An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 250 Battlefield Work
Xiao Bai stared at the girl's strange posture—her upper body was deliberately lowered, and after more than ten seconds she slowly raised her head and stared at a receding figure outside the window.

Seeing this, Xiao Bai chuckled lightly, "Really don't recognize me?"

This time, Meng Youyou didn't answer, but instead changed the subject. She took a red string out of her pocket and handed it to the person opposite her, "I found this in the cellar before I came out, isn't it yours?"

Xiao Bai took it and thanked him, saying, "I thought I had lost it. Thank you so much."

"You're too kind." Meng Youyou withdrew her hand. "I'll remember the way you switched places with me in the cave and blocked my way for the rest of my life!"

Meng Youyou gave him a thumbs up and praised, "Brother Xiao is such a man!"

Xiao Bai chuckled and muttered softly, "I'm scared too."

Upon hearing this, Meng Youyou's expression turned serious. "Actually... I thought you wouldn't participate in this mission."

Xiao Bai signed up the night before the list was finalized. Like Meng Youyou, she was young but a key member of the department.

Xiao Bai is not only fluent in multiple languages, but also took several cryptography courses during his university years, and has a certain level of expertise in the field of intelligence decryption.

It can be said that his multi-skilled abilities are the best match for battlefield needs in the entire department.

Xiao Bai was tying a red string around his wrist when he heard Meng Youyou say this. He wasn't surprised and honestly replied, "I didn't plan to participate at first. My wife didn't want me to go."

"She even threatened me, saying that if I went, she would divorce me, remarry next month, and the child would take someone else's surname after it was born." Xiao Bai shook his head helplessly. "She's a coward, and she said all sorts of harsh things to stop me from going."

Meng Youyou listened silently, thinking of her parents, and felt a pang of melancholy.

“From the day I told her about the transfer order, every day after I got home from work, she would ask me again, ‘Honey, you didn’t sign up, did you?’” Meng Youyou didn’t ask any further questions, but Xiao Bai continued, “I always answered her, ‘No, don’t worry.’”

"But one night, she suddenly hugged me and tied this red string to my wrist. Then she said to me, 'Honey, you should still go. I know you want to go.'"

Xiao Bai shook the hand that had just re-tied the red string. "She kowtowed all the way from the bottom of the steps to the temple. She said that sincerity is key, and this will protect me and keep me safe. She told me to always carry it with me."

Xiao Bai naturally didn't believe in this, and in fact, his wife probably didn't either. It was more of a way of finding solace; sometimes people need to find a foothold for their beliefs.

"Then why do you want to go?" Meng Youyou asked curiously. "When you were in the cellar just now..." Meng Youyou stopped herself in time because she suddenly remembered that she probably looked no better than him, and most likely even worse.

Xiao Bai understood the meaning behind Meng Youyou's incomplete words almost instantly, and then continued, "No one is unafraid of death. I'm not kidding, my legs were shaking from walking those few steps in the cellar to get ahead of you. I thought I was mentally prepared before I came, but the real battlefield is much more dangerous than I imagined."

After a pause, the man lowered his eyes, rolled up his sleeves to cover the red string on his wrist, and carefully fastened the buttons on his cuffs before continuing slowly: "But these things have to be done by someone. Everyone wants to hide in the back and live a peaceful life. Who will be the one to protect us?"
If no one is willing to be a safe haven, where can one find shelter from the storm?
In the face of national crisis, no one can truly remain aloof and unaffected.

The man in front of her spoke a very lengthy speech in an extremely casual and ordinary tone, as if he were not the one who had been so frightened that he almost fainted while hiding in the cellar with Meng Youyou just half an hour ago.

Xiao Bai changed the subject and teased, "You seem more composed than me, even though you're a young girl. It seems your training in the army was quite effective."

Meng Youyou really wanted to say that she was just stunned by the shock, which is why she didn't seem to have any obvious reaction.

But in the end, he just smiled and accepted the compliment.

Was it effective? Meng Youyou thought about it for a moment, and that statement wasn't wrong. The experience of those six months had indeed changed her a lot. If it were Meng Youyou who had just arrived in this world and had experienced the turmoil half an hour ago, she probably would have closed her eyes and fainted on the spot, requiring others to divert their energy to drag her into the cellar.

...The morning fog was as thick as an overcooked pot of rice porridge, enveloping the entire limestone ridge. The tin roof of the A-sector observation post was covered with dew, and the droplets slid down the rusted grooves, splashing onto the ammunition boxes in front of the door.

The radio antenna jutted out from the crevice in the rock, with half a dried snakeskin hanging from the taut wire, swaying gently in the damp morning breeze.

Several empty food cans were piled up at the emergency exit behind the tin shack, their inner walls covered with dark green mold.

Meng Youyou bent down and crawled out of the listening room. She had been on the night shift last night and had just finished handing over her work with Xiao Bai a minute ago. The two of them checked the radio communication records of the Y Army's 148th Regiment that had been intercepted during the night, focusing on analyzing the newly emerging code word replacement rules.

She stepped onto the observation platform on the rock ledge covered with camouflage netting, took a deep breath, and felt the air, mixed with gunpowder residue and the scent of Litsea cubeba, fill her lungs.

Looking out, 1.5 kilometers down the mountain at the ten o'clock position, our army's forward defensive positions in Area A lie dormant in the fog like a sleeping giant. Only the red and white warning flags stuck on the sandbags of the machine gun nests can be vaguely seen appearing and disappearing in the fog.

That was the "front tooth" of the defense line in Area A, where more than half of an infantry battalion and an elite reconnaissance team were stationed. Smoke from the garrison bunkers on the reverse slope drifted out, mixed with the exhaust fumes from the diesel generators, condensing into a crooked gray line in the humid air.

If I'm not mistaken, he's there.

Meng Youyou forced herself to look away. Two kilometers away on the opposite ridge, the periscope of the Y Army observation post gleamed coldly in the mist, and their 82mm mortar positions were coiled like venomous snakes on the reverse slope of the main peak.

Meng Youyou has been here for almost a month.

At first, she was completely unable to adapt to wartime life here—even though it was only the end of March, the L-mountain front, located in a subtropical mountainous area, was already showing signs of being hot and humid.

The listening room, a tin-roofed shed, was like a stuffy can during the day, but at night, the mountain breeze would quickly lower the temperature.

Spring and summer are rainy, and the radio equipment gets damp and makes a lot of noise; the compressed biscuits and canned sauerkraut make her nauseous; the sound of artillery fire from the foot of the mountain at night keeps her awake all night.
Y Army's special forces would occasionally sneak up and launch attacks, attempting to destroy our observation post. Meng Youyou encountered this on her fifth day here.

Late that night, she was wearing headphones and testing a damp radio. Suddenly, a muffled thud ripped through the darkness—Y Army agents had bypassed the outer perimeter guard posts and triggered a landmine in the western minefield.

The observation post alarm sounded suddenly, and the troops stationed at the defensive positions on the mountainside rushed up the mountain to provide emergency support, marching along the steep mountain road.

At dawn, the fighting subsided. The man leading the team, covered in gunpowder smoke, entered the observation post command room to report on the battle situation, and left as dawn was just breaking.

The man walked past the tin shack window without looking to either side. This was the second time Meng Youyou had seen him in this war-torn place.

He's lost even more weight.

Actually, the thought had crossed her mind several days earlier when she saw him beside the collapsed mud house. She just hadn't expected that less than a week later, upon seeing him again, the changes in his physique would be so visibly obvious.

I'll likely not get a break during the day, and then I'll be busy all night again, living on the edge of life and death. And just like that, another day has passed. Tomorrow won't be any easier.

His shoulders weren't as broad as before, and his spine looked strangely thin, yet he still stood straight and tall, showing no sign of slackness or laxity. His long legs moved with long strides, as if he were someone who never knew fatigue.

The updates have been inconsistent lately. It's not that the author is slacking off; I'm spending all my time in front of the computer researching! (The later plot developments require a lot of research into various details, and I don't want to present a story that can't withstand scrutiny, with many realistic flaws. That would be a failure. Therefore, I need to do a lot of research beforehand.)
Although I have used substitutive names for many of the terms in this article, you should all know what events I am referring to here. I used substitutive names because I cannot guarantee that the information I have consulted is 100% accurate (although I cross-verify the authenticity of the information and archives I consult through different channels). Out of absolute reverence for history, I have adopted this approach.

Even though I use a fictional writing style and story, I still read and research a lot of materials every day to ensure that every point is based on evidence and examples, hoping to write a more realistic story.

Thank you all for your continued support!