Siheyuan: I, Shazhu, started out as an army and became a general.

Nanjing.

At the entrance of the military academy, two rows of tall plane trees stand straight in the cold wind.

This is the cradle of the generals and marshals of New China, and also the forefront of domestic military theory.

Those who can enter this door are either meritorious generals who have crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood, or the chosen ones of heaven.

He Yuzhu stood calmly at the school gate, carrying a simple bag.

"Look, isn't that 'Tiger He'?"

Not far away, several young cadets in brand-new military uniforms gathered together, pointing and whispering about He Yuzhu.

They exude an air of arrogance, clearly indicating either a privileged background as "second-generation" individuals or highly educated academics who have joined the military.

"Looks like nothing special. I heard he's a chef by trade?" A bespectacled trainee pushed up his glasses, his tone revealing his disdain. "We're talking about modern warfare here. The old trick of being fearless is outdated."

"Hey, keep your voice down, they're the heroes who captured Walker alive."

"He was just lucky! Real large-scale military command relies on mathematics, overall planning, and brains! Not brute force like wielding a kitchen knife!" The bespectacled man said with a look of dissatisfaction.

He Yuzhu's ears twitched. With the support of the [King of Soldiers Engine], he could hear the buzzing of the flies very clearly.

He ignored them and headed straight for the registration area.

"Name."

"He Yuzhu".

The old clerk at the registration desk didn't even look up until he caught a glimpse of the almost blindingly bright Special Merit Medal on He Yuzhu's chest out of the corner of his eye. His hand trembled violently, and his pen fell to the table with a "clatter".

"You...you're the Commander He who dug the tunnels at Shangganling?"

"it's me."

"Greetings, Commander!" The old cadre stood up abruptly and saluted, his back ramrod straight. "Dean Liu specifically instructed that you should go directly to Conference Room Number One upon your arrival, where the Soviet military advisory group is giving a lecture."

"Give a lecture?" He Yuzhu raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's about the theory of deep strikes by mechanized forces."

He Yuzhu nodded, then turned and left.

As soon as I arrived at the door of Conference Room No. 1, I heard it was as noisy as a vegetable market inside.

"No! Absolutely not!" A clear, resolute female voice pierced through the silence. "Following the Soviet experts' plan to build fully mechanized divisions is completely incompatible with our industrial base! This is forcing growth!"

"Comrade Lin Wanqiu, watch your attitude! This is valuable experience from our Soviet big brother!" a bureaucratic male voice immediately retorted.

He Yuzhu pushed the door open and entered without knocking.

The room was filled with smoke and packed with officers.

On the podium, a tall female military officer, her face flushed, was arguing vehemently, like a leopard that had been provoked.

She wore a well-fitting military uniform, her short hair reached her ears, and her eyebrows and eyes were exquisitely beautiful, yet she exuded a cold and heroic air.

Lin Wanqiu.

The name instantly popped into He Yuzhu's mind. The future chief designer of missile control systems, currently a military genius who had just returned from studying in the Soviet Union.

This uninvited guest instantly became the focus of everyone's attention.

"Which class are you in? Don't you know the rules!" The Soviet military advisor Ivanov on the podium frowned and scolded him with displeasure.

He Yuzhu didn't even look at him; his gaze fell on Lin Wanqiu, and he suddenly smiled.

"She's right."

The sound wasn't loud, but it was like a stone thrown into a calm pond, instantly silencing the entire audience.

"What do you know?" The Soviet advisor laughed, angered by the sudden provocation. "And who are you?"

He Yuzhu didn't answer. He walked straight to the blackboard, picked up the chalk, and elegantly drew a big X on the densely drawn diagram of mechanized advancement.

"I am He Yuzhu."

"I believe that talking about mechanized deep strikes without air superiority is simply handing the enemy bombers their lives."

"What we're trying to achieve isn't just simple mechanization."

He Yuzhu turned around, his eyes sweeping across the room like knives.

"Instead—it's synthetic!"

[Ding! Host detected as being in a top-tier military academy!]

[Check-in successful!]

[Rewards: Proficiency in Modern Warfare Theory (including Gulf War simulations), Photographic Memory (Max), Political Awareness (Max)!]

A massive flow of information instantly flooded his brain.

He Yuzhu slammed the chalk heavily onto the blackboard.

"Today, I'm going to give you a lesson on what 'asymmetric warfare' is."

The meeting room was deathly silent.

"Combined arms?" Soviet military advisor Ivanov was stunned; he'd never heard of that term before. "You mean mixing infantry and tanks? Isn't that coordinated operations?"

"No."

He Yuzhu broke the chalk in two, his eyes sharp and frightening. "Synergy is a physical reaction, synthesis is a chemical reaction."

He turned around and drew a three-dimensional, net-like structural diagram on the blackboard with great flourish, leaving everyone present dumbfounded.

"Future wars will not be about who has more tanks or whose cannons have the thickest barrels."

"It's a competition of information."

"Whoever discovers, locks onto, and directs firepower to take down the enemy's command node first wins. That's called a dimensional reduction attack!"

He Yuzhu pointed at the blackboard, speaking slowly but each word like a hammer blow: "Advisor Ivanov's iron torrent is indeed formidable on the plains."

"But if I send a special forces team, armed with man-portable anti-tank missiles and laser-guided missiles, to infiltrate your rear, light up your logistics headquarters, and then have long-range rocket artillery bombard the area..."

"boom!"

He Yuzhu made a flower-shaped gesture and smiled coldly, "You, a tank division, will be nothing but a pile of scrap metal in an instant."

A collective gasp rippled through the audience.

Those "academic" students who had previously looked down on the school now stared wide-eyed, feeling as if their minds had been completely turned upside down and their worldviews were being reshaped.

Lin Wanqiu looked at the man on the podium who was speaking eloquently, her beautiful eyes sparkling with admiration.

This guy... isn't a brute? How come his theories are decades ahead of what I learned in the Soviet Union?!

"Absurd!" Ivanov's face turned a deep shade of purple. "This is fantasy! A pipe dream! No country could achieve this level of precision in coordination!"

"Just because you can't do it now doesn't mean you can't do it in the future."

He Yuzhu threw down the chalk, dusted off his hands, and said calmly, "We're poor and have a weak foundation, so we can't afford to follow in other people's footsteps and eat their dust."

"If we're going to do it, we'll do it by taking a shortcut to overtake others."

"For example, missiles."

As soon as those two words were uttered, a thin old man sitting in the back corner suddenly raised his head.

The old man was dressed in a simple Zhongshan suit. His eyes, which were usually calm and still, suddenly flashed with a terrifying light.

He was the dean of the college and the person who came specifically to "interview" He Yuzhu.

"Comrade," the old man suddenly spoke, his voice gentle yet carrying an undeniable authority, "do you think, for us right now, is building a hundred tanks more important, or building that... 'big guy'?"

This is a question that could cost you your life.

It is also a choice that will determine the fate of the country for decades to come.

The entire audience held their breath, all eyes fixed on He Yuzhu.

He Yuzhu turned to look at the old man, his posture as upright as a pine tree. He knew, of course, who the old man was, and he knew the weight of this question.

"Commander."

He Yuzhu gave an impeccable military salute, his voice as firm and resolute as iron.

"Dignity is never on the negotiating table."

"Truth lies only within the range of cannons."

"But what if it's that 'big guy'..."

He Yuzhu paused, a near-fanatical glint in his eyes. "Its range is the boundary of truth!"

"With just one, we can stand tall and speak to the whole world."

"No, we're just meat on their chopping board!"

"So I choose—the big one!"

"Excellent!" The old man slammed his hand on the table and abruptly stood up. "What a fine boundary of truth!"

The old man strode to the front of the stage, grabbed He Yuzhu's hand, and his eyes were full of admiration and excitement.

"Comrade He Yuzhu, you don't need to attend your class."

"Come with me."

"Where to?" He Yuzhu asked knowingly.

The old man pointed to the northwest and smiled meaningfully.

"Go to a godforsaken place and do something earth-shattering."

He Yuzhu smiled, a bright and cheerful smile.

That was the desert.

That's where the mushroom cloud rose.

That was the stage where he, as a "giant of the times," truly belonged.

He turned his head, glanced at Lin Wanqiu who was still in a daze, and, as if possessed, left behind a sentence:

"Teacher Lin, if you're interested, why don't we go watch the sunset over the desert together?"

Lin Wanqiu was taken aback, a blush suddenly spreading across her cheeks, and she nodded as if possessed.

"it is good."

That year, the winds rose over the great river.

In this year, the dragon raised its head.