The convoy passed smoothly through the gate. The director got out first with the crew, looking at Renee Morgan with a particularly amiable expression.
Renee Morgan: ???
No need to retrieve suitcases for now—they’re heading to meet their new instructor.
Renee and the other team members followed a soldier, who led the show crew to their new instructor.
Word was their instructor was kind of a big deal, had scored incredible results in international training competitions—a certified special forces officer.
The summer sun was brutal; by the time everyone reached their destination on foot, they were sweating buckets.
The PD big bro seemed to have a hidden function—only the seven team members remained standing on the open ground.
Soon, troops arrived, neat and disciplined, inspiring awe.
First squad, second squad, third squad...
The seven team members surrounded in the middle gaped at the organized formations all around them.
Before they could even frame a question, whistles blared, swirling sounds surrounded them, fierce wind whipped their faces, and Lynn Miller gasped. Turns out, helicopters were circling overhead, seemingly preparing to land.
Renee Morgan had tied a high ponytail, hair tight to her scalp—a style that not only tested hair thickness but also looks, and she clearly excelled in both. Standing under the helicopter, she looked even more stunning than a K-drama heroine.
The million viewers in the livestream could finally see Morgan’s true face, and the chat overflowed with gasps, praise, and skepticism.
Some wondered how Renee Morgan could suddenly go viral—"must be some capital working behind the scenes; otherwise how could a complete nobody explode on a zero-promo variety show and become a national sensation in half a day?"
[She’s pretty, alright, but girls like her are a dime a dozen online, nothing special. I don’t get why she’s blowing up?]
[Did anyone notice there are six small cams and one big cam in the livestream? By fairness, the big cam should rotate between the seven members, by seniority, Zara Chapman and Miles Yates deserve the main shot. But the big cam’s always locked on Renee Morgan, even the Oscar-winner and top actress have to play backup. The production team’s bias couldn’t be more obvious.]
[Exactly! Aren’t these supposed to be showbiz newbies? Even international stars would step aside with this setup.]
[Morgan’s the hot topic right now—who else should get the main cam? The production crew aren’t idiots.]
[...]
The online debate was fierce, but when the crew used this batch of photos as promo shots, lightning-fast netizens all saved them.
Facing the wild wind, Renee reached out to block the blinding sun, finally able to see the helicopters closing in.
One bold team member already exclaimed, "So cool, so cool! Look at his sunglasses—way cooler than any celebrity."
Renee totally agreed—the aura military guys exuded was something stars just couldn’t imitate. You could only feel it firsthand.
Lynn Miller chimed in, "He’s so handsome! Ahhh—Morgan, Morgan, he’s looking at me, he’s walking toward me, oh my god, am I dreaming..."
Renee: "..." Seriously, just scream, why drag my name in?
Surrounded by stares, Renee took a deep breath, secretly pinched Lynn and whispered, "Ms. Miller, he’s not yours!"
Lynn let out a sigh, clutching her wrist, "Guess it’s true—all the hotties get handed over to the country."
Renee smiled, lifting her gaze to the man who’d already come face-to-face. He took off his sunglasses—tall and lean in the dark green uniform, power radiating off him, his presence almost intimidating.
Renee didn’t even really get a look at his face. She vaguely remembered a pair of starry eyes like the sea; when they fixed on her, there was a reassuring steadiness, strength, and warmth.
The group only stopped in front of them for a few seconds before moving on.
The squads all departed, apparently just here to welcome those few officers.
"Morgan, Morgan... what are you thinking? Wasn’t that officer handsome just now?" Lynn remembered seeing his rank and changed her wording.
Handsome?
Renee hadn’t looked closely, so she shook her head.
"Your standards are unreal! He’s hotter than Miles..." Lynn exclaimed, tugging Renee’s arm, pointing toward Miles Yates, hinting, "So what does count as handsome to you?"
Renee saw people approaching and guessed they were probably their instructor and squad leader, quickly saying, "Knock it off."
Three people arrived, all in dark green uniforms, faces serious.
The instructor was in the middle, flanked by the squad leaders—one for the men’s group, one for the women’s. The squad leaders were also team members, and if anything went wrong, they’d be responsible for leading.
Renee quietly sized up the three soldiers in front of her, and upon hearing their names—just like her dream—she silently breathed a sigh of relief.
Looks like the tracks stayed the same; the road and the destination hadn’t changed, only the passengers hopped on and off—some got off midway, some boarded partway. In any case, everyone’s end point was their own choice.
The instructor’s gaze was so strict, Lynn Miller didn’t dare make a peep anymore.
The instructor’s eyes swept over them, finally landing on Zara Chapman, and he spoke coldly, "Take off your cap."
Zara froze, looking conflicted. "Instructor, the sun’s really harsh; I’ll take it off when we’re inside."
The instructor stood hands at his sides, eyes chilling, "Orders in the troops are absolute. Remove your cap."
Everyone’s eyes drilled into her, and Zara was mortified. "I... can’t, I’ll get heatstroke."
The instructor said nothing, his face dark and the atmosphere oppressive—even viewers watching through the screen felt it.
In the end, Zara’s eyes went red, but she took off her cap.
The instructor’s icy gaze continued, "Can you even run in those clothes?"
Zara looked at him in disbelief, "But we just got here—do we have to run already?"
"Didn’t you know where you were coming and what you’d do before arriving?" the instructor replied coldly.
"Then can I go back and change?" Zara really couldn’t take any more embarrassment.
"We’re running back to the dorm. What, you want us all to wait while you stroll there?" The instructor’s words were razor sharp.
This time, Zara genuinely broke down crying.
Renee sensed Lynn Miller stirring next to her. Well, what did she expect—a friendly reminder to dress properly was ignored, so now being embarrassed, no one would feel sorry.
After running to the dorm, Lynn came up, "Morgan, did you already know this would happen?" That’s why you reminded her about her loose shoelaces, just to avoid a run-in between her and Zara.