Warning: This report contains details of physical and sexual abuse and discussion of suicide.
Tricked, abducted and abused: Inside China's schools for 'rebellious' teens
Baobao's heart still races when she smells soil after morning rain.
It takes her back to early military drills behind locked gates - and the constant fear that marked every one of her days at Lizheng Quality Education School.
For six months, aged 14, she barely left the red and white building in a remote Chinese village where instructors tried to "fix" young people whose families considered them rebellious or problematic.
Students who failed to comply were beaten so severely they could not sleep on their backs or sit down for days, she says.
"Every single moment was agonising," says Baobao, now 19 and speaking under a pseudonym for fear of retribution.
She says she considered suicide, and knows other students who attempted it.
Baobao says her mother took her to the Lizheng Quality Education School in Hunan province when she began skipping classes, triggering rows which made their already difficult relationship worse.
Her mother left while she was being shown around the school, she says, and she then realised she was not allowed to leave: "They said if I behaved well, I might be able to get out."
Baobao initially tried to kick and punch the instructors, she says, but decided to comply when they tried to restrain her with her own shoelaces. Later, she was searched. She describes the way this was done as sexual assault. "I found it deeply offensive… she touched all my sensitive areas."
She says her mother paid about 40,000 yuan ($5,700; £4,300) for six months at the institution, and she was not given any academic lessons. Few disciplinary schools offer these, and some that do charge extra for them.
The school is still operating, now known as Quality Education for Teenagers, with around 300 students, aged eight to 18.
Undercover footage was filmed there earlier this year by a woman posing as a parent considering enrolling her fictional 15-year-old son. She said he was smoking, dating and driving her car.
She was shown locked gates on staircases, metal grilles along open-air corridors and CCTV monitoring dormitories where children rest, get changed and shower.
A staff member told her it would take at least six months to improve the teenager's behaviour, but under a "three-year warranty" she could send him back paying for just food and accommodation if he reverted to his old ways.
She was told not to tell him about the new school. "When we arrange pick-ups, we tell a white lie," the staff member said.
She explained instructors impersonating officials from the "internet regulator" would say they needed him to help with an investigation, and take him to the centre. "If this fails, several instructors will simply restrain him and carry him to the vehicle," she said.
Another former student, Zhang Enxu, now aged 20, says she had a similar experience when she was taken to a different school in the network.
Then 19, she had left home, frustrated with her parents' refusal to accept her transgender identity and her decision to live as a woman - she was registered male at birth. She says she had returned for a family visit to her grandmother's grave, when three men claiming to be police appeared, saying her details had been used in fraud.
"They forcibly dragged me into the car. My parents stood by as I was taken away," she says.
Baobao says she considered trying to kill herself, but realised she would be caught in the hours it would take her to die.
She says one of her classmates did attempt to take her own life, but instead of taking her to hospital, the instructors tried to flush her stomach themselves.
Both Baobao and Enxu describe counselling sessions where little understanding was shown.
Enxu's sessions were videoed for her parents, who she says had paid 65,800 yuan ($9,300, £7,000) for six months. "Be a happy, healthy, positive boy. All right?" she is urged. "You're a boy, do what boys do… just be happy."
Social pressure to have academically successful children plays a major role in parents' decisions - particularly among urban middle-class families - to send their children to disciplinary schools, says Dr Yichen Rao, an anthropologist at Utrecht University in the Netherlands.
He has studied internet addiction centres for young people in China, and says lack of support in the school system, anxiety, and conflict within the family can combine to make parents "feel that they have no other choices".
Baobao's mother declined to comment. Her daughter says she can now "understand both sides": "I think she was brainwashed by the slogans used to sell the school. She was desperate for me to become more obedient… to be the daughter she always wanted."
Baobao managed to leave after feigning an eye problem. Her mother simply said "let's turn the page", leaving her angry and confused, she recalls.

Two undercover researchers recently visited what may be the latest addition to the Li Zheng network.
Posing as investors in the Hong Kong education sector, the researchers set up a meeting with three former employees of Li Zheng schools, in a new school they have set up in Fujian.
"The profits in this industry are huge," Li Yunfeng, the director of counselling at the new school, told them. He outlined how the business model could work in Hong Kong, suggesting fees of at least $25,000 (£19,000) per student annually.
He declined to disclose the name of their boss, but said he was "a veteran".
He appeared to distance himself from the network, however, telling the undercover researchers: "There were some incidents. The parents lodged a complaint. The group... though not formally dissolved yet, it's teetering on the brink of collapse. That's why I stepped out."

Additional reporting by Alex Mattholie and Shanshan Chen