Morning light spilled through the mist and streamed in from the high window, landing on the face of a sleeping young man. His features were sharp and strong, even in rest.

Jayce Jefferson stirred, raising an arm to block the light before blinking groggily. His drowsy eyes briefly sharpened with a glint of alertness before mellowing again—if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss it.

He stretched lazily, then slowly sat up. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts, bare-chested and barefoot on the cold floor, he rolled his shoulders and did a few stretches to wake up his muscles.

Then, without warning—smack—he dropped into a sharp forward fall and hit the ground with intent. With a push of his palms, he straightened his upper body, shifted position slightly, and started doing push-ups.

Three fingers.

Five fingers.

Knuckle push-ups.

Palm push-ups.

One-arm variations.

Every style you could think of, he was doing it. Like a machine—smooth and relentless.

A hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred…

His body rose and fell in rhythm, beads of sweat rolling off him and splashing onto the floor like a leaking faucet. It wasn’t long before his sweat formed a faint outline of his silhouette on the floor beneath him.

“Haah… haah…”

He was breathing heavily now, but if you listened closely, it was controlled and deep—more about recovery than exhaustion.

After a short pause, still soaked and undeterred by the cold floor, he dropped down again and started doing sit-ups, knees bent, hands behind his ears, his whole body focused.

That’s when the small hatch on the iron door flew open with a metallic clang.

A youthful voice came from outside, sounding both nervous and awestruck. “Sir, please get ready. Someone’s coming to see you.”

Then, just as suddenly as it opened, the hatch slammed shut again.

Jayce paused for a beat, then powered through another hundred sit-ups before flipping to his feet in one fluid motion.

He slid into a pair of slippers and shuffled into the cramped bathroom.

Around ten minutes later, he walked out, body still damp, a towel in hand. He dried off quickly with the small blanket usually reserved for the night, then pulled a fresh prison uniform from a cabinet beside the bed.

Yep, prison uniform—no doubt about it. The bold characters “Yancheng Prison” were printed on the left chest.

He was, unmistakably, an inmate.

And yet, the guards who watched him called him “sir.”

Now that’s something unusual.

Once he was dressed, Jayce walked to the door and tapped it twice.

The iron door swung open immediately—someone had clearly been standing by.

Outside were three young enlisted soldiers, all wearing corporal stripes. One of them, holding a pair of shiny handcuffs, looked a bit awkward as he started, “Sir, I’m sorry, but as per protocol, we…”

Jayce cut him off with a calm smile, extending his hands before the soldier could finish. “It’s fine. Go ahead.”

*Clack-clack.* The soldier cuffed him—loose enough not to pinch, but firm enough to stay on.

Efficient but careful, as if out of respect."Hey man, who’s asking to see me?" the young guy asked with a casual grin.

"Not sure, the order didn’t say," the corporal putting cuffs on him answered respectfully.

Jayce Jefferson fell silent. He followed quietly, his strides steady and composed.

No one spoke along the way. The only sounds echoing in the empty corridor were their synchronized footsteps—and the glaring numbers "0527" printed on the back of Jayce’s prison uniform.

A few minutes later, he was led into a visitation room.

Inside sat several officers, easily recognizable by the insignia of the Military Procuratorate and the Military Court on their sleeves.

"Comrade Jayce Jefferson, I’m here to announce the military’s decision on your case," said a middle-aged lieutenant colonel, standing and speaking seriously.

Jayce stood up too, his posture crisp and military-sharp, expression solemn, eyes calm and resolute. He said nothing, just locked his gaze on the officer.

"Comrade Jefferson," the officer began, "you did violate military law and caused significant international fallout. Based on the code, you should be severely punished. However, considering the circumstances and the fact that your actions, in some way, upheld our nation’s honor and military prestige—sending a clear message to those who think they can mess with us—along with several senior commanders personally speaking for you, the Supreme Commander has decided that your merits cancel out your mistakes. You’re cleared of criminal responsibility.”

“Several senior commanders? Went out of their way for me? I don’t even know what to say…”

Though Jayce had mentally prepared for the worst, the news still stunned him. But hearing that it wasn’t just one, but *several* old officers—most likely legendary war heroes—stood up for him made his hands tremble, voice shake in disbelief.

He knew damn well: if these big names could get HQ to back down, they had to be the real deal—the ones you'd find in textbooks.

“Yep, luck really favored you this time,” the officer chuckled lightly. “Your decision may’ve been reckless, but it struck a chord with those who lived through war. In their eyes, a Chinese soldier has to have backbone. If someone’s pressing a weapon to our throat, we fight—we don’t freeze. So yeah, even though what you did was serious, they still backed you—put their own honor on the line for it. Not just one either. So once you’re out, don’t make them regret it.”

Jayce snapped to attention and gave a firm salute, eyes unwavering. "Sir, please tell those senior commanders that no matter where I end up, whatever I do, I will never forget being part of the People’s Liberation Army—an honor I’ll carry forever. I won’t let them down."

The officer nodded. "I’ll pass along your words. Don’t forget what you said today."

"Thank you," Jayce said with genuine gratitude.

“Don’t thank me too fast,” the officer said with a wry smile. “You’re clear criminally—but military discipline still matters. You’ll be formally disciplined.”

“Sure. Understood. Whatever needs to be done, I’ll take it,” Jayce nodded quickly.

"Oh? So agreeable? Not even interested in what we’re hitting you with?" the officer teased.

Jayce grinned back. “Boss, does it really matter what it is? Like I could say no and dodge it?”

"Ha… fair enough. That’s on me for asking." The officer chuckled awkwardly, gave up on the teasing, and went ahead to announce the final decision.