The students of the News Department moved quickly.
Unlike Thirty-Two Middle School—where students focused on fundamentals and spent most of their days seated in classrooms—the Advanced Vocational Technical School emphasized hands-on practice. Learning meant doing. From the moment they enrolled, students were constantly dispatched to real posts.
The nine girls of the News Department spent their days sprinting across Gao Family Village, hauling carts stacked with "miniature cameras," filming everything worth recording.
At first, their footage was disastrous.
Shaky frames.
Blurry shots.
Angles that made viewers dizzy after three breaths.
But day by day, through endless practice, their hands steadied. Their framing improved. Their sense of composition sharpened. What once looked like a drunk chicken flapping through the lens slowly began to resemble real news footage.
Next came editing and voice-over training.
They uploaded their footage to tablet computers, propped them up on makeshift stands, and huddled around the screens, carefully cutting clips, adding text, and recording narration.
The overwhelming power of the Immortal Treasure Mirrors left them awestruck.
Of course, learning wasn't easy.
Fortunately, Dao Xuan Tianzun himself was teaching this class.
With him watching, no one dared slack off even slightly. Every explanation was listened to with rapt attention, every instruction memorized down to the smallest detail.
After only a few days, the news segments produced by the girls were already polished enough to be seamlessly inserted into the Gao Family Village News Broadcast.
Seeing this progress, Li Daoxuan immediately made arrangements.
He assigned nine elite escort teams, one for each student, and sent them off—each carrying a "miniature camera"—to important regions under Gao Family Village's control.
Among them, the top student of the News Department—a former famed courtesan—volunteered for the most dangerous destination of all:
Datong Prefecture.
She wished to head north, to the borderlands, and capture firsthand footage from the battlefield.
This was no small undertaking.
The journey was perilous, and preparation had to be meticulous.
She arrived at the entrance of Gao Family Village's main barracks, smiling at the sentry.
Her smile—graceful, practiced, devastating—hit like a gentle spring breeze.
The guard's mind went blank.
"Oh, brave soldier," she said sweetly, her voice honeyed from years in the Puzhou brothel, where a single sentence could melt stone. "I'm looking for Logistics Captain Zhuge Wangchan, the one responsible for supplying our northern troops."
The guard was instantly flustered. "Ah—yes! Of course! No problem at all! I'll inform him right away!"
He turned and bolted inside.
Moments later, Zhuge Wangchan was practically dragged out by the collar.
"What's going on?!" Zhuge Wangchan barked, thinking some major incident had occurred.
Then he looked up—
—and saw a delicate beauty standing at the gate.
His expression froze.
"Ahem," he said awkwardly. "Young lady… what business do you have with me?"
The courtesan smiled gently. "Brother Zhuge, I heard you recently returned from Daizhou."
Zhuge Wangchan straightened his back slightly. "That's right. I delivered supplies there just a few days ago."
"And," she continued softly, "you'll soon be sending another batch of ammunition to Daizhou, won't you?"
Before Zhuge Wangchan could answer, the guard blurted out eagerly, "Yes! He's heading back very soon!"
"DAMN IT!"
Zhuge Wangchan kicked the guard aside.
"Are you insane?!" he roared. "Logistics movements are military secrets! You just blurt them out to anyone with a pretty face? Report to Chen Qianhu—one week of solitary confinement!"
The guard turned pale, realizing the enormity of his mistake, and fled in shame.
Zhuge Wangchan turned back to the courtesan, his face now stern. "Why are you asking about logistics movements? State your purpose."
She was startled by the strictness and immediately curtsied. "This sister was careless. Please forgive me, Brother Zhuge. Here—my credentials."
She produced a document with both hands.
A Press Card, stamped by the Gao Family Village Committee, bearing Dao Xuan Tianzun's personal signature.
Attached was a letter of introduction written by San Shier, stating clearly:
By order of Dao Xuan Tianzun, the bearer is to accompany the logistics team to Daizhou to conduct front-line news reporting.
Zhuge Wangchan examined the seal and signature carefully.
No one in Gao Family Village would dare forge Dao Xuan Tianzun's name.
Not even a mythical nine-tailed fox demon would survive such a crime.
His expression softened. "Next time, show this immediately. Don't start with sweet talk. That poor guard just earned himself a week in confinement."
She laughed awkwardly. "Old habits… I'll be more careful."
Somewhere inside the barracks, the guard—currently being scolded by Chen Qianhu—later learned the truth and sighed bitterly.
"In the end… I suffered alone."
Zhuge Wangchan said, "Tomorrow at noon, I'll lead the logistics team to Daizhou. Meet us at Gao Family Village East Train Station. We leave exactly at noon. We will not wait."
She bowed. "Rest assured, Brother Zhuge. I won't be late."
The next day, at noon—
She was early.
She arrived at the station with her special operations team, equipment prepared.
Zhuge Wangchan's transport unit was already assembled. Supplies filled a hundred cargo compartments, while logistics soldiers packed the front carriages.
With nowhere else to go, she and her team boarded the front cars.
She became—
A single streak of red amid a sea of green.
One woman.
Surrounded by burly soldiers.
Anywhere else, this would've been dangerous.
But this was Gao Family Village.
From its first day, Li Daoxuan had set the core principle of the militia:
"Character first. Combat ability second."
Any soldier who hadn't completed ideological training remained in recruit camp—no weapons, no deployment.
Even with Manchus pressing in and bandits rampant, Li Daoxuan refused to lower standards.
Better understaffed than morally rotten.
Thus, every soldier on the train was upright and disciplined.
The logistics soldiers stole glances at her, faces flushed, hearts pounding—yet none dared approach.
Without realizing it, she became a goddess in countless hearts.
Wherever she stood, soldiers unconsciously gave her space, forming an invisible protective circle.
Seeing this, she finally relaxed.
"Our Gao Family Village army…" she thought, "…is truly different."
Compared to these men, those bloated officials of the imperial court didn't even deserve to carry shoes.