Zhang Xianyang and the others first went to the changing room and changed into four newly issued special forces training uniforms, along with all the equipment needed for training. Zhang Muyang and the other two were all tall and powerfully built, and they looked especially spirited in the gear. Zhang Xianyang alone had a lean, well-proportioned frame. Because of his age, he was only 1.73 meters tall. The standard-issue equipment hung loosely on him, his delicate face hidden beneath his cap. Only the pale pink of his neck and ears showed. With an enormous backpack strapped to his back, he looked even smaller—nothing like a soldier no matter how one looked at him.
Once everyone had geared up and stepped out, Zhang Xianyang was immediately underestimated. Meanwhile, Old Master Jiang stepped forward and squeezed Zhang Xianyang's sturdy shoulder, smiling approvingly. "I can tell at a glance that you're trained. Even in the military, you should rank near the top."
Zhang Muyang smiled faintly and nodded. "Thank you for the praise, Old Master."
Neither arrogant nor overbearing, neither boastful nor conceited. Old Master Jiang nodded and said no more.
Jiang Peize led them directly to the training ground. The surrounding soldiers had already stopped training and cleared the field for the two sides about to compete. Zhang Xianyang heard someone in the crowd shout, "Come on, brothers! Especially you, Wang Xiao'er—if you lose, you'll be kneeling on a washboard when you get back!"
Following the voice, Zhang Xianyang spotted several civilian soldiers who had once gone to the Old District to act as extras. Though various reasons had kept those soldiers from appearing on screen, they had gotten along even better with the Old District people in private. Seeing them now truly felt like meeting old friends in a foreign land.