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

Chapter 287 International Public Opinion
The political propaganda department of the frontline command was located in the logistics support base.

The two-story low-rise house has an unpainted light gray cement exterior wall that has been worn by wind and sand over the years, leaving some fine spots. Apart from a few steel windows that are uniformly painted military green, the overall color scheme is too monotonous, simple and inconspicuous.

On the second floor, in the director's office at the end of the corridor, a middle-aged man with graying temples, dressed in a crisp military uniform, slammed his hand on the table with an imposing air.

The moment the man's palm touched the wooden table, the foreign newspaper lying on the edge of the table was squeezed up between his fingers, instantly creating several deep creases.

The middle-aged man, furious, shouted, "This is blatant blaming!"

In the newspaper, the enlarged and bold headline on the first line alone occupied nearly a quarter of the page, with an exceptionally eye-catching font that was enough to grab the attention of all readers.

——「Did that major Eastern country use “secret“ weapons?」

(Did that major Eastern power use a "secret" weapon?)
A very simple question.

Yet it can trigger a chain reaction effect like the flapping of a butterfly's wings. With a slight tremor of the pen, someone can use this as a trigger to quietly throw out a carefully crafted "word bomb," which can instantly create a massive tsunami in the international public opinion arena, causing the earth to shake.

This is not a quest for the truth, but a war without gunfire, yet far more brutal. The battlefield is on the newspaper.

For those living in peaceful countries, war often exists only in news headlines and photographs of distant lands. Those carefully selected words and images shape their entire understanding of justice and evil.

Just like this freshly printed foreign newspaper on the table, the information that is second only to the headline in terms of its eye-catching content is nothing more than a few photos of the heavy casualties of Y Army soldiers, which are allegorical, suggestive, and evoke empathy.

Their methods are quite sophisticated. Their core operating mechanism is not blatant lies, but a more ingenious "narrative technique": selectively reporting on a single source, covering the whole thing with a false cloak of "objectivity," while in reality, every word contains a strong bias and guidance, using vague terms such as "it is said," "possibly," and "suspected" to weave a protective net.

This series of combined moves not only provided them with "liability protection" but also subtly dropped a shocking and bombshell accusation.

The arrow is pointing straight at...?!

What are their true intentions? Do they want to create an image of extreme opposition between "aggressors" and "victims"? Are they eager to use a tragic narrative to cover up some truly unspeakable facts?

Rather than presenting a message, they are sowing seeds of doubt, subtly implanting preconceived notions into the audience's perception.

Rather than a debate about the truth, this is more of an information game about vying for the moral high ground, shaping the international narrative, and isolating and attacking the opponent.

Information warfare and military action have always been two complementary links, an inseparable whole.

A loss in the public opinion arena could very well translate into additional military and diplomatic pressure, leading to a further politically passive situation, which could ultimately backfire on the battlefield.

Conversely, a successful public opinion counterattack can not only dismantle the opponent's moral offensive but also establish a legitimate banner for one's own military operations, securing valuable international tacit approval, neutrality, or even support. This reduces political and diplomatic resistance and creates a more favorable strategic environment for frontline troops. Clearly, the battle for this grand narrative has already begun. Our adversary is hostile, relentlessly pressing forward, and eager to launch a comprehensive and decisive public opinion offensive against us. The current situation is far from optimistic, and we have no choice but to fight back.

Old Fang, the clerk, quickly stepped forward, bent down, and picked up the pen that had been knocked down by the palm strike and rolled several times on the ground.

He gently put the pen back in its place and was about to turn away when a strong voice came from beside him. The anger in his voice had dissipated, and he was now more composed: "I received a notification half an hour ago that the foreign journalists' group intends to move their visit forward and is expected to fly over from the capital early tomorrow morning."

The middle-aged man followed up in a deep voice, "Has the list of foreign language personnel responsible for accompanying us been finalized?"

"Not yet," Lao Fang quickly explained. "As per your previous instructions, I have sent secondment letters to several government units in other places, and after discussions with all parties, they all said they can only set off the day after tomorrow. If the interview team arrives tomorrow, I'm afraid we won't make it in time."

As for the local area, there is already a shortage of staff in various positions, and temporary replacements are not possible.

Upon hearing this, the middle-aged man frowned deeply, pondered for a moment, and then suddenly asked, "Are there a group of foreign language professionals recuperating at the hospital and sanatorium?"

As soon as he finished speaking, he raised his right hand and waved it in the air, then immediately ordered: "Send someone to ask around immediately to see if there are any comrades who have recovered well and can come and help temporarily."

……

Meng Youyou tied a knot in the bandage, then straightened up. Before leaving, she reminded him again, "Don't rush to get out of bed. If the wound reopens, you'll have to get stitches again. Let me give you a heads-up, the hospital doesn't have much anesthetic left, so..." She paused deliberately, leaving the rest open to speculation, perfectly balancing the threat.

Upon hearing this, the young soldier nodded hurriedly and replied, "I dare not move again."

Meng Youyou couldn't help but chuckle softly, picked up the treatment tray, and walked out of the ward.

The corridor was lined with rows of hospital beds, packed tightly together. As Meng Youyou was about to reach the corner of the corridor, her calf accidentally tripped over something, causing her to lose her balance. Her other foot then staggered forward, unfortunately kicking a wooden IV stand next to the hospital bed.

Meng Youyou subconsciously leaned against the edge of the hospital bed to steady herself. Before she could even catch her breath, she caught a glimpse of the old wooden pillar with an iron hook at the top, which was tilting downwards.

The glass saline bottle hanging on the hook was swaying violently, and it looked like it was about to shatter into pieces less than half a meter from the ground. Suddenly, a pair of hands with distinct knuckles reached out from the front and steadily supported the teetering IV stand.

Meng Youyou's gaze slowly moved upward from the swaying saline bottle, landing on the face of the man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere—it was Xiao Bai.

It was Xiao Bai!
Meng Youyou stood there stunned, her heart filled with mixed emotions, and for a moment she forgot to speak.

Xiao Bai first straightened the IV stand before slowly turning to the side. He looked at the person in front of him, who was staring blankly, and said in a joking tone with a friendly familiarity, "What? You look like you've seen a ghost."

The moment Meng Youyou heard the man's voice face to face, she felt an inexplicable urge to cry.