After a broken heart, I traveled through time and space and became an abandoned concubine. My fate i

Chapter 124 The Difficulty of Initial Training

The afternoon sun pierced the clouds like a thousand golden arrows, scorching the earth with fury. The entire barracks felt like it had been thrust into a blazing furnace. The air seemed to be distorted by the burning heat, and the stifling heat felt like steaming people instantly. Dust danced wildly within the barracks, flying recklessly like a thick, suffocating yellow curtain.

The newly selected female recruits stood timidly yet full of anticipation on the training ground. Most of them came from the countryside, their daily tasks consisting of menial needlework and heavy household chores. Their delicate hands had never grasped cold weapons, their lithe and supple figures had never endured the rigors of military training. Their figures were petite and fragile, their slender arms like willow branches, vulnerable to the slightest force. Their light steps seemed limp and feeble in the face of the heavy training, like flowers swaying in a strong wind.

At the outset of training, the instructors shouted commands at the top of their lungs, their voices piercing the scorching air. But the recruits were as bewildered and lost as headless flies, their eyes filled with panic and confusion. As they ran, their delicate bodies trembled violently under the scorching sun. Every step felt like dragging a heavy burden, leaving them panting and sweat pouring down like rain. Their strides, which should have been as light as a swallow's, now felt heavy and stumbling. Many even stumbled mid-run, scraping their knees and elbows, their blood and sweat mingling, yet they gritted their teeth and continued running.

As the procession progressed, the ranks were lopsided and uneven. They tried to straighten their fragile backs, but it was always difficult to maintain alignment. Every adjustment was accompanied by a labored gasp, their shoulders struggling to resist inertia, seemingly unable to do so. Their pretty faces, flushed with effort, their brows furrowed, their eyes revealing stubbornness and unyielding determination.

When shooting, his arms trembled terribly, the bowstring was difficult to draw fully, and the arrows shot out weakly, either falling midway or missing the target. The fingers that gripped the bowstring turned white from excessive force, and the lips, tightly pursed in frustration, trembled slightly.

The training progressed at a snail's pace, gradually wearing out the already anxious instructors' patience. Their scolding grew increasingly sharp and piercing, like thunderclaps exploding in the recruits' ears. Their stern gazes seemed to penetrate their very souls, filling them with fear and self-blame. Yet, the female recruits, tears welling in their eyes, bit their lips and persevered. Beneath their slightly trembling bodies, lay resolute hearts.

But as time went by, in the face of repeated setbacks and failures, Concubine Su's encouragement was like a clear and sweet spring, slowly flowing into their dry hearts.

"Sisters, we shoulder the expectations of our country and the trust of the people. As long as we persevere, we will surely become brave warriors defending our homeland!"

Concubine Su's words took root in their hearts, and gradually, these women began to consciously and consciously demand stricter standards of themselves. They no longer retreated because of weakness, and no longer cried when faced with difficulties. Every night, as the moonlight streamed down the tents, they would silently reflect on their day's training and reflect on their shortcomings.

Even when their steps felt like lead and every breath ripped their chests apart, they never stopped. Thinking of their families' hopes and the safety of their country, their steps grew more resolute.

As they marched, they maintained their alignment, even if their backs ached and their feet blistered. Their focused eyes seemed to be engraving the entire procession in their minds.

When shooting arrows, one draws the bow again and again, even if their arms ache and become numb, even if their fingers are deeply bruised by the bowstring, they still strive to hit the target. The gaze fixed on the bull's eye is filled with determination and courage.

From their initial weakness and helplessness, facing the challenges of training and restraint, to their subsequent self-motivation and rigorous training, they have written their own legends with tenacity and perseverance. Every drop of sweat, every moment of perseverance, bears witness to their growth.