The director saw their confused faces and came out to explain: the training location has been changed at the last minute. It won’t be at the military training ground, but a specialized facility.
Zara Chapman voiced her dissatisfaction: "Director, the contract says..."
The director seemed to have anticipated this, smiling as he replied, "Miss Chapman, the contract clearly states that regarding training matters, you must obey the instructor. No problem with that, right?"
Zara Chapman: "..."
Despite having an agent, Zara Chapman had thoroughly studied the contract herself; she remembered this clause. If you entered the training site, you had to listen to the instructor, which made sense. She’d thought putting it in writing was just like specifying in a deal that action scenes couldn’t use stunt doubles—so the female artists wouldn’t want to sunbathe and the instructor would arrange for indoor training? Turns out, not quite.
It made sense in theory, but she hadn’t expected it to be used this way.
Renee Morgan looked at the director grinning slyly, then glanced at the frowning Zara Chapman, picked up her luggage, and followed the instructor.
Whatever the situation, the contract was signed, and she was here; since she’d come, she’d settle in. She never thought joining a show would make her an instant star. She always remembered her battlefield was on screen, just hoped this time would change the outcome of her recurring dream—and wouldn’t affect her career.
Wendy Aldridge watched Renee Morgan take the lead, glanced at the conflicted Zara Chapman, and, biting her lip, followed after.
Right now, Renee’s popularity was higher than Zara Chapman’s. So following Renee was definitely the right choice.
Renee Morgan had just sat down in her seat when Wendy Aldridge squeezed in, telling her to move over and making some space for herself.
Renee Morgan was baffled—when did Wendy cling to her like this?
Seeing the PD guy with his camera, Renee Morgan ultimately said nothing, scooted over, and gave Wendy some room.
Lynn Miller was a step slower and got the front passenger seat; Zara Chapman boarded another car.
The PD guy sat in the back, primarily pointing the camera at Renee Morgan, secondarily at Wendy Aldridge.
Wendy Aldridge gazed at the foreign scenery and exclaimed, "Renee, the sky here is stunning! I really want to go out and sunbathe."
Renee Morgan lifted her eyes and looked at her: "I’m sure the instructor will grant your wish pretty soon."
Wendy Aldridge: ???
Wendy would soon find out what Renee meant—after their car stopped, the instructor told them to walk three kilometers to the training facility.
Wendy Aldridge looked at the open, empty ground with not a single building, then looked up at the blazing sun, thinking she must have misheard.
Zara Chapman, looking pale, spoke up: "Instructor, why aren’t we going straight to the destination by car?"
The instructor looked at her—rarely explaining: "This is a special territory; only our vehicles can access it. The cars the production team rented can’t get through."
Everyone looked the way he pointed. They’d originally prepared three cars for pickup, but since the production crew brought lots of equipment, three cars couldn’t fit everyone, so they’d rented two more.
In theory, the female members of the team should take the car straight to the training site. But the instructor felt the PD crew lugging cameras was more exhausted; might as well let the staff ride in, and let the eight teammates treat it as an early training session.
"..."
Watching the production staff get in the cars, trailing slowly after them, the eight teammates felt despair, but since the cameras were rolling, they could only grit their teeth and run onwards.
Three kilometers is not far, but not close either. Under the scorching sun, you can’t stand it even for a second.
Even the male teammates looked distressed. They all usually worked out, but it was always indoors. Under this sun, even their skin couldn’t tolerate it.
The instructor saw the situation, told the squad leader to run ahead, shout "One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight, two-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight," and urge everyone to keep pace.
"..."
The result was instant—everyone got competitive and started running.
When the instructor silently sighed in relief, the group slowed down again, and one, two, three... started falling behind, hands on knees, panting: "Instructor, the sun’s killing me, I’m about to turn into beef jerky."
The others couldn’t help laughing, but all complained about the sun.
The instructor frowned and didn’t laugh, nor did he speak. When everyone sensed the atmosphere was off and dared not even breathe, he raised his hand and pointed at the lone slim figure on the plain: "See that? Your teammate, Renee Morgan, is still going. So why are you stopping?"
Clearly, those words were for the four male teammates—they couldn’t handle the heat, so if they gave up, it showed their incompetence, not that the environment was impossible.
The four quickly caught the hint, blushing as they rushed ahead.
Leaving Zara Chapman and Wendy Aldridge behind.
Zara Chapman, no matter what, refused to run anymore. She thought of staying in the car; this heat was just too much for her.
"Instructor, instructor, can I apply for a break? I really can’t do this—I’m about to faint." Zara knew she had no reason to stop, but running with everyone clearly wasn’t going to work; her body couldn’t take it, but asking for a rest was legitimate.
Sure enough, seeing her looking about to collapse, the instructor let her get in the car, drink some water, and take a break.
Wendy Aldridge was not the same as Zara Chapman—she really wanted to catch up to Renee Morgan, but the allergic toxins in her body hadn’t fully faded yet. The sun made everything burn and hurt, so she had to request a break.
The instructor checked on her and didn’t push her further, asked if she had medicine, confirmed there was some in the car, and let her go rest as well.
After Wendy Aldridge got in the car, she kept blaming herself for slowing everyone down because of her condition.
In situations like this, the self-proclaimed "girl-evaluation experts" in the livestream commented:
[Didn’t they say they could go back to normal training without holding everyone back? Now they can’t handle it, so how are they going to participate in the next round of training?]
[I feel like the show still isn’t strict enough. Anyone with some illness gets special treatment—wasn’t the whole point of training to tough it out? How can everyone embody that spirit if some keep getting exceptions?]
[I kind of liked Wendy Aldridge’s gentle-girl persona, but now I don’t care. Women are weaker, so if she’s sick and can’t keep up, I get it. But if she decided to rejoin the team, showing weakness at the training site just makes people annoyed.]
[...]
A few commenters felt bad for Wendy Aldridge—but not many.
The director had been watching the livestream. The questions from the viewers immediately gave him an idea for a solution.
Maybe they could use a points deduction and bonus system.
Once inspired, the director hurriedly gathered his top assistants and told them to make a plan—soon he’d have to take that plan to the instructor.
The staff: "..."
One word from the boss, and now they have to run around like mad dogs and overworked horses.
It’s tough being a worker.