In the blink of an eye, a month passed. Wei Zhe's devilish training showed no signs of letting up, but instead intensified.
The ten-li weighted cross-country run every morning saw the load increased from thirty catties to forty catties, and finally even reached fifty catties. For the last hundred runners, the punishment changed from no breakfast to no food at all, plus the responsibility of cleaning the latrines for the entire camp.
As for that body-refinement technique that nearly worked them to death, the training time was also extended from one shichen to an hour and a half. Every time they finished practicing, the entire drill ground was littered with people, their wails rising one after another. Anyone who didn't know better would have thought a fierce battle had just been fought here.
The afternoon formation drills drove these veteran soldiers to distraction. The Three Talents Iron Bucket Formation designed by Wei Zhe was exquisite indeed, but its demands on coordination were far too high. Divided into groups of three, one person took charge of defense while two focused on offense. Between the transition of offense and attack, footwork, the thrusting of weapons, and their retraction all had to be without the slightest error.
At first, these soldiers, who had long been accustomed to being undisciplined, simply could not adapt. When the formation got moving, either you crashed into him or he tripped you up, turning everything into a chaotic mess.
Wei Zhe's method of correction was simple and brutal: pull them out and beat them.
He had Qian Hu and Hu Lei each lead a century of veterans from the former Tiger and Wolf Army to act as "sparring partners." These veterans had long since practiced the formation to perfection, coordinating seamlessly.
Whichever rookie unit made a mistake during the drill was immediately dragged out to fight a real, steel-and-blade battle with these sparring partners. Of course, they used unsharpened wooden weapons.
Yet even wood, when surrounded and subjected to a fierce pounding by dozens of people, was definitely an unpleasant experience.
Every afternoon, the drill ground was filled with the sound of thudding impacts and the miserable screams of the recruits.
"Damn it! Li San, your shield lift was too slow!"
"Wang Wu, I told you to stab his left flank—where the hell are you thrusting?"
"Our group messed up again! It's over, it's over, we're going to get beaten again!"
In the short span of a week, these recruits were beaten black and blue, with not a single patch of unblemished skin left on their bodies.
Yet, strangely enough, far from complaints and resistance appearing in the camp, an increasingly high-spirited fighting spirit permeated the air.
This was because everyone clearly felt that they were growing stronger at an unbelievable speed.
Those who previously ran three or five li and grew short of breath could now finish ten li with a fifty-catty load. Although exhausting, by gritting their teeth they could push through. Those who previously could barely draw a one-shi bow could now pull a one-and-a-half-shi bow, finding it much easier than before.
The most intuitive change was their appetite. Those who previously felt full after two bowls of rice could now wipe out five bowls in a single meal and still feel hungry.
The strength in their bodies seemed endless.
More importantly, Wei Zhe's "carrot" was simply too generous.
After training ended every day, the fat-dripping mutton and beef stewed in the giant cauldrons were always available in unlimited amounts! As long as you could eat it, no one would stop you even if you ate until you threw up.
If you were injured during training, whether it was a scraped skin or a broken bone, the best Golden Sore Medicine and Bone-Rejoining Paste were immediately sent over, also in unlimited supplies. These military remedies, so hard to come by for a thousand gold outside, were practically treated like they cost nothing in the Tiger and Wolf Army's camp.
Wei Zhe also set up an internal competition. In daily training, he personally evaluated the squads, and the century that performed best would receive an extra jar of fine wine that evening, with every soldier also collecting a "bonus" of ten copper coins.
Though the money wasn't much, this was about honor!
To vie for the title of "number one," and for that jar of wine and ten copper coins, every century went crazy, exerting every ounce of strength during training and competing fiercely against one another. The century led by Sun He, possessing the best foundation and consisting of veteran ruffians who fought the hardest, actually took first place for three consecutive days. That left even Sun He grinning from ear to ear, and he looked upon Wei Zhe with increasing favor.
The "carrots" were handed out generously, and the "big stick" was likewise applied without mercy. Yet Wei Zhe's "big stick" made everyone submit willingly.
On this day, a soldier named Zhao Sai accidentally sprained his ankle during training, wincing in pain. Logically speaking, he could rest for a few days. But that evening, he limped his way to Wei Zhe's tent.
"Chieftain..." Zhao Sai was an honest, simple-minded fellow. As soon as he entered the tent, he dropped to his knees with a thud, his eye rims red.
"Get up. Speak your mind if you have something to say. What are you kneeling for?" Wei Zhe was wiping his long halberd and didn't even raise his head.
"Chieftain, I... I want to draw three months of my military pay in advance..." Zhao Sai's voice carried a sob. "I... I received a letter from home today. My mother... is seriously ill and urgently needs money to buy medicine, otherwise... otherwise she..."
He couldn't go on. A man standing seven feet tall wept like a child.
Drawing pay in advance within the military was a major taboo. Furthermore, these recruits had only just arrived not long ago and had yet to render a single merit.
Wei Zhe stopped the movement in his hands, raised his head, and looked at him. "How much do you need?"
"The letter says... it... it's fifty gold..." Zhao Sai's voice was as soft as a mosquito's hum.
Fifty gold!
For an ordinary soldier, this was an astronomical sum that he could almost never earn in a lifetime. His annual military pay, added together, amounted to no more than a few gold pieces.
Wei Zhe said nothing. He stood up and dragged a heavy wooden box out from under his bed. When the box opened, it revealed neatly arranged gold cakes inside—a part of the ten thousand yi of gold previously bestowed by the King of Qin.
He casually took out five gold cakes from it, each weighing ten gold, and threw them before Zhao Sai.
"Is this enough?"
Zhao Sai looked at the glittering gold on the ground and was completely stunned. He tremblingly reached out his hand, yet didn't dare to touch it.
"Chief... Chieftain... This... this is too much... I... I will never be able to pay this back in my lifetime..."
"Who told you to pay it back?" Wei Zhe's tone remained calm. "You are a soldier of my Tiger and Wolf Army; your family is the family of Wei Zhe. With trouble at home, soldiers are risking their lives out here. If we cannot even protect the safety of our own families, what meaning is there to serving as a soldier?"
He paused, then took another five gold cakes from the box.
"Take these fifty gold pieces to cure your mother's illness, buy the best medicine, and hire the best doctor. Send these other fifty gold pieces home so your father and wife can buy some fields and build a big house, and stop living bitter lives from now on."
"Train here with peace of mind. When you finally achieve merit and become a centurion, it won't be too late to think about paying me back."
Zhao Sai blankly stared at the full one hundred gold pieces on the ground, then raised his head to look at Wei Zhe. Tears could no longer be held back, gushing forth like a breached dike. He said nothing more, merely heavy-heartedly kowtowing three resounding times to Wei Zhe, his forehead bruising and bleeding.
Wei Zhe did not deliberately publicize this matter. But by the next day, the entire Tiger and Wolf Army camp, all three thousand soldiers, knew about it.
The entire camp erupted.
"Did you hear? Zhao Sai's mother is sick, and the Chieftain gave him a hundred gold pieces directly!"
"Holy crap! One hundred gold! Really or fake?"
"True beyond a doubt! I saw with my own eyes Zhao Sai holding the gold and crying all night! The Chieftain even said we are all his family!"
"My god... Following a commander like this, dying is worth it!"
For a time, the hearts of all the soldiers were enveloped by a massive current of warmth. The gaze they cast toward Wei Zhe was no longer mere pure awe; it contained an extra trace of fanatical worship, a loyalty for which they could lay down their lives.
Even Sun He, after hearing about this, quietly drank half a jar of brooding wine by himself. He remembered when he had first become a soldier, his family had been so poor they couldn't keep the pot boiling, and when his sister fell ill there was no money for medicine, ultimately dragging her down to her death. If back then he could have encountered a commander like Wei Zhe...
He shook the thought away, drained the wine in his cup in a single gulp, and his gaze turned incomparably resolute.
Yet Wei Zhe's method of governing the army was never solely built on warmth.
Before you continue