A few days after Hu Yanzhen's baptism of fire, a deceptive calm descended on the training field. Today was He Xiang's domain. The shooting range stretched out under the morning sun, paper targets standing in neat rows, waiting to be shot. The air smelled faintly of gunpowder, dried grass, and gun oil.
He Xiang walked along the line of cadets with calm authority. Unlike Hu Yanzhen who relied on intimidation, or Lee Junshan who relied on intellect, He Xiang's strength lay in his undeniable competence.
"A gun is not just a piece of wood and steel," he said, his voice clear and steady, loud enough for all to hear without needing to shout. "It is an extension of your will. Your breath is its support. Your heartbeat is its rhythm. Don't fight it. Cooperate with it."
He took a Lee-Enfield rifle from the rack, the standard issue rifle supplied by the British and used by China's elite units. In one fluid, practiced movement, he assumed his firing position. The cadets, some of whom were still skeptical, watched in silence. He was in no hurry. He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and in the pause between the exhale and the next inhale, his finger gently squeezed the trigger.
CRACK!
The sharp sound of a gunshot echoed. In the distance, a perfect small hole appeared right in the center of the black circle of the target. He operated the rifle bolt quickly but smoothly, ejected the empty shell, and returned to the ready position.
"That was harmony," he said. "Not brute force."
For the next hour, he guided them patiently. He corrected their posture, corrected the way they held the rifle, and reminded them to breathe. Gradually, the skepticism in the cadets' eyes began to be replaced by respect. Even Jin Wuyou, though still reluctant, had to admit that He Xiang's instructions had made his aim more stable. He Xiang felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could break through this wall of prejudice.
"Alright, everyone," He Xiang announced after the basic training session. "Now we will try rapid fire training. Five bullets, one target. I want to see speed and accuracy. First squad, ready!"
The five cadets in the front row took up their positions. Among them was Jin Wuyou.
"Ready... Aim... Fire!"
The first four shots rang out almost simultaneously. But from Jin Wuyou's direction, what was heard was not a sharp bang, but a dull, hollow click. He cursed under his breath, roughly operating the bolt of his rifle, but the mechanism jammed.
At almost the same time, two other cadets in the same squad also experienced problems. One rifle was emitting smoke from the trigger chamber, and the other jammed completely after the first shot.
A small chaos broke out. The jammed cadets looked frustrated and confused. Jin Wuyou threw his rifle to the ground angrily. "Junk equipment!"
"Get your rifle, Cadet!" He Xiang's voice cut through the commotion, sharp as broken glass.
At that moment, Jin Wuyou looked at him with a sinister smile. "Perhaps his equipment is as unreliable as some of the new instructors, Lieutenant He."
The insult was so open, so public, that the air seemed to freeze. All eyes were on He Xiang, waiting for his reaction. This was a critical test of his authority.
He Xiang was not offended. He was not angry. His face hardened into a mask of cold professionalism. "Ceasefire!" he ordered, his voice reverberating with surprising power. "All weapons on the ground and retreat three steps!"
The order was so firm that it was obeyed instantly, even by Jin Wuyou.
He Xiang walked down the line, his sharp eyes scanning every weapon and every face. He stopped in front of Jin Wuyou, ignoring his smug stare, and picked up the jammed rifle from the ground. With the composure of a surgeon, he removed its magazine and checked the trigger.
"This is not a random failure," he said quietly, but his voice was heard by everyone around him. He then turned to the other two faulty rifles and performed the same quick check. The pattern was the same.
He returned to the center of the line, holding one of the broken rifles. "This is sabotage."
The statement shocked the cadets.
Before their eyes, He Xiang began to disassemble the bolt assembly of the rifle with a small multi-function tool that was always in his pocket. His movements were fast and sure, showing a deep familiarity with the mechanism of the weapon.
In less than a minute, he had the bolt out.
"Look at this," he said, showing the bolt to the nearby cadets. "This mechanism should be lubricated with a thin, clean gun oil. But this… this is coated with a thick, sticky grease."
He rubbed a bit of the substance on his finger. "This grease will work fine at normal temperatures. But once the gun is fired and the barrel heats up, the grease melts and becomes sticky like glue, causing the mechanism to jam completely. Someone deliberately lubricated these guns with the wrong substance."
He stared straight at Jin Wuyou, his eyes cold as steel. "So, Cadet Jin, the problem isn't with the instructors or the standard equipment. The problem is that there's a coward in this academy who not only tries to embarrass the instructors, but is also willing to endanger the lives of his own comrades for their own petty goals."
Jin Wuyou's face drained of color. He was speechless. He hadn't just defended himself; he had turned the attack around, proven his competence, and exposed a much greater threat. A grudging respect was now visible in the eyes of many of the cadets. They had just witnessed true calm under pressure.
That night, the atmosphere in the trio's office was heavy. Three sabotaged rifles lay on a large table in the center of the room, disassembled into pieces. The flickering light of an oil lamp reflected the strange sheen of the sticky grease that clung to the metal components.
"I'll drag that armorer in here and make him swallow this grease!" Hu Yanzhen growled, pacing like a trapped tiger. His anger was burning, especially since the sabotage had taken place under He Xiang's watch. It felt like a personal attack. "They put you in danger, Xiang Xiang!"
"Anger won't give us an answer, Yanzhen," Lee Junshan said calmly, though his eyes that scanned each component showed a cold intensity. "This was well planned. The perpetrators knew which rifles the first squad would use. They knew this grease would work like a slow-acting poison. This wasn't the work of an angry amateur."
He Xiang, who had been quiet all this time, picked up one of the dirty bolts. He didn't just look at it; he smelled it. "This isn't just any grease," he said softly, his mind working. "This isn't gun oil… it smells like factory grease. Heavy, industrial. Not something you'd find easily in an armory."
Lee Junshan stared at her, a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. "You always see details we miss, Xiang Xiang."
She was right. While Hu Yanzhen saw physical threats and Lee Junshan saw strategic patterns, He Xiang saw forensic evidence.
Hu Yanzhen stopped pacing. He saw the way Lee Junshan was looking at He Xiang, and how He Xiang's discovery had changed the entire course of their investigation. His burning anger subsided a little, replaced by a cold, protective determination. He couldn't solve this with his fists, so he had to use his brain, as Lee Junshan always did.
"So, someone had to have smuggled this grease into the armory," Hu Yanzhen said, his tone more restrained. "Or someone from the armory had access to the academy's workshop or garage."
"Exactly," Lee Junshan said, taking over. "That gives us a starting point. I'll check the shop's inventory records and vehicle maintenance schedules for the past week. Look for any anomalies, no matter how small." He turned to Hu Yanzhen. "You, Yanzhen, keep an eye on the armory staff. Don't do anything conspicuous. Just observe. Find out who's nervous, who's acting strangely, who's suddenly got some extra money."
They both looked at He Xiang.
"And I," He Xiang said, his voice firm, "will talk to the cadets. I'll find out who's seen anything unusual near the armory in the past few days. They're our eyes and ears."
That night, in their dusty office, a shift occurred. They were no longer simply reacting to attacks. They had become a coordinated investigative team. The sabotage designed to divide and intimidate them had instead strengthened their bonds, turning them into three sides of a mutually reinforcing triangle.
Lee Junshan, the strategist, mapped out the web of conspiracies. Hu Yanzhen, the soldier, was the field supervisor. And He Xiang, the astute mediator, becomes the link that finds the first clue.
Amidst hidden threats, among whispers and sabotage, they discover their strength not as individuals, but as one. Their secret war to reclaim the soul of the Eternal Flame Academy has entered a dangerous new phase.