The military training lasted more than twenty days, with formation drills, forced marches, and live-fire exercises. Every day was high-intensity collective living; no one could leave the unit without reason. It was proper military-style discipline. As a result, Wang Yan had not had much contact with students from other departments. He mostly stayed in the Fine Arts Academy's own little corner, fooling around and laughing with a bunch of young people.
During the training, his good attitude and solid abilities earned him numerous honors, including the school's model for dormitory discipline, outstanding individual, and first place in the military competition. He was the Fine Arts Academy's star during military training. With all those honors, he had also been internally selected for the academy's scholarship quota.
At a politically influential university like Beiqing, no honor was handed out for nothing; each carried a certain amount of weight. Scholarships in particular carried enormous prestige. They represented not only a tangible financial reward, but also the recognition accumulated over a hundred years behind them—absolute proof of one's overall strength.
Whether it was being a gifted student, having powerful family connections, or possessing both, that was all strength.
The end of military training had deliberately been arranged for Friday, allowing everyone two days to rest, ease the tension and exhaustion from training, and begin their real university life and studies.
After lunch, everyone returned to the dormitory. The guys groaned and collapsed onto their beds.
The chubby Sun Zhenxing lay sprawled over Zhou Guosheng, while Zhang Hai occupied another lower bunk by himself, his neck resting against the wall as he lounged there lazily.
"That was really not easy. It's finally over," Zhang Hai sighed. "Still, Third Brother, you're the real deal. The three of us were practically dead from exhaustion, and you ended