Upon returning to school, Wang Zhuo plunged into military training. Given his physical conditioning, this level of exertion was simple, though being barked at by the drill instructor was somewhat irritating.
The extensive, high-intensity rainfall that had lasted for a month finally ceased. The Gorge Dam, once touted as capable of withstanding a thousand-year flood, experienced several near-catastrophic moments, but fortunately, its quality held up, ultimately averting disaster.
The sun emerged as if summoned, the entire sky seemingly cleared overnight. On the fifth day of training, over seventy out of a thousand new students collapsed from the heat. It became evident that even top scholars at a key university were not comprehensively developed in moral, intellectual, physical, aesthetic, and labor aspects—at least not physically.
During the Military Boxing segment, Wang Zhuo’s performance was exceptional. The instructor and counselor unanimously agreed he should participate in the display during the final day's review ceremony. Wang Zhuo had no desire to stand on a high platform, performing like a monkey for the entire school, and immediately declined.
His instructor tried to compel him using military orders and other justifications, but thankfully, the department head, Wang Taiping, heard about it and publicly supported Wang Zhuo, causing the matter to be dropped.
On the tenth day of military training, the much-anticipated firearms instruction finally arrived, and even Wang Zhuo could not be exempt.
For many students sheltered in the ivory tower, this might be the only opportunity in their lives to ever hold a gun. Both the school and the military took this segment seriously, doubling the support personnel assigned to assist.
Training like disassembling and reassembling guns was strictly the stuff of movies. Wang Zhuo and his peers were only taught how to load magazines, engage the safety, and the basics of safety procedures and firing. These lessons were straightforward, but ensuring safety was paramount and could not be taken lightly. Consequently, what could theoretically be learned in two hours was stretched out over two full days of instruction.
The moment they had eagerly awaited finally arrived: live-fire practice.
“Did you watch the demonstration clearly just now!” The instructor scrambled up from the ground, having just scored a respectable forty-eight rings.
“We saw it clearly!” the raw recruits shouted excitedly.
“Wang Zhuo!” the instructor roared with a gravelly voice.
“Present!” Wang Zhuo bellowed, chest out.
“Step forward!”
“Yes!”
“Take your rifle, do exactly as I demonstrated, understood?!”
“Understood!”
Arriving at the firing position, Wang Zhuo dropped into a low prone stance. An auxiliary soldier handed him the fully loaded Type 56 SKS rifle and lay down beside him, ready to handle any emergency.
As for whether anyone had ever turned a muzzle toward their classmates, only heaven knew.
Check the round, disengage safety, aim, fire—the entire sequence was executed flawlessly in one fluid motion!
Bang! The first bullet struck the bullseye—a perfect ten rings!
“Squad leader is mighty!”
“Go for it, Wang Zhuo!”
“That’s the spirit, Wang Zhuo, keep it up!”
“Get a perfect score and take out the instructor!”
The students erupted in a flurry of noise, forgetting discipline in the moment, figuring that a group offense would result in only a minor reprimand.
Wang Zhuo’s mind was calm as still water, deaf to the clamor. His single eye locked onto the center of the target; the distance seemed to shrink tenfold, then twentyfold. The target center appeared larger than a manhole cover. He squeezed the trigger!
“Ten rings!”
Bang!
“Another ten rings!”
Bang bang!
“Wang Zhuo!” The instructor lunged forward with a roar, delivering a kick squarely to Wang Zhuo’s backside: “What in the hell are you doing!”
The last two shots had been illegally converted by Wang Zhuo into semi-automatic bursts, leaving two closely clustered holes in the target center. The fifty-ring perfect score, surpassing the instructor’s demonstration, was a certainty, but the instructor’s anger stemmed from Wang Zhuo’s rule violation—using fully automatic fire!
Wang Zhuo wasn't angry about the kick. He grinned, scrambling up from the ground. He knew the freshmen military training only allowed two shooting opportunities: today's trial session and tomorrow's assessment, five rounds each, all required to be single-shot bursts. There was no chance to practice semi-auto fire.
This meant that if he pulled a trick now, he might never get a chance to use rapid fire again in his life!
“One hundred push-ups!” The instructor lifted his foot to kick again, but Wang Zhuo nimbly dodged and jogged to the side to begin his required exercises, laughing.
“Next, Geng Bin, step forward!” the instructor roared, adding sternly, “If anyone else dares to try any tricks, you’ll be doing five hundred push-ups later and skipping dinner!”
Live-fire practice continued as one person after another took their turn. Some missed the target entirely, while other capable students managed scores in the high forties.
Wang Zhuo quickly finished his hundred push-ups and sat down to rest. He realized his eyesight had improved significantly; he could clearly see the individual fibers on the target paper fifty meters away.
Furthermore, the sensation of dizziness from sustained use of his special ability was less pronounced than before. He could use it for longer periods and recover much faster.
On a whim, he focused his vision downward onto the ground beneath his feet, penetrating the soil, extending deeper and deeper, even passing through rock strata, until he saw groundwater twenty meters below.
This discovery brought him joy, mixed with a sense of the absurd. Perhaps he should have majored in Geology; he could have become a master mineral prospector!
If only Zhou Huai’an knew about this; he would surely correct Wang Zhuo’s thinking: Why be a mere surveyor? You should be raiding ancient tombs and graves; everything unearthed would be a national treasure—that’s how you truly make money fast!
...
The eighteen-day military training finally concluded amidst the exhaustion of the freshmen. Wang Zhuo dominated the final day’s shooting competition, scoring 52.1 rings with five shots, securing the individual first-class prize with an overwhelming lead.
Shooting tested not only eyesight but also the shooter’s physical coordination and mental fortitude—both of which Wang Zhuo seemed born for. He had been hitting his mark every time with a slingshot since childhood, and with the aid of his special ability, his skill reached another plateau. It was no wonder he shone so brightly in his first shooting competition.
Vice Principal Ma Dehai, who oversaw the training, couldn't stop smiling. This was the first time since the school's founding that they had adopted a scoring system involving decimal points, and immediately, the nine-year-old record of 50 rings was shattered—achieving an average of 10.42 rings per shot was certainly worthy of being recorded in the school's history!
What he failed to realize was that this score would later draw endless criticism, because students enrolled here to study medicine, not to become professional marksmen. This score was something even world-class shooters could only achieve with an exceptional performance using competition-grade weapons. Thus, the record Wang Zhuo inadvertently set would likely never be broken!
After receiving Vice Principal Ma’s excited report, the Principal immediately made a decision: “Talent like this must be nurtured! We will send him to the University Games next year to bring honor to the school and the nation!”
“Such hand-eye coordination and mental stability—he would be an absolutely perfect chief surgeon,” Ma Dehai murmured to himself after hanging up the phone. “This kind of rare quality is truly precious. I think even without Old Master Qin’s favor, this kid deserves priority development.”
The military training was followed by two days of rest. Gan Lin had similar plans, having arranged a gathering with a few female classmates. Wang Zhuo stayed home, fiddling with his stones.
Fat Dragon, however, had practically moved into Wang Zhuo’s new place over the last few days. The fellow had somehow procured a medical certificate and successfully evaded military training at his own school, enjoying carefree days instead.
Guo Jiandeng’s promotion efforts were highly effective. News about his collection kept emerging, maintaining momentum and freshness. Driven by speculation from all sides, the price of jade continued to rise, consequently increasing Wang Zhuo’s assets. After eighteen days of training, the stones piled up in his room had appreciated by hundreds of thousands.
It truly was a case of earning money while sitting at home—a testament to the powerful motion of capital.
As the sun dipped toward the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant hues, Wang Zhuo was sketching lines on a piece of rough jade. Fat Dragon, Jin Chengyou, walked into the room with a conspiratorial air and tossed him a carbon pen.
“What’s this?” Wang Zhuo put down the chalk and picked up the pen. “This is for me?”
“Press this one, hold for two seconds, then press this spot twice in quick succession, and it will start recording,” Fat Dragon pointed to two slightly raised points on the pen, chuckling wickedly. “It has enough battery to record an hour. I tested it. Should be enough for you and Gan Lin!”
“Get lost,” Wang Zhuo slapped him away with an exasperated smile. He examined the carbon pen curiously; it actually wrote. A tiny camera lens was disguised among a ring of decorative colored lights, completely undetectable.
Using his ability to see through it, Wang Zhuo immediately spotted the intricate, neatly arranged electronic components, causing him to frown. “This must be expensive, right?”
Fat Dragon snickered. “Baidu sells it for eight hundred; the electronics market sells it for eighty! It’s a gift for you to play with.”
Saying that, he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, tossed it onto the desk, and turned to leave. “The instruction manual is here. Look it up yourself.”
Wang Zhuo was quite interested in novel electronic gadgets. Hearing that something so sophisticated cost only eighty yuan immediately piqued his interest, and he picked up the manual to read.
Just as he finished the manual and was about to test it out, Gan Lin’s call came through.
“Wang Zhuo, I’m done for, hurry and come pick me up.” Gan Lin’s voice was laced with distress.
Wang Zhuo startled, immediately standing up. “What’s wrong? Tell me the details quickly.”
“I just realized when I got off the bus to transfer—my wallet was stolen. And I can’t even see a taxi here, and the bus routes have changed. I can’t get home!”
“Where are you? I’ll be right there to get you!”