Chapter 38

Zhou Yuezhu knew that Lin Xiang and He Hongyuan had gone out to treat everyone to dinner that evening. She had been waiting for Lin Xiang to return, but even as the sky turned completely dark, there was still no sign of her.

She lingered for a moment outside Lin Xiang’s door, contemplating that she had to work the next day. Just as she was about to turn and leave, the faint sound of a door opening downstairs made her pause.

“Sister Xiangxiang, you’re back!” Zhou Yuezhu clasped her hands together, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw the white figure appear at the entrance. She quickly tiptoed downstairs to greet her.

“Yuezhu, you haven’t gone to bed yet?” Lin Xiang was startled by Zhou Yuezhu’s sudden presence. She had already run back with her heart pounding wildly, and she hadn’t expected anyone from the Zhou family to still be awake. Seeing Yuezhu now gave her the guilty feeling of being caught red-handed after doing something bad.

“No, I was waiting for you!” Zhou Yuezhu had just reached the first floor and was about to take Lin Xiang’s arm when she suddenly gasped in a hushed voice, “Sister Xiangxiang, what happened to your lips?!”

They weren’t exactly swollen, but they were undeniably red—so vividly red that they outshone even the lipsticked mouths of the performers in the cultural troupe.

But it wasn’t the same kind of red. Lipstick left a dry, matte finish, whereas Lin Xiang’s lips were glistening with moisture, appearing full and strikingly alluring.

Lin Xiang’s heart nearly skipped a beat. She silently cursed a certain someone in her mind before quickly pressing her lips together and coming up with an excuse to fool the innocent young girl before her. “Oh, dinner was really spicy tonight. You know those yellow lantern peppers are no joke. I ate a few, and they nearly did me in.”

Hearing that, Zhou Yuezhu understood immediately. Those peppers were indeed very spicy.

She didn’t dwell any further on Lin Xiang’s noticeably red lips and instead looped her arm through Lin Xiang’s as they went upstairs together. Once inside, Zhou Yuezhu took on the shy, bashful demeanor of a young girl with a secret to share.

Lin Xiang, on the other hand, was preoccupied with pouring herself some water. The night air was chilly, and after messing around by the wall for a while, her mouth was dry. She downed more than half a cup of water before she finally felt some relief.

Just then, Zhou Yuezhu’s soft, girlish voice rang out, tinged with excitement, “Sister Xiangxiang, you must promise not to tell anyone about my secret.”

Lin Xiang nodded, her lips looking even more radiant after being moistened by the water. “Go ahead. What’s the big secret?”

Zhou Yuezhu’s face flushed a deep red, like rosy clouds at sunset. She fiddled nervously with the end of her braided ponytail before blurting out something shocking, “Tonight… I kissed Shen Jianming!”

Cough, cough! Lin Xiang nearly choked on her water. As someone who had also been up to no good that night, she immediately envisioned a certain moonless, windy night by an old red brick wall.

However, upon seeing the young girl in front of her, Lin Xiang maintained the composed demeanor of an older sister. She couldn’t afford to lose her cool. “Oh wow, you two are making great progress! Comrade Shen Jianming has finally come to his senses?”

Now that the topic was out in the open, even the shy Zhou Yuezhu couldn’t help but start chattering excitedly, recounting the historic moment of their first kiss during their date that evening.

But the more Lin Xiang listened, the more she felt something was off. So it turned out that Zhou Yuezhu and Shen Jianming’s so-called “kiss” was just a brief press of their lips before they immediately pulled apart. And that was it.

She could only sigh inwardly. These two were so innocent.

Unlike… cough cough…

After shyly spilling her secret, Zhou Yuezhu suddenly turned curious and asked nosily, “Sister Xiangxiang, you and my cousin have been together for quite some time now. Have you two kissed?”

This little girl was simple but also direct—truly impossible to fend off.

Cough, cough! Lin Xiang’s mind involuntarily flashed back to some very not innocent memories. Keeping a straight face, she declared solemnly, “No! Your cousin and I have a very pure and modest relationship. We’ve only held hands.”

Zhou Yuezhu: “…”

“Oh my god, my cousin is so slow! And he’s a soldier too…” Zhou Yuezhu had heard that men in relationships weren’t usually so well-behaved. If not kissing, at least they’d sneak a peck on the cheek. But to think that after all this time, her cousin had only held hands with Sister Xiangxiang?

After roasting her cousin a bit, Zhou Yuezhu suddenly realized that this actually made sense. Her cousin had always been distant and unapproachable. In the past, no female comrade could even get close to him—he was cold to everyone, like an ice mountain. Expecting him to take the initiative to kiss someone? That was nothing short of a dream!

---

After finally shooing Zhou Yuezhu back to her room last night, Lin Xiang had a wonderfully restful sleep and went to work just in time on Monday morning.

The situation at Factory No. 2 had slightly improved. The workers had found a reasonable balance between actual labor and slacking off, striving to complete their production tasks without having to work overtime.

Director Zhao strutted around the factory all day, practically wagging his tail in pride. He even went out of his way to invite a publicity officer from Factory No. 1 to conduct interviews, hoping to secure a feature for Factory No. 2 in the company’s internal newspaper.

To Lin Xiang’s surprise, Shen Chunli actually showed up.

Shen Chunli had been responsible for writing the food factory’s internal newspaper ever since she joined as a publicity officer at Factory No. 1. The newspaper summarized the company’s major news every month, mostly covering production updates and highlighting outstanding individuals and teams to promote the spirit of dedication and hard work.

Lin Xiang had read a few issues before. In short, the content was very positive.

“Come in, Comrade Shen! Make yourself at home,” Director Zhao was nothing if not hospitable. Even with a publicity officer from Factory No. 1, he didn’t put on airs. Instead of ordering his subordinates around, he personally made tea and launched into an impassioned speech about the struggles and achievements of Factory No. 2.

Shen Chunli had long been aware of Factory No. 2’s reputation—laziness, lax discipline, lack of motivation, ideological issues, and a lack of revolutionary spirit, as everyone often mentioned. However, this time, the Factory No. 2 had truly contributed to the factory’s profits, so she felt it was worth giving them a spot in the publication.

The problem was that Director Zhao was far too talkative—especially when it came to nonsense.

In his version of the story, the Factory No. 2 was like an abandoned child, unloved by either parent, while its workers were pitiable souls clinging to their homes… Shen Chunli’s mouth twitched; she found it difficult to put pen to paper.

“Director Zhao, let’s talk about the soda packaging redesign,” she said, steering the conversation toward the actual focus of her article.

“Oh, right, right.” Director Zhao was still caught up in lamenting the hardships of the Factory No. 2. Hearing her words, he quickly called over Lin Xiang. “Xiao Lin, come here! She’s the hero of our Factory No. 2. Comrade Shen, you should interview her! And make sure to write something really good about our Comrade Lin. Use all those fancy idioms and praises—those don’t cost anything, so just pile them on.”

Lin Xiang: “…”

Shen Chunli: “…”

Between the two young women, conversation flowed smoothly. After finishing her questions, Shen Chunli had a clear direction in mind for her article. As she put away her notebook and pen, she glanced at Lin Xiang with a more scrutinizing look.

Lin Xiang smiled. “Chunli, why are you looking at me like that?”

Shen Chunli curled her lips into a subtle smile. “Nothing, I just think you’re pretty capable.”

Who would have thought that adding a single line to the packaging could have such a big impact? Now it seemed that her cousin Meng Jing’s relentless pursuit of Captain He wasn’t in vain—he had good taste in choosing Lin Xiang.

Thinking of Meng Jing, Shen Chunli’s thoughts drifted. She had come home last night fuming, her face red as a beet. It was hard to tell whether she was angry or embarrassed.

Shen Chunli had asked, but Meng Jing refused to say a word, locking herself in her room.

Lin Xiang wasn’t the least bit flustered by such a straightforward compliment and accepted it with ease. “Then make sure you give our Factory No. 2 a nice big section in the paper~”

Shen Chunli’s expression instantly turned serious. She clutched her notebook and pen tightly, standing firm on her principles. “That depends on the newspaper’s layout. I’m not giving you special treatment!”

Lin Xiang couldn’t help but laugh.

After seeing Shen Chunli off, Lin Xiang returned to her office to report in, only to find Director Zhao holding a thick stack of ration tickets, ready to distribute rewards.

“Xiao Lin, you’ve really made our Factory No. 2 proud. You haven’t even been here for a few months, and yet here’s a whole stack of cotton, meat, sugar, and pastry tickets for you. Take more.”

The factory occasionally had extra benefits, and now that Lin Xiang had fully integrated into the inner circle as a core worker, she was naturally well-regarded.

Kong Zhenzhen and Ma Defa had no objections either, each taking a few tickets—though their share was smaller than Lin Xiang’s, they were still quite pleased.

“Thank you, Director.” Lin Xiang wasn’t about to be polite. Since good things were coming her way, she would accept them without hesitation.

She counted them one by one: four cotton tickets, totaling four jin (about four pounds), plus one jin each of meat, sugar, and pastry tickets.

She had already spent last month’s wages, using both her own and He Hongyuan’s ration tickets to buy food. But she still craved more—no matter how much money one had, it wasn’t possible to eat rich meals, sweets, and pastries every day. These new tickets were a lifesaver.

After work, Lin Xiang turned to He Hongyuan, who had come to pick her up. “Let’s stop by the supply and marketing cooperative to buy some groceries and peach crisps. Oh, and we should send these cotton tickets to your mother.”

On Langhua Island, winter temperatures still hovered above 20°C (68°F), so a long-sleeved shirt or a light sweater was enough. There was little need for thick cotton-padded jackets. But in Xifeng City, where He’s mother lived, the winter was much colder, and she would need cotton for making jackets or quilts.

He Hongyuan considered this. “The temperature fluctuates a lot here. It’s warm during the day, but the nights are chilly. Did you bring winter clothes when you came? You should have at least one thin cotton-padded jacket.”

Lin Xiang was doubtful. “Do I really need one?”

He Hongyuan chuckled, watching her seriously contemplate the matter. He resisted the urge to pinch her cheek, tightening his hand at his side instead. “How about this? You send these four jin of cotton tickets to my mother, and I’ll use my own tickets to get you a jacket.”

Lin Xiang’s almond-shaped eyes widened. “Isn’t that redundant?”

Why didn’t he just send his own cotton tickets to his mother in the first place?

He Hongyuan raised an eyebrow. “My mother will be much happier if she receives the tickets from you.”

Lin Xiang: “…”

This man really knew how to play his cards right.

At the supply and marketing cooperative, they bought half a jin of glutinous rice sticks and half a jin of peach crisps, saving the sugar tickets for later. Then, Lin Xiang led He Hongyuan to the seafood station next door to pick out a fish.

Luck was on their side today. The fishermen had returned with a bountiful catch, so the seafood at the station was fresh. A lively iron-scaled fish was strung up on a grass rope and handed over.

Lin Xiang reached for her money without looking up and casually told He Hongyuan to take the fish.

For He Hongyuan, this was the first time he had ever gone grocery shopping with someone other than his mother—especially with his significant other.

He watched as Lin Xiang carefully selected the fish from the water tank, making sure to pick the freshest and best-looking one. Then she handed him the fish while she paid, before turning to him with a bright smile.

“Let’s go. We have all the seasonings at home, so we’ll make fish soup tonight.” Lin Xiang was clearly excited.

Hearing the word “home,” He Hongyuan couldn’t help but picture a house in his mind—a home that belonged to the two of them.

For now, though, they were still staying at the Zhou family’s place. Once they got back, Lin Xiang wasted no time getting started on dinner, adding fish soup as a special treat to their meal.

Aunt Feng had already prepared three dishes: shredded potatoes, stir-fried cabbage, and a plate of steamed sweet potatoes.

By the time Lin Xiang’s fish soup was ready, the milky-white broth looked as pure as fresh milk. A few bright red goji berries floated on top, releasing a fragrant aroma. The taste was light yet flavorful, delicious and refreshing. The ironhead fish, one of the most common fish around Langhua Island, had few bones and tender meat.

A large bowl of fish soup was polished off completely by the four of them. At the dinner table, when Feng Li heard that Lin Xiang was sending cotton ration tickets to her second sister-in-law, she immediately said, “I just happen to have a few more here. I’ll send them along with yours.”

After dinner, Lin Xiang took the cotton ration tickets from Aunt Feng and went back to her room to write a letter. He Hongyuan followed her steps and entered her room along with her.

This was the first time He Hongyuan had ever stepped into a woman’s private room.

Seeing his overly serious expression, Lin Xiang couldn’t help but tease him, “Captain He, have you ever entered another female comrade’s room before?”

He Hongyuan answered with a straight face, “My mother’s.”

Lin Xiang: “…”

She had to admit, she lost this round. But she also knew he was telling the truth.

He Hongyuan leaned against the table, watching as Lin Xiang bent over to write her letter. In the letter, she briefly described her life on Langhua Island, choosing only good things to talk about. At the end, she even praised He Hongyuan a little. She folded the letter, placed it inside an envelope, and tucked in the six cotton ration tickets.

On the yellowed envelope, Lin Xiang wrote the address of Aunt Hes brigade and the recipient’s name. When she got to the sender’s section, she paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on the man beside her. Under He Hongyuan’s intense stare, she wrote down the sender’s name—Lin Xiang and He Hongyuan.

She looked up and pushed the envelope toward him, as if expecting praise. “Look, I even added your contribution.”

After all, she was sending her cotton ration tickets to Aunt He, while He Hongyuan was giving his own tickets to her. It was hard to say who was giving to whom.

He Hongyuan glanced at the neat handwriting, seeing their two names written closely together without any separation. A warm feeling spread in his heart.

It’s said that when people fall in love, they can’t help but crave physical closeness. Lin Xiang was no exception.

However, since they were still staying at the Zhou family’s house, it wouldn’t be appropriate for her to be alone with He Hongyuan in a closed room. So she deliberately left the door wide open to show that there was nothing improper going on.

Once the letter was finished, she assigned He Hongyuan the task of mailing it the next day. As she spoke, her gaze drifted toward the envelope in his hands, then down to his palm.

He Hongyuan’s hands were large, much bigger than hers. His fingers were long and well-defined, with strong, prominent knuckles. They were quite good-looking, even a little… sexy. His palms were covered in callouses, evidence of his years of training and battle experience.

With a serious expression, Lin Xiang suddenly said, “Captain He, I know how to read palms. Let me take a look at yours.”

As she spoke, she grabbed He Hongyuan’s broad right hand and pulled it toward her.

He Hongyuan sternly corrected her, “What palm reading? You shouldn’t be engaging in feudal superstitions.”

Lin Xiang suddenly remembered that in this era, superstitious practices were strictly prohibited. But since it was just the two of them, she didn’t care. “Oh? Are you going to report me? If anyone accuses me of promoting feudal superstitions in the future, it must be because you ratted me out.”

The corners of He Hongyuan’s lips twitched slightly, as if amused by her nonsense. “You’re really good at playing the blame game.”

“Come on, let me read your palm,” Lin Xiang insisted. Of course, she didn’t actually know how to read palms. She simply traced her soft fingertips across the rough callouses on his palm and started making things up. “Hmm… Comrade He Hongyuan, I can tell you are a highly successful and determined man. Look at this career line—so straight and smooth! And your life line? It’s long and strong. That means you’ll live a long life…”

A strange tingling sensation spread through He Hongyuan’s palm. Lin Xiang’s touch was soft and light, like a feather teasing his heart. It stirred something within him, making it hard for him to focus on her nonsense about palm reading.

He could tell she was just making things up, spewing a stream of compliments without hesitation. He curled his fingers slightly, letting them brush against her palm, and said in a calm voice, “Then why don’t you check my love line?”

Lin Xiang raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Captain He, what’s this? Weren’t you just against feudal superstitions? Now you’re asking about your love line?”

A smile spread across He Hongyuan’s face, softening his usually sharp brows. “Mmm, you seem to be quite skilled. So, tell me, Master Lin—when will my fiancée be willing to marry me?”

Lin Xiang’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up and met his deep, burning gaze. His usually cold eyes seemed to be filled with fire, scorching and intense.

She suddenly let go of his hand, pulling her own hands back and clenching them into fists on her lap, trying to suppress the tingling sensation in her chest. She muttered, “I can’t read love lines. Go ask someone else.”

“Oh?” He Hongyuan didn’t press further. Instead, he leaned forward and playfully flicked the tip of her nose. His eyes glimmered with laughter. “Not very skilled after all, are you, Comrade Lin Xiang?”

---

The next day, He Hongyuan took a trip to the post office during his lunch break. He bought a stamp, affixed it to the envelope, and mailed both the letter and the cotton ration tickets.

Before sealing the envelope, he had asked Lin Xiang to add a message at the end, persuading his mother to come stay on the island for a while.

In the past, no matter how much He Hongyuan urged her, Aunt He never budged. But perhaps, coming from her son’s fiancée, the request would have more weight.

After mailing the letter, He Hongyuan returned to the military base and went to the cafeteria for lunch.

It was funny—because of his past grudges, he had rarely visited the Zhou family’s home before. He had always eaten his three meals at the military cafeteria.

But now, he suddenly felt that eating alone in the cafeteria or with his comrades didn’t taste as good.

It was as if someone was missing.

Completely unaware that he was being dismissed, Zhang Huafeng continued to eat heartily. He brought up Jiang Weijun, who had already submitted his marriage report, and asked about his wedding preparations. When He Hongyuan heard the word “wedding,” he couldn’t help but perk up his ears.

“Wow, there’s a lot to prepare for a wedding,” Jiang Weijun, an outstanding chief of staff in his professional duties, was completely clueless when it came to wedding customs. “My mother even wrote to remind me—she said I need to prepare a betrothal gift, get the ‘three rounds and one sound’ depending on the family’s conditions, and also match our birth dates to pick an auspicious wedding day… Just hearing it all gives me a headache.”

Zhang Huafeng laughed loudly, full of envy. “Headache or not, at least you’re getting married! Brother, you move fast!”

Jiang Weijun teased him, “You should hurry up too. And you, Hongyuan, both of you should take action.”

Before He Hongyuan could respond, Zhang Huafeng declared, “Don’t worry, I may fall behind you, but there’s no way I’ll fall behind He Hongyuan! I’ll definitely get married before him.”

“You sure are confident,” He Hongyuan replied coolly.

Zhang Huafeng puffed out his chest with pride.

After finishing his latest assignment, He Hongyuan took a few days to rest before throwing himself back into work. In September, new recruits arrived. Training was primarily led by the battalion commander, but as the regiment commander, He Hongyuan conducted an inspection. He quickly noticed a few unruly recruits who resisted discipline and immediately stepped in to drill them himself.

There were always a few troublemakers among new recruits—after all, even He Hongyuan had been one when he first joined. Young, impulsive, reckless—acting like he feared nothing in the world.

With his commanding presence, He Hongyuan’s mere silence could strike fear into others, let alone when he issued orders in his deep voice. The recruits groaned in unison, protesting that they couldn’t possibly complete the assigned tasks, but he remained indifferent.

“Starting now, five-kilometer cross-country run. If you don’t finish within seventeen minutes, you’ll run another five kilometers with extra weight!” His gaze was sharp and unwavering as he issued the command.

One of the troublemakers stepped forward in defiance. “Regiment Commander, there’s no way we can complete it in seventeen minutes. You might as well just tell us outright that we’ll all have to do the extra run.”

His words were full of complaints and resistance—implying that He Hongyuan was deliberately making things difficult for them.

He Hongyuan’s cold gaze swept over the group. His sharp brows furrowed, lips pressed tightly together. After a moment, he spoke with authority, voice ringing across the training ground.

“If you can’t complete the task, that’s on you. You waste time slacking off, of course you can’t meet the standard. This is the worst batch of recruits I’ve ever trained! And now, before even starting, you’ve already convinced yourselves that none of you can finish in seventeen minutes? Where’s your determination? If you have none, then what are you even doing here? Go home and farm instead!”

His voice echoed across the vast training field.

He continued, each word striking like a hammer, breaking through the complacency of the fresh recruits, who hadn’t yet shed their undisciplined ways. “When you’re on the battlefield, when your life is on the line, are you going to negotiate with your enemies too? Tell them you can’t run any faster? Ask them to lower their standards? Let’s see if your enemies will agree!”

Rows upon rows of recruits stood in formation. Most of them were only sixteen to eighteen years old, still wavering between obedience and rebellion.

But now, faced with the intimidating and formidable regiment commander, none of them dared to make a sound.

“When I was a new recruit, my five-kilometer cross-country run was sixteen minutes and two seconds. Your battalion commander’s record was sixteen minutes and twenty-six seconds. Your instructor this morning ran it in sixteen minutes and thirty-two seconds… And you?!” He Hongyuan’s voice was sharp, cutting through the air. “After all this training, has even one of you achieved a decent time? Your attitude is lazy, your results are pathetic, and you don’t even want to train harder! If anyone doesn’t want to do this, step forward right now and submit a report—I’ll personally send you home!”

The recruits stood motionless, backs straight in the scorching sun, not a single one daring to step forward. Even the most defiant of them, Dong Wu, the one who had given Captain Zhou the most trouble, pressed his lips tightly together.

He Hongyuan’s expression softened slightly, though he didn’t show it too obviously. Under the brim of his white military cap, his eagle-sharp eyes swept over the group as he spoke again, voice strong and resolute. “Now—do you have the confidence to finish the five-kilometer run in seventeen minutes?”

“Yes!” The recruits, who had just been complaining moments ago, didn’t dare back down now and answered in unison.

“Louder! Do you have confidence?” He Hongyuan’s voice thundered across the field.

The recruits, their fighting spirit ignited, shouted back with all their strength, “Yes!”

“Move out!”

Captain Zhou let out a breath as he watched the recruits take off with their weighted packs. He had to admit—Captain He’s authority really worked wonders.

If he had been the one training these recruits, it would have taken him far longer to get them in line. But with just a few words, Captain He had them terrified into obedience. Even the most unruly recruits became compliant in his presence.

That was the kind of commanding aura honed through real battlefield experience.

After his speech, He Hongyuan stayed behind to discuss this year’s batch of recruits with Captain Zhou. In particular, they talked about Dong Wu, the seventeen-year-old recruit who was both highly talented and notoriously difficult to manage.

In every training test, Dong Wu ranked first, proving his exceptional skills. He was confident, even arrogant—always seeking the spotlight, unafraid to challenge authority. He had already established himself as the leader among the recruits.

But his boldness and strong-willed nature made him difficult to discipline. While Captain Zhou admired his abilities, he also found him to be a major headache.

A recruit like Dong Wu was undoubtedly the kind of soldier that made people feel both love and frustration.

He Hongyuan held the stopwatch for training, listening to Captain Zhou’s report. At 16 minutes and 11 seconds, he caught sight of Dong Wu at the front of the pack, only about 200 meters from the finish line.

Just as He Hongyuan and Captain Zhou thought Dong Wu would be the first among the recruits, he suddenly stopped, bending down to check on a fallen comrade.

By the 17-minute mark, eight recruits had completed the five-kilometer cross-country run within the designated time, while the rest trickled in afterward.

When Dong Wu crossed the finish line carrying his comrade, who had twisted his ankle, He Hongyuan glanced at the stopwatch—17 minutes and 9 seconds.

“All those who failed to finish within 17 minutes, gather up! Extra training—five kilometers with weights!” He Hongyuan ordered, his face expressionless.

“Report!” Dong Wu stepped forward to defend himself. “Commander, if I had run normally, I would’ve finished within 17 minutes.”

He Hongyuan lifted his gaze, scanning the young yet energetic face before him. His voice was indifferent: “So? Did you cross the finish line within 17 minutes just now?”

“I stopped to carry Wang Weiguo…” Dong Wu was unconvinced. He had only been 200 meters away from the finish line—anyone could see he would’ve made it in time.

He Hongyuan cut him off in a firm tone. “So, did you or did you not cross the finish line within 17 minutes?”

Dong Wu clenched his jaw in frustration, then muttered defiantly, “No.”

“Then start running!” He Hongyuan showed no leniency.

The recruits began their extra training. More than ten minutes later, they returned, drenched in sweat and panting. Dong Wu, once again, was the first to finish. He had an outstanding physique—strong, solid muscles, and explosive power, especially in the final sprint.

Even after the extra training, he still looked toward the imposing commander with dissatisfaction.

He Hongyuan strode toward the group of resting recruits. The moment he arrived, all conversations ceased, and every soldier straightened their posture, instinctively becoming disciplined.

Dong Wu, seeing the commander stop in front of him, declared boldly, “Commander, I was first in the five-kilometer weighted run too!”

His expression was fearless, full of reckless confidence.

He Hongyuan chuckled lightly, the sternness from training fading. “Feeling proud now?”

Dong Wu: “……”

The more the commander tried to put him down, the more fired up he became. Just as he was about to argue, the “devil” commander spoke again.

“If I had been the one carrying a comrade, I still would’ve finished in under 17 minutes.”

That single sentence shut him down completely. Dong Wu felt his blood boil.

He had heard plenty of stories about Captain He’s heroic feats. Looking at his tall, powerful frame and the muscles beneath his uniform, Dong Wu knew—he was telling the truth.

For a moment, Dong Wu felt deflated.

His rigid stance relaxed, and under the scorching sun, this usually stubborn recruit seemed a little subdued.

“But, the fact that you carried your comrade means that, in battle, your comrades can trust you to have their backs,” He Hongyuan suddenly changed his tone, a hint of appreciation in his gaze. “Next time, even while carrying a comrade, finish within 17 minutes. Can you do it?”

Dong Wu immediately straightened up, his voice loud and confident. “Yes!”

He Hongyuan nodded slightly and turned to leave.

“Commander!” Dong Wu called after him, eyes fixed on his commanding officer’s imposing back.

He Hongyuan didn’t turn around but paused to listen. A young, passionate voice rang out behind him: “Commander, one day, I’ll surpass you!”

He Hongyuan smirked, then muttered under his breath, “Little brat.”

Then he raised his voice. “Go ahead and try!”

Under the blazing sun, the military flag appeared even more vivid—a symbol of generations of soldiers carrying on their duty. Dong Wu kept his eyes locked on the commander’s back, his gaze filled with excitement and determination.

After a brief rest, training resumed. Captain Zhou took over as the lead instructor, while the injured Wang Weiguo was carried by He Hongyuan to the military hospital.

Wang Weiguo, naturally more timid than the others, trembled as he clung to the back of the feared commander. “C-Commander… I can walk by myself. You don’t have to carry me.”

He Hongyuan had spotted him limping toward the military hospital earlier and had immediately picked him up.

“If I let you hobble all the way there, the medical staff would be off duty by the time you arrived.” Carrying a grown man was effortless for He Hongyuan as he strode swiftly to the hospital, heading straight to the nurses.

Wang Weiguo had never expected the fearsome commander to personally carry him. Yet, a strange sense of safety and trust welled up inside him.

At sixteen, he was the youngest of the recruits. The grueling training left him exhausted by day, and at night, homesickness kept him awake.

Now, being carried by the commander, his nose suddenly stung with emotion. Just as he sniffled, he heard He Hongyuan’s low, stern voice.

“You dare cry? Try it, and see what happens.”

Wang Weiguo: “……”

Any trace of sentimentality was instantly scared away.

After handing Wang Weiguo over to the nurse for treatment, He Hongyuan glanced around the hospital. Suddenly, he spotted a familiar figure.

Wang Weiguo watched as the always-serious, ever-intimidating commander strode toward a woman in a yellow blouse.

To his shock, there was a faint smile on the commander’s face—his voice even seemed… gentle.

“Why did you suddenly come to the military district hospital?” He Hongyuan looked Lin Xiang up and down, worried that she was injured.

Lin Xiang’s forehead was drenched in sweat, and her flushed face was covered in sunburn from rushing over. She quickly explained, “I’m not injured. It’s one of our factory workers—his hand got caught in the equipment this afternoon. He’s in surgery now getting stitches.”

Just recalling the blood gushing from the injury made Lin Xiang shudder.

In this era, safety awareness in the workplace was not as developed as in later generations, where production operations were more standardized and regulated. The workers here received minimal training, and the requirements weren’t particularly strict. Production processes often lacked proper regulations, leaving a lot of safety hazards.

Lin Xiang hadn’t fully realized this before, but witnessing the accident firsthand made it painfully clear.

She decided that once the worker’s hand healed, she would discuss with Director Zhao the implementation of standardized equipment operation protocols to reduce, or even eliminate, similar incidents. If all went well, she would also propose stricter safety standards for the Factory No. 1.

He Hongyuan nodded and followed Lin Xiang’s gaze to the operating room on the hospital’s first floor. “How long has he been in there?”

“More than half an hour.”

Just as she finished speaking, the operating room door opened, and Lin Xiang quickly stepped forward to ask about the situation.

The attending doctor was Meng Jing. Dressed in a white coat, she removed her mask and efficiently explained the patient’s condition: “The arm was cut by a sharp object. The wound is not shallow, but we’ve stitched it up and applied medication. He needs to stay in the hospital for observation for a week. If there’s no worsening of the injury, he can recover at home. No heavy labor for three months.”

Lin Xiang trusted the expertise of the book’s female lead—after all, Meng Jing later made great strides in the medical field. She sincerely thanked her, “Thank you, Dr. Meng.”

Meng Jing nodded at her, then glanced at He Hongyuan standing behind Lin Xiang. Without another word, she turned and left.

Her footsteps were hurried, but her mind was a mess. Damn it, why was it that seeing He Hongyuan didn’t make her want to say anything, yet suddenly made her think of that insufferable Jiang Zhenghao?!

After settling the injured worker in the hospital and providing him with a compensation package, Lin Xiang returned to the factory to discuss standardized safety protocols with Director Zhao.

State-owned factory benefits were quite good at this time—work injuries were covered by the labor union, factory, and department, ensuring full medical expenses, financial compensation, and nutritional supplements.

Director Zhao, who had just applied for factory assistance for the injured worker, readily agreed with Lin Xiang’s suggestion. While the factory’s production wasn’t extremely dangerous, injuries did happen occasionally throughout the year. Thinking about it, it was clear that the workers lacked proper training and standardized procedures.

“So how do we draft the guidelines?” Director Zhao asked, not particularly experienced in this area.

Lin Xiang had already thought it through. “Director, I’ll draft them. You can review and finalize them afterward.”

“Alright.” Director Zhao looked at Lin Xiang with growing appreciation.

Lin Xiang carefully drafted operational guidelines based on the characteristics of the food factory. She detailed regulations for food safety, hygiene, and standardized equipment operation to prevent injuries.

Director Zhao read through her clear, numbered points—1, 2, 3, 4, 5—and was very satisfied. “Good. Post these in the workshop. Tomorrow afternoon, we’ll gather all the workers and go over them.”

“Okay.” Lin Xiang was a person of action, especially when it came to important matters. She posted the safety guidelines on the workshop wall and then persuaded Director Zhao, “Director, why not suggest the Factory No. 1 implement this too?”

Director Zhao initially didn’t want to interfere with the Factory No. 1’s affairs. After all, the Factory No. 2 was not well-received by the first, and he had little influence there. However, hearing Lin Xiang talk about the dangers of workplace injuries, he eventually agreed.

“Alright, let’s go to the Factory No. 1 and speak to the deputy director.”

As they entered the Factory No. 1, Director Zhao noticed freshly produced shrimp paste cans being loaded onto trucks for shipment. He couldn’t help but take a second look.

Lin Xiang was also curious. At the last meeting with the shrimp paste workshop, Director Qin had been adamant about modifying the formula. She wondered about the results of this batch…

As they got closer, they overheard Director Qin talking to the sales department chief by the trucks.

“Chief Song, don’t worry. We’ve improved the formula this time. We’ll definitely compete with the food factory and win back our lost orders!”

One truck after another departed, loaded with the newly “improved” shrimp paste cans. Workshop Director Qin Yangbo was full of anticipation.

Lin Xiang glanced at the departing blue trucks, unable to shake a sense of unease.

She had a bad feeling that Director Qin’s expectations were about to be dashed.