Beyond the Zenith

It was a little past seven when Han Qingyu and his friends left the equipment hall and headed back to the barracks.

The streetlights and floodlights around the barracks were on. Over a dozen buildings ringed a large rectangular communal laundry area in the center, which was really just rows of faucets and concrete slabs. The whole place buzzed with activity, filled with the sounds of water splashing, scrub brushes swishing back and forth, and metal basins clanging against the ground. The voices of male and female soldiers mixed ‌with the clamor.

Surprisingly, the male soldiers actually washed their clothes more frequently than most would expect. It was hard to say whether this was because the combat uniforms genuinely looked good, or because female soldiers made up nearly a quarter of the forces. Men and women stood in the same formation on the battlefield, and no one wanted to smell rancid.

By this stage, though, some men had already found female soldiers willing to wash their laundry together with their own. There were different approaches to this, from entering a flirtatious in-between stage, being openly affectionate, or simply pestering the girls shamelessly until they gave in.

Pairs stood together around the various sinks. The girl washed while the guy stood nearby chatting, rolling up her sleeves for her and wringing out the clothes. Other guys tossed their laundry into a female friend’s basin and bolted, shouting over their shoulders, “Please! Please! I’ll buy you something tasty next time, or a dress!”

Others dropped clothes out of an upper-floor window into a girl’s waiting hands, laughing and calling down, “Thanks so much!”

This was probably what the Azure Coalition meant about fostering a sense of everyday life among its soldiers. It was also a glimpse of something simpler and more direct—love, the Azure Coalition way.

As Han Qingyu’s group passed through the laundry area, filled with noise and sweet-talking, Liu Shiheng suddenly turned to Han Qingyu. “Get a load of this.”

“Yeah, get a load of this,” He Tangtang echoed, not entirely sure what he meant but chiming in anyway.

“Imagine this, Little Qing,” Wen Jifei said. “What if one day, Miss Mira stood here with her shirtsleeves rolled up, and you just chucked your laundry down to her from upstairs? This whole place would explode! If only you weren’t a stupid donkey.”

“But starting from the rank of first lieutenant, the household logistics unit handles laundry. Platoon Leader Mira doesn’t even need to do her own laundry,” Han Qingyu said with complete sincerity.

The others stared at him in collective disbelief. He really is missing something upstairs.

Disregarding their judgmental gazes, Han Qingyu headed back to their dorm to wash his own clothes.

Living conditions at the Ninth Army’s combat training base were better than at the regiment base. For one, laundry was a lot more convenient. Besides the communal area downstairs, each room’s balcony also had a rough concrete washbasin on either side. Only after using one did people truly appreciate the material and quality of the Coalition’s combat uniforms.

The dorms were also equipped with desks for every person, likely because of the academic classes.

It was nighttime, with lights out before nine. Han Qingyu sat at his desk with a small hardcover notebook and a pen, alternating between writing and thinking, focused in a way that was reminiscent of his senior year of high school.

Cash: 6,000 + 10,000 + ?

Before leaving, he had left the six thousand that Lao Jian had delivered for his family. The ten thousand was the Silver Azure Guardian Medal bonus, which he’d sent home not long ago, and that his parents had confirmed they’d received in a reply.

That letter was tucked inside the notebook’s leather cover. His parents didn’t write much, as they didn’t know many characters, but he still took it out to read from time to time.

Based on his conversations with the army commander and Tu Zi, he would receive at least another Silver Azure Guardian Medal this time, which meant another ten thousand yuan. If the International Coalition Council approved the army’s report, he could even receive a Gold one, which meant a hundred thousand. The question mark in his equation was because he still didn’t know which he would receive.

A hundred thousand. The gap between a Gold and Silver Azure Guardian Medal was staggering. Just the thought was absurd. If he actually got it and tried to send it home, he’d have a hard time explaining where it came from.

Total cash: 26,000 or 116,000.

Even twenty-six thousand was more than enough. Either way, it seemed he could put that worry to rest and set the issue of money aside.

Han Qingyu then turned to calculating his energy cores. He left out the two raw metal cores he’d already absorbed from the aircraft. Those were secret and had gone straight into his body to build his foundation. There was no way to assign them a value.

Energy cores on hand: 4 - 1 + 3 = 6.

That was the number of blue crystal energy cores Han Qingyu had on hand. Four from his Silver Azure Guardian Medal bonus and three from his new friend. He’d given one to Wen Jifei a while back, but as Wen Jifei wore the maneuvering device less often, he hadn’t used it up yet.

7?

That was the seven Tu Zi owed him. Han Qingyu put a question mark after it and did his best not to dwell on it. He tried to adopt the attitude that getting them would be nice, but not getting them would be fine too. Being owed something truly felt terrible.

4 or 10?

If this time’s medal was Silver, the one-time bonus would be four energy cores, the same as last time. If it were Gold, the one-time bonus would be ten. Han Qingyu yearned fiercely for that Gold Azure Guardian Medal.

Beyond the one-time bonus, the Gold Azure Guardian Medal also came with three energy cores per quarter over the next five years, while the Silver only provided one.

Next five years, annual: 4 × 1 (confirmed) + 4 × 1 or 4 × 3?

In other words, if he received another Silver, his annual non-combat benefit would be eight energy cores. If it were Gold, that number would double to sixteen.

“Even with the Gold, it’s still so few,” he murmured.

With the financial safety net for his parents secured, Han Qingyu’s hunger for strength had completely overtaken his desire for money. Tallying up his energy cores left him rather disheartened, and his longing to get to the front lines for combat bonuses and a promotion only grew more desperate.

“It’d be even better if I could go out and hunt Wipers... I’m probably not strong enough yet, though. I’d get myself killed.”

After mulling it over, Han Qingyu pulled out his parents’ letter and read it one more time before carefully tucking it back into the cover. Closing his notebook, he hid both it and the pen under a layer of clothes in his locker, then washed up and got into bed.

The others in the room were still chattering about random topics like female soldiers, maneuvering devices, whether it was really possible to jump during combat, and so on. Now and then, someone would badger Han Qingyu about his blunt refusal of Mira’s money again, saying that he could’ve at least accepted the gesture, even if he didn’t want the money.

Han Qingyu didn’t respond to the nagging, nor did he dwell on it either. He lay quietly on his bed with his hands behind his head, absorbed in his own thoughts.

My edge, aside from my integration level being a mystery, mostly comes down to being able to absorb those raw metal cores directly. That strengthens my body’s foundation. I can also store some liquid source energy.

The problem is, raw metal cores are extremely rare. On top of that, there’s no concrete way to measure or predict how much my body’s foundation has improved, so I don’t know when it’ll actually show meaningful results.

Besides, everyone has maneuvering devices now. The edge those raw metal cores give me isn’t that significant when everyone’s equipped. There are still plenty of people stronger than me. They could cut me down like it’s nothing.

How long would it take Qi Shantong to kill me if he was committed to it? I honestly don’t know. If it were that S-ranker... he was so fast I couldn’t even see him. It would probably take him less than a second.

The farmer’s son lay there in the dark, thinking and calculating in scattered fragments, much like his parents’ generation tallying grain and living costs year after year.

“Little Qing, you’re still awake, right?” Wen Jifei asked suddenly.

Han Qingyu snapped out of his thoughts. “Yeah.”

“Then get up and come talk. Stop playing dead. We’re in the middle of collectively condemning you over here.”

“Nah, I need to sleep early. Lao Jian wants me to go one-on-one with him at the combat simulation ground tomorrow after breakfast.”

“Woah...”