Seeing everyone's reaction, the official from the Protocol Office realized what was wrong and hurried to emphasize, "An intermediate martial academy, not a lower one!"
A lower martial academy was akin to a basic martial school. Martial artists there were mostly sent to fight on the front lines, and even practitioners hailing from other nations were not spared.
An intermediate martial academy, however, included courses on command and tactical deployment, while an upper martial academy was a high-level military college that focused on grand strategy.
The Jin hostages were indeed taken by surprise. Yet even being sent to a lower martial academy would not have been entirely unsatisfactory; at the very least, it meant breaking free of their cage.
Once on the battlefield, if someone managed to fake their disappearance... wouldn't that mark an end to their hostage life?
Strictly from a practical standpoint, though, such a possibility did not exist. Doing so would be an outright humiliation of Jin.
If Liang truly dared to send the hostages to the front lines, Jin would undoubtedly reignite the war immediately.
Jin had merely lost; it had not fallen!
Martial artists at an intermediate academy had a far lower chance of going to the front lines.
Given the hostages' status, there was no chance Great Liang would help train enemy personnel in warfare.
Even if they accompanied forces to the front, landing a position like staff adviser would be nearly impossible.
It was far more likely they would merely look on from the sidelines... witnessing the might and invincibility of Liang!
Yet the idea of martial artists from an intermediate academy heading to the front lines still sounded utterly absurd.
Shi Linyuan was the first to react. In a deep voice, he spoke up, "The front lines... we cannot fight in a war between nations!"
"Naturally. It is combat against the Guizu," the Protocol Office official declared with an air of righteous dignity. "You gentlemen are, after all, noble scions of Great Jin!"
"Great Liang and Great Jin merely have brotherly squabbles, as do the other kingdoms. Only the Guizu are the common enemy of all mankind!"
"Truly worthy of Great Liang!" a middle-aged man seated at the head of the crowd remarked with a chuckle. "Such breadth of vision and magnanimity—admirable!"
This man was not part of the hostage contingent, but rather an official from the Foreign Affairs Office dispatched to Liang by Jin's Court of State Ceremonial, who had accompanied them today.
The Liang official nodded with a smile. "We hope everyone registers enthusiastically. You gentlemen are Jin's elite, and Great Liang thirsts for talent!"
Fine words, and a most proper posture! Wu Youren's heart remained completely placid: *Diplomats certainly know how to talk!*
As for "enthusiastic registration," there was no need to encourage it; one could already see the zeal among the Jin hostages!
"Thirsting for talent" was simply code for welcoming outstanding individuals to harbor treacherous ambitions and help split Jin apart as soon as possible!
How utterly dull. The ancient ascendant felt he saw right through it all.
Even so, he didn't assume everyone in politics was inherently foul—acting in their own nation's best interests was only natural.
On the contrary, he felt Shi Linyuan had gone a bit too far. "Is this what you meant when you said His Highness fought to secure a spot for me?"
Selecting thirty people from a hundred-man contingent meant a full thirty percent of them would be chosen... and you expect me to be overwhelmed with gratitude?
"And here I thought... you had grown sharper," Shi Linyuan said, his gaze carrying unmistakable contempt. "Without His Highness looking out for you, would it ever be your turn?"
Wu Youren shut his mouth decisively. Showing moderate dissatisfaction was enough; overdoing it would only backfire.
Events unfolded just as Shi Linyuan had predicted. For a hostage contingent of a hundred people, over a hundred and twenty signed up.
Unable to participate in the selection himself, the Seventeenth Prince had recommended several candidates from among his guards, book attendants, and servants.
The other hostages were merely his personal retinue; an entirely separate escort detail existed.
Two other hostages of higher status made similar moves.
In short, while recruiting into the martial academy fostered ties between the two nations, His Highness preferred to keep more hostages by his side.
Nobody lacked this instinctive self-preservation, which could also be seen as testing the waters of overstepping boundaries.
For the low-ranking hostages, however, the competition instantly turned brutal.
Some rejoiced, while others despaired.
Now that the contest had begun, Wu Youren could no longer hole up in his quarters all day. His period of recuperation had to come to an end.
The following day, he attended the morning session.
The morning session consisted of both martial and literary components. The martial aspect involved only stretching and strength conditioning.
The Liang martial instructors would not teach any combat techniques, nor would the hostages practice their own family arts.
Man guarded against tiger, and tiger guarded against man; at most, they practiced the simplest punching and kicking routines.
In truth, even during such basic drills, the hostages never pushed themselves for long—an hour at most.
Without adequate nutrition, practicing martial arts was merely depleting one's vital qi and blood, a form of slow suicide!
Wu Youren trained for about forty minutes. Feeling that his breakfast had mostly digested, he stood in a horse stance for ten minutes and called it a day.
The literary session consisted of philosophy classes, primarily preaching why Great Liang's culture was superior and how greatly it bolstered national power.
It was an outright brainwashing class. The only flaw was that Liang only knew how to brag incessantly, lacking any subtle or roundabout techniques.
Subtleties like praising through veiled critique did not exist; their philosophy was strictly "a lie repeated ten thousand times becomes truth."
Interestingly, doing well in the literary classes and placing near the top in the monthly examinations came with rewards.
It might be silver banknotes, or it might be blood food—substantial rewards clearly meant to sow discord within the hostage group.
This actually yielded results. Some leveraged it to subsidize their own needs, and not even the Seventeenth Prince's people dared confiscate such prizes.
Someone in the past had refused to believe this and tried to seize a reward by force, only to be promptly taught a harsh lesson by a Liang martial instructor.
A reward granted by Great Liang was not for people from a defeated nation to redistribute.
His predecessor, however, had never earned such rewards. It had nothing to do with personal ability, but came down to two words: not qualified!
If he dared covet those rewards, not only would he endanger himself, but his family back home would also suffer the consequences.
As the saying went, while the hostage group faced a bleak future, they were thoroughly ruthless when purging their own.
Consequently, his predecessor had essentially slacked off through these literary classes. After all, performing poorly in the monthly tests carried no punishment whatsoever.
One could even skip them entirely, though missing too many exams tended to draw unwanted scrutiny from Liang.
When the class ended, Wu Youren intentionally hung back, following the crowd outward.
Suddenly, a burly young woman approached him. "What happened with your falling into the water?"
She was also a hostage; there were five female hostages in the contingent.
Female hostages were not there to serve the Seventeenth Prince's pleasure, but rather to handle security checks and service duties for women who approached him.
Ordinary Liang women who wished to approach His Highness could be searched by male hostages.
For noblewomen of status, however, female hostages had to step in.
Yan Sanmin also hailed from a baronial house, but her family had connections inside the Great Jin royal palace.
More precisely, she was distantly related by blood to the Seventeenth Prince's birth mother.
Despite both coming from baronial households, the difference in their status within the hostage contingent was like night and day.
"I lost my footing," Wu Youren answered tepidly, harboring little affection for her.
This woman had been the nightmare of his youth, one of the hostages who had bullied him the most.
Only in the past two years had her attitude gradually softened. He knew very well why: he had grown into his looks.
Male and female hostages were permitted to marry, and even fleeting trysts were not out of the question, but... he looked down on her.
Indeed, human life could be remarkably contradictory at times.
"Speak to me properly!" Yan Sanmin snapped in annoyance. "Who was it that bullied you?"
"No one," Wu Youren said, shaking his head. "Such a trivial matter hardly warrants your concern, Sister Sanmin."
Setting aside whether he liked her or not, Yan Sanmin's status among the hostages was quite delicate.
Her relation to the Seventeenth Prince's mother was far too distant, and she came from a mere baronial lineage.
Had she not been sent to protect the prince under the consort's personal instructions, who in the hostage group would give her any face?
"Getting quite bold, aren't you?" Yan Sanmin gave a cold snort. "Seems you haven't learned your lesson yet!"
What could Wu Youren say? He could only pretend not to hear.
Two days later, the first list of ten selected candidates was posted, and Wu Youren's name was on it.
Shi Linyuan came to find him again. Without a word, Wu Youren handed over the remaining mineral drugs along with the preparation formula.
This was his predecessor's mess, and he had no desire to shoulder it. "It is a wine poison; it cannot be consumed directly, or it will mean certain death!"
"Do I need you to teach me that?" Shi Linyuan scoffed disdainfully, but a peculiar smile soon spread across his face. "Do you think being on the list makes your spot secure?"
"No," Wu Youren answered bluntly, shaking his head. "I simply believe that with my status, I am hardly worthy of you gentlemen breaking your word."
Shi Linyuan rolled his eyes, shook his head, and turned to leave. "You really have grown up."
Watching his departing figure, Wu Youren curled his lip. He placed little faith in their moral character.
Noble scions cared about their reputation and image, and being in a foreign land compelled them to band together, making them all the more mindful of decorum.
Yet only those with sufficient strength were afforded such respect. Given his standing, the possibility of betrayal was very real.
Even so, Wu Youren looked relaxed. He had finally rid himself of the trouble his predecessor had courted.
Just how scorching a mess it was could be seen from how he had transmigrated in the first place.
The issue had been that he could not simply give away the secret for free. The experiences of two lifetimes had taught him that yielding blindly would only invite further exploitation.
In other words, the most pressing crisis he faced after transmigrating had finally been safely resolved.
As for the larger problem—his identity and plight as a hostage—there was no rush to handle it immediately; at least it wasn't an imminent danger.
It was not something that anxiety could resolve. Remaining calm, parrying moves as they came, and biding his time was the way forward.
The profits from blending strong spirits were gone, but that mattered even less.
His predecessor's actions had actually reminded him: counterfeiting could also lead to fortune!
Wu Youren possessed plenty of such knowledge. At the thought, he genuinely missed the information explosion of his previous era.
Presently stuck in an enemy land, he felt not the slightest moral qualm about producing and selling counterfeit goods.
He picked up his teacup and had just taken a sip when someone walked through the door. "Youren, congratulations!"
The newcomer was Liu Jingming, grandson of a baron whose father was a matrilocal son-in-law. His status was slightly higher than Wu Youren's, but only by a hair.
Among the members of the hostage contingent, peculiar situations abounded, fully showcasing the sheer diversity of human nature.
The relationship between the two was quite ordinary; Liu Jingming simply hadn't bullied him.
"Greetings, Brother Jingming," Wu Youren stood up with a wry smile. "It's not the final roster yet. Plenty of people have ways to pull strings."
"That is precisely what I came to discuss," Liu Jingming said, getting straight to the point. "Someone wants to buy your spot."
Chapter 4