being borderline inept in athletic terms. To avoid accidents, past military training sessions were often perfunctory. For such a school, every student carried their family’s hopes. Any incident could lead to a massive headache for the school. This year, the incoming freshman class exceeded a thousand students, most of whom would undoubtedly attend prestigious universities in three years, with some going on to world-class institutions. Calling them “future pillars of society” was no exaggeration.

“Given the circumstances, let’s just hope these academic elites can fend for themselves,” Wei Yunlong thought, looking at the eager, curious eyes of the students.

When Zhang Jiaohua first saw the new instructors, he immediately sensed something unusual. These instructors were all highly skilled, with expertise on par with legendary martial artists. The leader, in particular, exuded the aura of a master. Martial arts and Taoist cultivation might be different paths, but they ultimately lead to the same destination. At their peak, martial arts achieve enlightenment through physical discipline, while Taoist practice achieves unity with the Tao.

If Zhang Jiaohua hadn’t comprehended the Path of Cultivation, he might have been on par with this instructor. However, as a practitioner of Meishan Taoist techniques, which emphasized both spiritual and physical training, his strength far exceeded that of ordinary martial artists.

The leader of the instructors was named Chen Hongyi. In Zhang Jiaohua’s class, there were two instructors: Lu Cunyang and Li Chuyi, responsible for the boys and girls respectively.

When Chen Hongyi first entered Zhang Jiaohua’s class, his gaze immediately locked onto Zhang Jiaohua.

“What’s your name?” Chen Hongyi asked, staring intently as if trying to see through him.

“My name is Zhang Jiaohua,” he replied.

“Zhang Jiaohua, not bad,” Chen Hongyi nodded.

“Not bad, my foot,” Zhang Jiaohua grumbled internally.

After leaving the classroom, Chen Hongyi told Lu Cunyang and Li Chuyi, “Pay close attention to that Zhang Jiaohua.”

Puzzled, Lu Cunyang asked, “Captain, he seems pretty ordinary to me—a typical bookworm. Does he have some special abilities?”

“Just do as I say. Are you new here? Don’t you know the rules?” Chen Hongyi barked, startling Lu Cunyang into silence.

After Chen Hongyi left, Lu Cunyang muttered, “Why does the captain always make a big deal out of nothing? I still don’t get why we’re assigned as instructors here—it’s like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut.”

Li Chuyi smiled, “If we were sent here, there must be a reason. Just follow orders. Besides, that Zhang Jiaohua does seem a bit unusual.”

The next day, military training began.

The academic elites of the Fourth High School soon discovered the cruel irony of excelling in mental pursuits but being utterly unprepared for physical challenges. Zhang Jiaohua, however, stood unperturbed, not even breaking a sweat.

Lu Cunyang, who had already forgotten the captain’s instructions, was nearly driven to despair trying to train these “high-achieving weaklings.” “Teaching these nerds to march properly is harder than teaching a monkey to use tools,” he lamented to Li Chuyi during a break.

Li Chuyi laughed, “It’s not that bad. These kids learn quickly once you explain the movements clearly. Some just need extra practice. Maybe we could group the less athletic ones and teach them separately?”

“You do it. I’ve had enough,” Lu Cunyang grumbled.

Meanwhile, Zhang Jiaohua’s classmates, including Xu Xiaoting and Zhou Qimu, were visibly struggling. Zhou Qimu lasted only five minutes before calling out, “Report!”

“Are you disabled?” Lu Cunyang snapped. “Five minutes, and you’re already giving up? How are you any different from a cripple?”

Zhang Jiaohua, observing calmly, was soon singled out.

“Zhang Jiaohua!” Lu Cunyang called. “Step forward!”

“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong,” Zhang Jiaohua replied, puzzled.

“Exactly. Tell me why you’re not sweating like the others?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t feel tired,” he answered nonchalantly.

Suppressing their frustration, his classmates listened as Zhang Jiaohua shared his secret: “When standing at attention, inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth, silently reciting these six sounds: Xu, He, Hu, Xi, Chui, and Xi.”

Zhou Qimu dismissed it with a sneer, “What nonsense.”