Dream of the Red Chamber: From a Border Ruffian to a Capital Tyrant

Two days passed in the blink of an eye.

On this day, just as dawn was breaking, Jia Lang appeared on the training ground as usual without fail.

He took the lead, guiding his soldiers through the most tedious and brutal physical training.

Sweat had already soaked through his heavy clothes, but his iron-like body remained upright, without ever slacking off.

This happens every single day of the year, 365 days a year.

In the morning, he shares weal and woe with the soldiers in the barracks, and in the afternoon, he returns to his small courtyard to hone his martial arts skills and train his elite personal guard.

After all, as a "miserable" transmigrator without a system, Jia Lang's extraordinary martial arts skills were earned by risking his life on the battlefield, and were honed through countless days and nights of blood and sweat.

"Sweat more in peacetime, bleed less in wartime!"

Jia Lang had shouted those words countless times at his bunch of rascals; they were ingrained in their very bones.

Dragging his heavy steps back to the courtyard, he found that the guards who had stayed behind had already prepared a steaming hot meal.

In this border region where resources are scarce, even a simple dish of boiled vegetables with several large pots of stewed mutton is a top-notch delicacy that is enough to make one's mouth water.

Jia Lang strode confidently to the stone table, plopped down, and stared at the table full of large bowls and basins, his eyes gleaming.

"What are you all standing there for? Sit down! You'll need to eat your fill to have the strength to fight!"

Jia Lang raised his hand and waved it, his voice booming like a bell.

"yes!"

The guards responded in unison, and only then did they dare to sit down cautiously.

Back then, which of these proud and fierce soldiers who had just been selected as personal guards wasn't terrified by Jia Lang's "disrespectful" style?

In this era that emphasized hierarchy and strict social order, the idea of ​​masters and servants dining together was simply a fantasy.

But the soul inside Jia Lang's body comes from a modern society where everyone is equal.

History has proven countless times that only by sharing meals and lodging with soldiers can one truly win their hearts and minds and earn their unwavering loyalty!

This continued for several months, and from the initial fear and trepidation to the current routine, even in the hearts of every guard, it transformed into a deep fervor and emotion for this young general.

At this moment, apart from the unlucky fellow Li Tiedan, who was still on Jia Lang's mind, all the other guards were present.

These guards were all elites who had crawled out of piles of corpses. Although they were not as burly as Jia Lang, who was like a demon god, they were still far superior to ordinary people. Each of them was like a small tower made of refined iron, and their fierce aura was overwhelming.

At the dinner table, the wind whipped up the remaining clouds.

Twenty strong men ate with the spirit of a hundred, their appetites more than twice that of ordinary soldiers.

However, when everyone else put down their bowls and chopsticks, burped, and looked up, their own general was still there, head down, eating heartily!

That huge bowl of rice mixed with meat broth was poured into Jia Lang's stomach as if it were a bottomless pit.

"General's appetite...it's truly astonishing!"

The guards looked at each other, their eyes filled not with disgust, but with awe and admiration.

In the military, being able to eat well is a blessing, and it's also a synonym for strength!

A large appetite signifies a strong foundation, great strength, and the ability to take the head of a general amidst a vast army!

Jia Lang was undoubtedly a fierce general who was a killing god, and a useless fighter among useless generals.

In fact, when Jia Lang first transmigrated, although he had a large appetite, it was not to such an astonishing degree.

However, as time went by, this body seemed to unlock some kind of genetic lock. Its appetite increased day by day, its strength increased exponentially, and its height also increased to more than two meters. However, its body did not become bloated. Instead, it became more and more agile and powerful.

This is why he had the confidence to empty his family's savings to join the army.

Although Jia Lang had doubts about this mutation, he ultimately attributed it to the benefits brought by time travel.

After all, who would refuse a body with superhuman strength?

Now, he doesn't even know where his limits are.

He could draw the twelve-stone bow specially made for the army with ease, as if it were a full moon, even though others couldn't draw it.

As for weapons... well, that's a long story...

Fifteen minutes later, with the last grain of rice gone, Jia Lang reluctantly put down the large bowl, wiped his mouth, picked up the cool boiled water and gulped it down, letting out a satisfied burp.

"Let's leave! Rest for an incense stick's time, then assemble at the training ground!"

"yes!"

The guards skillfully cleaned up the mess and then followed Jia Lang to the training ground.

This was also Jia Lang's habit, which he euphemistically called:

"A hundred steps after a meal, and you'll live to ninety-nine."

Although the guards thought their general's words were pure nonsense.

After all, living past 55 is considered a long life these days, but that doesn't stop them from blindly following the trend.

After all, who wouldn't want to benefit from the general's influence and live a few more years?

The time it takes for an incense stick to burn passes in the blink of an eye.

Without Jia Lang's prompting, the twenty guards automatically lined up and began practicing a strange set of movements.

This is not the traditional bayonet and shield training in the military camp, but a "simplified drill manual" that includes high knees in place, push-ups, and orderly formation responses.

This is a special training method that Jia Lang refined by combining his memories from his previous life and simplifying the complexities.

Though simple, its effectiveness is terrifying!

Unfortunately, when Jia Lang excitedly presented this method to General Jia Ren, he was met with a scathing rebuke from the fatherly Jia Ren, who bluntly called it "showy but ineffective" and "childish," and strictly forbade its promotion in the army.

Even when Jia Lang's personal guards later displayed astonishing physical strength and teamwork, taking on ten opponents single-handedly on the battlefield, Jia Ren simply attributed it to the inherent bravery of these burly men, completely ignoring the changes in training methods.

After all, in the eyes of ordinary people, isn't it only natural that twenty giants can defeat a group of ordinary soldiers?

The matter was thus left unresolved.

But Jia Lang was not discouraged; his eyes gleamed with ambition.

It doesn't matter if Lao Jia doesn't understand. When I lead an army on my own one day, I will definitely show the world what a real "Iron Army" is!

After an hour of sparring instruction, Jia Lang prepared to begin his own "extra training."

He stretched his neck, making a series of crackling sounds like popping beans, and then strode towards the weapon rack in the corner.

There, a lone, rugged, all-black long-handled iron hammer was stuck in the ground.

This is a "divine weapon" specially made by his military craftsmen.

In fact, Jia Lang's original dream was to wield a halberd, wear a battle robe adorned with a hundred flowers, and become a peerless hero like Lü Bu.

Unfortunately, ideals are often grand, but reality is often harsh.

Aside from his brute strength, he knew absolutely nothing about the techniques of halberd fighting.

In his previous life, he was just an ordinary young man. After transmigrating, he learned some skills, half of which were battlefield killing techniques taught by Jia Ren, and the other half were unorthodox methods pieced together from other officers.

If you can't master technique, then master strength!

With great force, bricks fly; with one ounce of strength, ten techniques are overcome!

In this era of cold weapons, as long as you are strong enough, even a fire poker can smash the skull of an enemy general!