Searching for someone in northern Myanmar, and you call that earning tuition fees?

Security Department, Jiangnan University, duty room.

The goji berry water in the thermos was steaming. Old Zhao sat with his legs crossed, engrossed in reading a copy of "Zhiyin" magazine.

The door was pushed open.

A gust of wind carrying the chill of the snow-capped mountains and the stench of blood swept in, shattering the tranquility of the duty room.

Old Zhao looked up and was so startled that he dropped the copy of "Zhiyin" magazine from his hand.

The man who came in had a stubble beard, sunken eyes, and his windbreaker looked like it had been pulled from a garbage dump, with an unidentified black stain on the left cuff.

"Damn it, go beg for food at the back door of the canteen, the security office doesn't give out steamed buns." Old Zhao subconsciously reached for his police baton.

The man raised his head, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes.

"It's me... Lao Zhao, could you give me a cup of hot water with two goji berries? Thank you."

His voice was hoarse, as if he had swallowed two pounds of sand.

Old Zhao squinted for a long time, then leaned closer to sniff, before tentatively asking, "Old Li? Did you... fall into a septic tank? No, wait, the smell is mixed with face cream... Were you kidnapped by a rich woman to mine coal?"

Li Changfeng ignored him, walked straight to the water dispenser, filled a glass with cold water, and gulped it down. The icy water flowed down his throat into his stomach, and only then did the feeling of being alive slowly return.

He slumped into the chair and let out a long sigh.

Old Zhao picked up the magazine and asked with a gossipy look, "Where's Su Ming? I saw him leave with you. Did he not come back? Did you sell him out?"

"He's in the cafeteria," Li Changfeng said with his eyes closed. "He's eating braised pork."

"You still have braised pork at this price?"

"Let the master chef make it fresh, after all..." Li Changfeng paused, as if he wanted to say something but swallowed it back, "Never mind, you wouldn't understand."

After all, that kid had just used a metal box to take them on a near-death drift down a 60-degree snow slope, almost sending them flying out of the solar system. Forget braised pork, even if Su Ming wanted dragon meat right now, Li Changfeng would find a way to get him one from the sea.

The red secure phone on the table rang.

The ringtone was urgent and piercing.

Li Changfeng sat up straight instantly, his eyes regaining their military sharpness. He grabbed the microphone.

"I am Li Changfeng."

An aged yet authoritative voice came from the other end of the phone, filled with barely concealed urgency: "Changfeng, this is Xishan. Has the stuff arrived?"

"Reporting to the commander, the equipment has been safely handed over to the research institute and is currently undergoing constant temperature and dehumidification treatment."

"Good! Excellent!" The old general's voice softened. "Although this mission was fraught with difficulties, the result was good! I want to give you a major commendation!"

Li Changfeng's lips twitched slightly: "Sir, I don't want this credit. I want to apply for a work-related injury claim."

"Nonsense! Where are you hurt? Is it psychological trauma? You seem quite energetic, even trying to outsmart the organization!" The old general chuckled and scolded, then his tone turned serious. "I roughly understand the situation, but there are some details that the operations staff are arguing about endlessly, and they just can't figure it out. Tell me about it."

Li Changfeng glanced at Old Zhao, who was eavesdropping beside him.

Li Changfeng took a deep breath and gritted his teeth: "Old Zhao, if you're so bored, go and get those two stray dogs outside spayed/neutered."

Old Zhao felt a chill run down his neck and quickly grabbed his teacup and slipped away, muttering under his breath, "These days, leaders really dare to assign any kind of task."

After the door closed, Li Changfeng spoke into the microphone: "Sir, please ask."

"Regarding the 'Kite Decapitation Operation,' the General Staff said you used the latest nano-wire cutting drones? Why aren't they on the equipment list?"

Li Changfeng was silent for two seconds: "Report, it's not a drone. It's a kite. The kind that old men and women fly in the park."

There was a five-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"What about the wire? Nanomaterials?"

"It's just Dyneema fishing line bought from the supermarket, reimbursed by the security department."

A brief dial tone came from the other end of the phone, and Li Changfeng strongly suspected that the old general had gone to take his blood pressure medication.

After a long while, the old general's voice came again, trembling with a hint of existential doubt: "Then... what about that 'light-focused strike'? Was the refraction angle adjusted using satellites?"

"No." Li Changfeng stared blankly at the ceiling. "It was a piece of ice. Su Ming ground the ice into a convex lens and burned through the ice pillar."

"..."

"And then there's the final 'rapid breakthrough'," the old general's voice was already weak, "Did you use the individual soldier's exoskeleton thrusters?"

"It's an iron box."

Dead silence.

If it weren't for the audible static, Li Changfeng would have thought the telephone line had been cut.

After a long silence, the old general sighed, "Changfeng, tell me the truth. That Su Ming... is he really from some hidden sect?"

"Sir, he is a first-year student in the Finance Department of Jiangnan University, minoring in Physics. His records are clean."

"Alright, that's enough," the old general interrupted him. "If this report is submitted, I think those old pedants in the operations department will all resign. This matter is classified as top secret and sealed."

"Yes."

"Also, Comrade Su Ming has made a great contribution this time. Although he can't be publicly commended, the organization won't treat him unfairly." The old general's tone softened. "Ask him what kind of reward he wants? A bonus? A household registration? Or a recommendation for graduate school?"

Li Changfeng tightened his grip on the microphone.

He recalled Su Ming's half-dead state on the plane, and how he was now enjoying a plate of braised pork.

"Sir, he mentioned it on the way back just now."

"Oh? You're asking for an exorbitant amount?"

Li Changfeng swallowed hard and said with difficulty, "He said... could you reserve that window seat on the second floor of the library for him, so that no one else can take it? That's his prime spot for memorizing vocabulary."

Silence fell again on the other end of the phone.

This time the silence lasted even longer.

"...That's it? Didn't he ask you for a carrier strike group to use as a school bus?"

"Uh...that's it."

"Save it for him!" The old general's voice boomed like thunder. "Don't even mention a seat, make sure an entire floor is cleared for him! This kind of talent deserves the nation's guarantee of his right to focus on memorizing vocabulary! We absolutely cannot let something as trivial as the CET-6 exam hinder his ability to serve the country!"

Li Changfeng hung up the phone and rubbed his throbbing temples.

The door opened, and Old Zhao poked his head in.

"Director Li, we've caught the dogs, two males, both quite strong. But we can't find the scalpel. Do you think we can use the kitchen knife from the cafeteria?"

Some people are using kite strings to fight enemies in the snowy mountains, while others are worrying about the testicles of their two dogs.

And the culprit is probably wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth right now, thinking about which unit of vocabulary to memorize for tomorrow.