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

Huludao Shipyard.

The sea breeze is like a knife, carrying a salty, fishy smell that seeps into your bones.

He Yuzhu squatted by the dry dock, holding half a piece of chalk in his hand, sketching a diagram of the cooling cycle of a nuclear submarine reactor on the cement floor.

The faded military uniform clung to his body in the wind, revealing the lean yet taut muscle lines beneath. He looked like a cast-iron sculpture, frighteningly steady.

"Mr. He, isn't this circuit design a bit too radical?" An elderly man with graying temples, wearing greasy overalls, pushed up his glasses that were about to slip down, his face covered in cold sweat. "If the cooling can't keep up, our shipyard will turn into an underwater nuclear explosion site."

His name is Huang Xuhua, the chief person in charge of the nuclear submarine in this timeline.

Just as He Yuzhu was about to explain, his brow suddenly twitched twice.

That feeling was all too familiar. It was just like that moment back in the day at Chosin Reservoir, amidst piles of corpses, when the enemy's ace sniper's crosshairs were flashed through the airframe.

Palpitations, restlessness, and an uncontrollable surge of violent anger rushed straight to the top of my head.

That was the smell of blood.

"Beep beep beep—!!!"

A piercing alarm shattered the tranquility of the shipyard.

Immediately afterwards, a jeep, like a mad bull, roared into the dock area, its tires screeching against the concrete, emitting a pungent, acrid smell.

Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Marshal Nie's bodyguard, Xiao Wang, jumped out.

Xiao Wang's face was ashen, and he was clutching a top-secret telegram with three red bars printed on it tightly in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

"Mr. He! Marshal Nie's urgent telegram!"

He Yuzhu threw down the chalk in his hand, dusted off his hands, and slowly stood up straight.

Instead of answering the telegram, he took out the crumpled box of "Daqianmen" cigarettes from his pocket, knocked one out, put it in his mouth, and leaned towards Xiao Wang.

"Light it."

Xiao Wang's hands were shaking so badly that he had to strike the fire several times before he could get it going.

He Yuzhu took a deep breath, the pungent smoke swirling in his lungs, which slightly suppressed his murderous urge.

"Tell me, where did the explosion happen?"

"Southwest." Xiao Wang gritted his teeth, his eyes red as if about to bleed. "The Indians have crossed the line. Not only have they crossed the line, but they've also killed our border guards! Now they're amassing a large force in the Kejie Lang River Valley, claiming they're going to... drive us out."

"Oh."

He Yuzhu smiled.

That smile had no warmth whatsoever; instead, it made the surrounding air seem to freeze.

Old Huang, standing nearby, couldn't help but shudder. He was horrified to discover that Chief Engineer He, who had just been so gentle and refined, spouting data, had completely changed his aura.

If he was a scholar just now, now he is facing a hungry tiger that has just opened its eyes, baring its fangs and figuring out where to bite.

"Kick us out?" He Yuzhu flicked his cigarette ash, his gaze fixed southwest, as if piercing through thousands of kilometers to see the snowy plateau. "Nehru must have drunk too much Ganges water; jellyfish must have gotten into his brain!"

He took the telegram and glanced at it.

There was no lengthy explanation above, only a short line:

"The situation in the Southwest is critical; return to Beijing immediately and assume command." — Mao Zedong

There was only one word: "Mao".

It was as heavy as Mount Tai, making it hard to breathe, yet also exhilarating.

He Yuzhu folded the telegram neatly and put it into the pocket close to his heart. He turned around, looked at Old Huang, and his tone returned to calm, but the ruthless and murderous aura he once possessed was still impossible to hide.

"Old Huang, have your men make a mold for the reactor blueprints first. Remember, you must use the special steel formula I gave you; not a single bit less is acceptable."

"Mr. He, where are you going?" Old Huang asked instinctively.

He Yuzhu straightened his collar and meticulously fastened the slightly crooked top button tightly.

"Let's go hunting."

He strode towards the jeep, waved without turning his head, and his back was as imposing as a mountain.

"A few reckless stray dogs came barking at our doorstep. I went and pulled out all their teeth, and while I'm at it, I brought back some 'trophies' for our nuclear submarine as a sacrificial offering!"

"boom--!"

The jeep roared, kicking up clouds of dust, and shot out of the shipyard like an arrow.

In the car, He Yuzhu closed his eyes, and the long-dormant system interface in his mind lit up again, this time with a scarlet light, exuding a bloody aura.

[Ding! Host has triggered an epic war instance: 1962 - The Snowfield Counterattack!]

(Due to the butterfly effect, it was delayed for 4 years)

[Mission Objective: Crush the enemy offensive and secure thirty years of peace! Let the world know who the true king of land warfare is!]

[Check-in location updated: Southwest Front Command Post!]

[Current Status: Killing intent is building up... Max-level account is reconnecting...]

He Yuzhu suddenly opened his eyes, a cold glint flashing in them.

I originally wanted to interact with you as a researcher, but instead you took advantage of me.

Since that's the case, then I'll stop pretending.

The truth has come out.

I, He Laohu, the living Yama who struck fear into the hearts of the seventeen-nation coalition, have returned!