You are ordered to support the War of Resistance against Japan; China enters Level 1 combat readines

Shen Wang took in everyone's reactions and smiled slightly.

He placed the teacup on the table, the porcelain cup making a crisp, clear sound as it touched the surface, which was particularly distinct in the suddenly quiet hall.

Where is this?

He looked up, his gaze passing through the glass curtain wall, over the layers of factories and streets of Zhicheng outside the window, and landing on the horizon in the distance, where the sunset had dyed the sea a golden-red.

Have you ever seen a black and white television?

Have you ever played with a portable tape recorder?

Have you ever played Tetris?

Have you ever used the Windows operating system?

Have you ever seen the industrial design of a Mac?

These terms, which may sound like something out of a fairy tale to you, were everyday occurrences for every ordinary person in my time.

Today we're selling you luncheon meat and stockings, what about tomorrow? The day after?

When refrigerators, washing machines, and microwave ovens are placed in front of you, what else can you buy?

Shen Wang withdrew his gaze and looked at the group of bandits in front of him who had just emptied the national treasury but were still congratulating themselves on their gains. His eyes curved slightly.

No rush, take your time.

You have plundered the world for hundreds of years, and blasted open the doors of countless countries with guns and cannons.

Now, it's my turn to reap the rewards.

We will use goods, technology, and lifestyles you've never even seen before to take back the gold you've stolen from the world, bit by bit, with interest.

Morgan looked at the faint smile on Shen Wang's lips and felt a strange unease for the first time.

He felt like he had overlooked something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

He had never felt this way before at the negotiating table on Wall Street. Even though the contract had been signed, the price had been agreed upon, and the profit had been calculated, he still felt uncertain.

He turned to look at White, who was also looking at Shen Wang with a similarly complicated expression.

Sir George stood to one side, leaning on his cane, his gaze shifting back and forth between Shen Wang and the unfamiliar Eastern city outside the window, remaining silent.

Everyone felt that this city, this country, and this smiling Eastern merchant standing before them were not quite what they had imagined before they came.

But they couldn't quite put their finger on what was different.

Perhaps it's not because the other person has changed, but because they've realized that their perspective on the other person is no longer one of looking down from above.

……

2025, Handong.

When Lin Wanqing walked out of Jingzhou Department Store in her high heels, even the evening breeze felt sweet.

She glanced back at the brightly lit building in the night, unable to suppress the smile on her face.

Deputy section chief level.

Lin Wanqing, an ordinary graduate of a second-tier university, an unknown figure with no roots or connections in Jingzhou, actually became a deputy section-level cadre.

This was something we wouldn't have dared to even imagine before.

What secretly pleased her the most was the incredible expressions on the faces of everyone around her throughout the day.

When the appointment notice came down this morning, the atmosphere in the cleaning department office was more dramatic than a TV drama.

Director Zhang's face changed drastically—from the initial arrogance of slamming the table and scolding people, to the astonishment when Minister Wang announced the appointment, and finally to the deathly paleness when it was confirmed that she had truly become the vice minister. Lin Wanqing felt she could savor that change of expression for a whole year.

He stammered, "Minister Lin, Minister Lin," his voice trembling.

The person who was just yelling about giving her a demerit was now bowing and scraping as he pulled up a chair for her and asked if she wanted some tea.

And those cleaning ladies.

Just two days ago, Aunt Li was criticizing Director Zhang for being "cunning and sly" and "a young girl with a fickle mind." Upon hearing the appointment, she dropped the rag in her hand to the ground.

It took me a long time to come to my senses, and then my whole attitude changed.

First, he sneaked over when no one was looking and slipped her an orange, saying it was sent from his hometown and he wanted her to try it.

In the afternoon, she also took the initiative to clean the cubicles she was in charge of, saying, "Minister Lin, you can rest. We'll do these rough jobs."

The most outrageous thing was that in the afternoon, the marketing department even sent people over.

The person who arrived was none other than Xiao Li, who had once joined Sister Zhang in making sarcastic remarks about her.

Xiao Li stood at the entrance of the cleaning department, holding a cup of milk tea in her hand, with a fawning smile on her face, and her voice was eight octaves lower than before.

"Sister Wanqing... oh no, Minister Lin, Sister Zhang asked me to come and see you, and also to ask when you're free. Our marketing department would like to invite you to dinner to celebrate."

Lin Wanqing almost lost her composure at that moment.

Sister Zhang?

The Zhang sister who once said she "rose to power by using her breasts"?

The one who led the isolation against her in the group chat, Sister Zhang?

Are they sending someone to invite her to dinner now?

She replied casually, "I just took office recently, so I'm quite busy. Let's talk about it when I have time." Then, watching Xiao Li's embarrassed retreating figure, she felt only one word in her heart—satisfying.

That was fucking awesome.

No wonder everyone wants to climb up the ladder.

The feeling of power can indeed be addictive.

Li wasn't the only one from the marketing department.

As evening approached and she was about to leave work, her former neighbor from the marketing department, Sister Wang, sent her a message, her tone as warm as if she were a long-lost sister.

"Wanqing, congratulations! I knew you'd amount to something. Everyone in our department is just jealous! By the way, are you free this weekend? I'll treat you to Haidilao!"

Lin Wanqing smiled at her phone screen and replied with a "We'll see" emoji.

Then she stuffed her phone into her bag, put on her high heels, and walked out of the building with her head held high.

The evening breeze brushed against her cheeks, and she took a deep breath.

So this is what it feels like to be fawned over.

……

When Lin Wanqing got home, before she could even change into her slippers, she was momentarily stunned by the scene on the sofa.

Gao Lan remained in the same unchanging posture, lying horizontally on the sofa with one arm behind her head and the other hand holding her phone while scrolling through short videos.

She was still wearing that loose-fitting silk slip dress, a dusty pink color, the fabric so thin it was like a layer of mist, clinging softly to her body.

Her bra strap had long since slipped down to her elbows, revealing a large expanse of her snow-white shoulders and neck, as well as her two delicate collarbones. Yet, she was completely too lazy to tug at it, letting the scene sway dizzily under the lights.

But what really caught the eye were those long legs resting on the sofa armrest.

Straight, long, and so white it almost reflects light.

Her thighs are full but not bulky, and her calves are slender but not bony, with a smooth line from the root of her thighs to her ankles.

Her kneecaps were rounded and small, and her ankles were so slender that they seemed to be able to be held in one hand.

The ten toenails were painted with cherry red nail polish, which shimmered with a lustrous sheen under the warm yellow light.

She casually swung her toes, her fair legs bobbing in the air, so captivating that it was hard to look away.

Lin Wanqing sometimes felt that God was really unfair.

Gao Lan rarely goes out, doesn't exercise, and doesn't diet. She spends all day lounging on the sofa scrolling through her phone and eating takeout, yet her legs remain perfectly still in this incredibly irritating state.

The men pursuing her lined up from the entrance of her residential compound to the subway station. Just the backup suitors in her WeChat Moments who called her "goddess" were enough to fill a mahjong table with a few substitutes.

She occasionally posts a photo of her legs wearing black stockings on Douyin, and it gets over 10,000 likes.

Some people even sent her private messages asking if her legs were insured, or if she sold her stockings.

"My dear Wanqing, you're back?"