No one under sixteen. No one over thirty. They had to be healthy, with no defects or hidden illnesses.
Though thirty was prime age in modern times, villagers worked so hard that by thirty their bodies had already taken quite a beating. Sending them into such grueling training—their bodies probably wouldn't have held up.
Everyone understood the reasoning and didn't make a fuss.
The operation was massive, the examinations strict. Everyone grew serious and nervous, afraid the officials would deem them unfit.
With limited conditions, they naturally couldn't replicate modern standards. In the end, the four counties recruited over three thousand men. The most eager enlistments came from the nine villages of Anhe County, along with the people of Shunan. They'd suffered years of bandit raids, and they understood well enough—the bandits were so brazen partly because the officials were useless, and partly because Shunan had no soldiers. The outlaws could raid streets and villages at will, with no soldiers to protect them.
Now they enlisted with great enthusiasm. Three years later, Da Yuan allied with Northern Qi and overran several counties of Jizhou. Countless refugees, tattered and starving, fled across the border. In areas near Jizhou, one could even see great fires sweeping across the land and thick smoke billowing from that direction.
With the enemy nearly at Hezhou's border and the imperial court dragging its feet on sending troops, these soldiers held the line alongside Fang Zichen at Hezhou's frontier. The enemy couldn't break through—in fact, Fang Zichen chased them all the way back to their own doorstep. Only then did everyone feel profoundly grateful that the official had conscripted them, building an unbreakable shield for Hezhou. Otherwise, Hezhou too would have fallen, just like Jizhou.
Over four thousand, nearly five thousand men—far beyond expectations. Fang Zichen sorted through the lists submitted by the neighboring counties. Some families had sent three or four brothers to sign up. But in such cases, even if all met the requirements, Fang Zichen wouldn't take all of them—at most two. Otherwise, if all the young men left, only the old, weak, and sick would remain at home. Who would work the fields?
He struck off a portion and ended up with 3,800-odd men.
It looked like a lot, but it still wasn't enough. In Da Xia, a prefecture's garrison usually numbered eight thousand to ten thousand or more. The plan was to train this batch first, then assign them to each county—three to five hundred per county, with a bit more for the main city. At just over three thousand, they were still far short, but for now, this would have to do.
Once conscription started, Fang Zichen had the deputy prefect arrange for a training ground to be built outside Hezhou City. But the barracks weren't up yet, so the new recruits would have to stay in the old soldiers' quarters—a bit far from the city, but there was no helping it.
The training ground was broad and spacious, with all its facilities modeled after modern ones. Fang Zichen had been sent by his grandfather to train in the military for a stretch, so he knew exactly what he was doing.
Fang Zichen wanted to put Shi Linjie in charge, with the Qin family troops assisting, to train the new soldiers.
But looking at the training plan on paper, Shi Linjie didn't quite understand it.
Modern new-recruit training mainly covered formation drills, physical fitness, tactical exercises, and grenade throwing.
For now, it was just formation drills and fitness training—start with those two and leave tactics for later.
The first built discipline—without rules, nothing held together. The second built physical strength.
War in ancient times was not like modern warfare. On the battlefield, soldiers were either chasing the enemy or being chased. A battle did not end in just half a shichen (1 hour). Swinging a blade took stamina. If a soldier tired out after just a few swings and his arm went limp—so that when he slashed at the enemy, he did not even break the enemy's skin—how ridiculous would that be? And when the enemy swung back, he could hardly shout, "Hold on, hold on—give me a breather, we'll fight again in a moment!"
The simplest, fastest way to build endurance and stamina was running.
This training approach was new to Shi Linjie. When he trained soldiers for the Qin family, they never did anything like this. But he'd seen Guaizai in action during the bandit raid—the boy had charged straight in and took down one bandit after another with his staff. Even Shi Linjie found it frightening.
Could an ordinary child do that?
Without real force and devastating power behind that staff, could a bandit be knocked out cold and not get back up?
And when Guaizai sparred with the soldiers at the general's mansion—they fought for most of the day. The soldiers were panting hard, their movements noticeably slower, but Guaizai was still bouncing around like nothing was wrong.
When the eldest young master egged him on, he took down the soldier in just a few moves. Then, without even stopping to catch his breath, he ran straight over to the eldest young master and said he wanted chicken. The eldest young master took him to the main hall, and with the zhujun on one side and him on the other, Guaizai grinned from ear to ear, beaming so wide that every one of his teeth showed.
He downed a whole chicken by himself. The zhujun doted on him, tearing steamed buns into bits and feeding him piece by piece—and he ate two whole buns too, without even choking. When they'd trained so hard they were utterly exhausted, sometimes they couldn't even finish a bowl of porridge, let alone chicken and buns.
He'd asked around and found out: Guaizai had been personally trained by Fang Zichen himself—and in just a few short years.
Shi Linjie had no idea what the purpose was at that moment, but he followed the orders without a second thought.
The young men who had been selected were overjoyed. They went home, packed their bundles, and spent another two days saying their goodbyes. The next day, their families saw them off at the town, and there were tearful farewells all around.
Hezhou was a long way from their Anping County—even on horseback, it took two and a half days.
For the first time in their lives, these men were leaving home to go somewhere so distant. There was some fear in their hearts, but even more curiosity and longing.
They were finally going to leave the village and see the world beyond.
Their families were reluctant to let them go too. With red-rimmed eyes, they urged the men to take care of themselves out there.
The Qin family soldiers kept order, making everyone line up and handing out eight steamed buns to each man.
There were too many people, and the horse-drawn carts couldn't carry them all, so they would have to walk the whole way. The buns were meant to be rations for the journey.
Fang Zichen came to boost their morale once more: "You are fine men, true sons of the realm, and the strong backbone of the people of Hezhou. In this life, death comes to all—some deaths are as weighty as Mount Tai, others as light as a goose feather. Death is not to be feared, nor is poverty. What is to be feared is walking through this world for nothing—achieving nothing in life, and being forgotten in death. Not long ago, the Da Yuan army swept into the prefecture next to ours and slaughtered several thousand of our Da Xia people. That was grief. That was shame. And that was a lesson. We must grow strong. We must make sure everyone knows that the people of Da Xia, and the men of Hezhou, are the strongest and the most fearsome. We men must defend our families, defend our people, and defend our Da Xia. Anyone who dares touch us—we will crush them to the last man. To serve as a soldier and protect Da Xia—that is what it means to be a true hero. You have taken this great step, and you are extraordinary. On behalf of everyone, I thank you..."
The new recruits, who had been feeling the sadness of parting just moments before, were now completely fired up.
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