# **Chapter 4: The Punishment Squad

  The punishment squad stood in the training yard, hands bound.

  Ten men. Wei walked the line, assessing.

  A young one, maybe nineteen, with bruises on his face. Caught stealing food. Desperate, not malicious.

  An older veteran with dead eyes. Ran from his post during a raid. The eyes said he'd run again.

  A stocky one with scarred knuckles. Brawler. Kept looking at Wei like he was measuring angles.

  Three more thieves. Two deserters. One who'd struck an officer and somehow avoided execution.

  "Untie them," Wei said.

  The guards looked at Yao. The garrison commander nodded.

  Ropes fell away. The men rubbed their wrists, wary.

  Wei walked to the center of the yard. "I'm Officer Wei. You're my squad now. For the next three days, you follow my orders without question. At the end of three days, you'll demonstrate basic competence in front of Captain Yao. If you pass, you return to active duty. If you fail, you go back to the cells."

  The brawler spat. "And if we don't want to be your squad?"

  Wei looked at him. "Then sit down. Right now. I'll tell Captain Yao you're not worth the effort."

  The brawler held Wei's gaze, calculating. Finally, he shook his head. "I'll stand."

  "Good." Wei gestured to the weapons rack against the wall—spears, swords, a few crossbows. "Each of you, take a spear. Line up by height."

  They moved slowly, still testing him. Wei let them. Speed would come later.

  Once they were lined up—rough, uneven, but recognizably a formation—Wei stepped back.

  "First lesson: spacing. Right now, you're standing too close. When cavalry charges, you'll tangle up and die. Spread out. Arm's length between you."

  They adjusted. The young thief moved too far. Wei stepped in, moved him back three inches. "Arm's length. Not guess. Measure."

  For the next hour, Wei drilled them on spacing. Just spacing. Move forward, maintain distance. Move left, maintain distance. Turn, maintain distance.

  The brawler lost patience. "This is basics. We know this."

  "You know it wrong." Wei tapped the man's chest with two fingers. "Your spacing collapsed four times in the last ten minutes. That means when pressure hits, you bunch up. That means you die. So we drill it until you don't."

  By the second hour, they were maintaining spacing. Not perfect, but functional.

  Wei called a halt. They were breathing hard, sweating despite the cool air.

  "Rest. Drink water. We resume in ten minutes."

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  The young thief sat heavily. "That's all we're doing? Spacing?"

  "That's all we're doing today." Wei sat on a stone step, watching them. "Tomorrow, we add forward movement. Day three, we add weapons technique. Three days isn't enough to make you good. It's enough to make you not-terrible."

  The veteran with dead eyes spoke for the first time. "What happens after the demonstration?"

  "Depends. You stay competent, you might live through the next raid."

  "And if we don't?"

  Wei met his gaze. "Then you won't."

  The veteran nodded slowly, as if Wei had confirmed something he already knew.

  They drilled until dusk. Spacing, movement, basic commands. Wei kept it simple, kept it repetitive, kept it focused.

  When he dismissed them, the brawler approached.

  "You actually think three days of this will make us functional?"

  "No," Wei said. "Three days will make you look functional during a demonstration. Becoming actually functional takes longer. But looking functional is enough to keep you alive for now."

  The brawler almost smiled. "Practical."

  "That's all I've got."

  ---

  Day two.

  Wei added forward movement. The squad moved in formation, maintaining spacing, responding to commands.

  They were terrible at first. Colliding, breaking spacing, turning wrong directions.

  Wei corrected without anger. "Again. Slower. Count your steps."

  The young thief stumbled, nearly fell. The veteran caught him without thinking—good instinct.

  "Better," Wei said. "Again."

  By midday, they could move forward fifty paces without collapsing formation. Wei added turning maneuvers.

  Captain Yao appeared at the edge of the yard, watching. He said nothing, just observed for ten minutes, then left.

  The brawler noticed. "He's checking if you're wasting time."

  "He's checking if you're worth keeping." Wei raised his voice. "Break for water. Ten minutes."

  They collapsed in the shade. Wei sat apart, watching them. They were starting to function as a unit—small things, unconscious cooperation. The veteran helping the young one without being asked. The thieves working together to adjust spacing.

  Three days wasn't enough to build loyalty. But it was enough to build habit.

  The veteran approached. "I need to tell you something."

  Wei waited.

  "I ran at that raid because my officer panicked. Gave contradictory orders, broke formation himself. I had two choices—follow him into chaos or break for cover." The veteran's jaw worked. "I chose cover. Court-martial didn't care about the context."

  "Why tell me this?"

  "Because you're training us like we matter. Like we're not just punishment detail." The veteran's eyes were still dead, but there was something else now. A flicker. "Wanted you to know I didn't run because I'm a coward. I ran because my commander was incompetent."

  Wei considered this. "The why doesn't matter for the demonstration. But it might matter after. Stay functional, we'll see."

  The veteran nodded and walked back to the group.

  Day three.

  Wei added weapons technique. Not complex—just basic spear work. Thrust, recover, maintain formation.

  The squad moved through the drills with mechanical precision. Not skilled, but disciplined.

  At noon, Captain Yao arrived with three other officers.

  "Demonstration time."

  Wei's squad formed up without prompting. Spacing perfect, weapons ready.

  "Forward march!" Wei called.

  They moved as one. Fifty paces, maintaining formation.

  "Right turn!"

  Clean pivot. No collisions.

  "Form defensive square!"

  They executed. Not fast, but correct.

  Yao walked around the formation, studying it. Then he nodded to Wei. "Dismissed."

  The squad held formation until Wei gave the signal. Then they broke, standing at ease.

  Yao approached Wei, voice low. "Three days. You turned punishment detail into a functional squad."

  "They did the work. I just gave them structure."

  "Most officers would have beaten them into submission."

  "Beating doesn't create competence. Just fear." Wei watched his squad. "They needed discipline and clear expectations. That's all."

  Yao smiled slightly. "You just became a training officer. Congratulations."

  Wei felt the trap close. "I didn't ask for that."

  "No officer asks for anything in this garrison. We all end up where we're useful." Yao turned to leave, then paused. "Inspector Liu arrives tomorrow. He'll want to talk to you about your methods."

  "Inspector?"

  "Ministry official. Here to evaluate readiness." Yao's expression was carefully neutral. "Be careful what you show him. Innovation attracts attention. Attention attracts politics."

  He walked away, leaving Wei with his newly functional squad and the growing sense that surviving Oirat territory had been simpler than surviving the bureaucracy.

  ---

  **End of Chapter 4**