The river outside Fu Ze Village.
"One, two, three, lift."
"One, two, three, lift."
Zhang River paced back and forth along the riverbank, holding a whistle stick.
In the river, hundreds of men stood in the water, ten men each holding a waist-thick log, squatting down, lifting it up.
The river water had already risen past their waists; if they couldn't lift it up when they squatted down, they'd get water in their mouths and choke.
"Sweat more in training, bleed less in battle. Twenty more, hurry up."
Seeing someone slacking, Zhang River jumped directly onto the log being lifted by the group, almost causing them to fall into the river.
"Looks like I've been too lenient with you. Heard that while I was away, someone reported Captain Hu to Brother Mo. The training I've given is indeed too light." Zhang River stomped his foot and shouted, "Died, have you? Lift it up for me."
