A Frail Constitution

Watching Shen Shouli storm off in a huff, leaving her alone at the back, Xu Lingqu felt quite smug.

Actually, she could tell that Shen Shouli had probably meant to keep her company, so she wouldn't have to face the humiliation alone. It was a kind thought.

Too bad Xu Lingqu was an expert at taking kindness for granted.

The training ground was huge, and by the time the two-kilometer run was over, Jin and Xu Xiqin, who had been racing each other, had already lapped her once. They both looked a bit surprised to see her.

Xu Lingqu was too out of breath to speak, so she just waved them on ahead.

Starting with them, the rest of the crowd gradually overtook her one by one.

Liu Zheng and Shen Shouli also ran past. Shen Shouli awkwardly turned his head to glance at her, which she found baffling.

Her shoulders ached more and more, her legs grew heavier. Xu Lingqu's pace slowed until she couldn't even maintain her own target speed, falling further behind the main group.

One after another, they passed her, the gap widening. Even the non-combat track students began to overtake her. It wasn't their strong suit either, but they'd been military cadets before and had trained, so naturally they were far better off than Xu Lingqu, who had only gotten in through the back door.

But Xu Lingqu herself wasn't worried.

From passing out after two laps around the Xu family's back garden to now barely enduring high-intensity training, she was already satisfied with her progress.

Unfortunately, others saw a stark contrast. Sun Liao, in particular, mocked her loudly as he passed: "Isn't this our top student? Guess top can mean first from the bottom too."

His companions burst into derisive laughter, expecting her to get upset or angry. But to their disappointment, she remained indifferent, her face a blank mask as she kept her pace.

Tang Muwen also ran past and murmured, "Want me to pull you along?"

She shot him a glance. She didn't have the energy to speak, so she tried to convey with her eyes: the instructors were watching; if they broke rank, they'd both be punished.

Tang Muwen understood, but he insisted on slowing down and keeping pace beside her, watching her run.

The race for first ended quickly—Xu Xiqin won by half a body length. She excitedly looked around for her sister, but the sea of people was too vast. Jin was beside her, panting and refusing to accept defeat. Liu Zheng and Shen Shouli came next, and the main group trickled in a while later.

Everyone stopped running, and Xu Xiqin wanted to go over to support Xu Lingqu, but she saw that Xu Lingqu hadn't stopped.

"She still has one more lap," Tang Muwen explained.

Now only Xu Lingqu remained on the track. Her throat felt scorched dry, her legs so heavy they seemed ready to give out. Sweat poured down her face, blurring her vision. She wiped it away. Physical basics couldn't be forced; finishing was good enough.

Back in the apocalypse, thanks to the freakish constitution of evolved humans, she'd never had to worry about physical fitness. Now in the interstellar era, there were no shortcuts—everything had to start over from scratch.

With that thought, she adjusted her breathing, her mind calming gradually as she maintained her rhythm. The instructor followed behind in a small cart, military baton in hand. About five minutes later, Xu Lingqu finally finished the remaining distance.

After dragging this body through the entire run, she was unsteady on her feet, a mouthful of blood stuck in her throat, neither coming up nor going down. She looked terrible.

Xu Xiqin rushed over first and supported her, helping her take off the weighted gear strapped to her back. She was about to walk her around slowly to cool down when Instructor Chen appeared.

"Next training item: ten-kilometer weighted run."

So today really was pure physical training. The students resigned themselves to starting again. This time, Xu Xiqin didn't sprint ahead to race Jin. She grabbed Xu Lingqu's hand, trying to run alongside her, but Xu Lingqu shook her off.

"Go run ahead," Xu Lingqu said directly.

"No way, what happens if I leave you?" Xu Xiqin had a feeling Xu Lingqu was about to do something stubborn on her own, just like when she'd silently assigned herself the most dangerous zone during the rescue mission.

"I'm resting." Xu Lingqu stopped and walked straight toward Instructor Chen.

"Huh?" Xu Xiqin stood frozen, watching Xu Lingqu actually walk up to Instructor Chen, exchange a few words, and sit down.

Only after confirming that Xu Lingqu really had just sat down did she silently return to the track and start chasing after Jin, who was already far ahead.

The conversation between Instructor Chen and Xu Lingqu was brief.

"Missing a run costs two points. Are you sure you want to skip?"

Xu Lingqu nodded and sat down.

Points were meant to be spent. The human body had limits, and especially this body of hers—those limits were pitifully low. There was no point in fighting against one's own life. Live to fight another day—that was Xu Lingqu's philosophy.

Instructor Chen wasn't surprised by her choice. As the rescue incident had shown, she was clever. And from the day she'd suddenly collapsed right beside him during the one-on-one combat drill, it was also clear that she was a clever person with a frail constitution.

"Too exhausted to keep going?" Instructor Chen initiated the conversation.

"Mm." Seated now, Xu Lingqu still felt a metallic taste of blood clinging to her throat.

"Your Psychic Power Level isn't high either," Instructor Chen said as he sat down. "So even though your rank is quite high, you'll never be a mech soldier. Does that bother you?"

Actually, setting aside her frail constitution and low psychic level, Xu Lingqu was practically a born mech pilot. Piloting a mech required brains—or rather, it required brains more than anything else.

Many people mistakenly believed that commanders were a group of scheming intellectuals, analysts were humanoid supercomputers, and mech pilots were a bunch of violent brutes with high psychic power who could fight—simple and crude.

But that wasn't the case. A mech was such a precise instrument of killing that the difference between a smart person and a fool using it was like night and day.

Xu Lingqu didn't have this problem.

After all, her real psychic power was SS-level, not B-level. Mech soldier selection was based on one's true status; psychic power couldn't restrict her.

But she had no intention of actively revealing her psychic power and becoming a mech soldier, because she still didn't have a deep understanding of mechs. And if she wanted to learn anything about them, she already had Liu Ming, who claimed to be a 3S-level mech. As far as she was concerned, Liu Ming was still about eighty percent trustworthy.

Rather than exposing her SS-level psychic power and putting herself in danger, it was better to stay put, bide her time, and absorb knowledge about mechs from Liu Ming first.

"No, being a commander is fine too." That was Xu Lingqu's genuine thought at the moment.

"You're quite open-minded," Instructor Chen remarked.

Xu Lingqu nodded. "Objective circumstances are what they are. There's no point in making things hard on myself."

Instructor Chen gave a helpless smile, quite different from his usual insincere one. "But I have a feeling that once you get your hands on a mech, you're absolutely going to fall in love with it."

Xu Lingqu didn't respond right away.

Suddenly, the image surfaced in her mind of that enormous white mech bowing to her during her psychic awakening.

Beautiful, massive, and precise—an instrument of death, like a knight in gleaming armor bathed in moonlight.

"Maybe I will," Xu Lingqu said softly.