1950s: After transmigrating into a capitalist, I relied on military industry to achieve a comeback.

The jeep bumped along the potholed dirt road for more than two hours before finally stopping at the edge of a high cliff around noon.

Lin Jiaoyue pushed open the car door, and as soon as she stepped down, a cloud of dust billowed up and covered her trouser leg. Looking around, she saw vast fields of wheat cracked open with fissures two fingers wide, due to the lack of rain for over half a month. The wheat seedlings drooped, withered and yellow like bundles of dry firewood.

A dozen or so commune members, dressed in coarse cloth short jackets, were carrying water buckets and walking along the ridge of the field, their breathing laborious.

"Director Zhang, look at God, it seems like He's deliberately trying to deny us any way out."

Farm manager Wang came up to greet us, his lips cracked and peeling from worry.

Lin Jiaoyue took two steps forward and stood on the edge of the cliff, looking down.

Actually, the water is just below. At the bottom of the cliff, more than ten meters deep, there is a river that has shrunk considerably due to the drought, but the flow is still quite strong.

"Isn't this water readily available?" Lu Zheng asked, peering inside.

Director Wang gave a wry smile and pointed to the steep cliff face, which looked as if it had been cleaved by a knife and axe:

"Young comrade, look at this slope. It's straight up and down, without even a blade of grass to put your foot down! It's difficult to climb even empty-handed, let alone carrying buckets of water weighing over 100 pounds uphill. Last month, Old Li slipped and fell down the slope with the buckets, breaking his leg!"

He sighed and pointed east:

"There's no other way but to detour to the shallows two miles away to fetch water. Not only is it a long walk, but the journey is also shaky and bumpy. By the time we get here, half the water in the bucket has spilled out. How can we possibly carry all this water across dozens of acres on our shoulders?"

This is the most hopeless predicament facing agriculture today: water is visible, but it cannot be brought ashore.

"Lu Zheng, unload the truck." Lin Jiaoyue didn't waste any words.

Several soldiers carried the green water pump down and placed it on the flat ground at the edge of the cliff. A thick canvas hose was thrown down the steep slope into the river, which was more than ten meters deep.

Next, an old-fashioned single-cylinder diesel tractor used for plowing the fields was driven over. Lu Zheng skillfully removed the tractor's drive belt and put it on the water pump's pulley.

"Is that all?"

Director Wang stared at the green lump, barely bigger than a water bucket, his eyes filled with suspicion. The commune members fetching water nearby also stopped and began whispering among themselves.

"What is this thing? It doesn't look like a tractor at all."

"This tiny thing can suck up water that's over ten meters deep? You're kidding me."

"Don't let it be city people coming down and causing trouble, delaying our efforts to get water."

Lu Zheng ignored them, gripped the crank handle of the diesel engine, took a deep breath, and cranked it down sharply.

"Click...click..." The diesel engine remained silent.

He gritted his teeth again, the veins on his arms bulging, and shook himself four or five times.

"Bang!"

A thick plume of black smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe, and the diesel engine shook violently, roaring to life. The black belt began to spin rapidly, causing the water pump impeller to emit a sharp whistling sound.

However, five seconds passed, then ten seconds passed.

Nothing happened. The water pipe still lay limply on the cracked clods of earth.

The murmurs among the crowd grew louder.

"I told you it wouldn't work!" The old farmer tapped his pipe, sighed, and picked up his carrying pole again. "What a waste of time. Let's go, let's go. If we don't fetch water soon, this wheat harvest is completely ruined..."

Lin Jiaoyue stood beside the truck, her expression unchanged, but her gaze was fixed on the pipe. She knew that this was the process of a vacuum pump evacuating the air from the pipe.

Director Wang pulled the towel hanging around his neck down and wiped his sweat.

"Director Zhang, what do you think about this matter..."

Before he could finish speaking, the shriveled water hose on the ground suddenly twitched violently.

The originally soft, thick rubber tube suddenly convulsed like a giant python coming to life. Then, the tube bulged visibly, becoming taut and straight!

"Bang—Pfft!"

A powerful jet of water, mixed with white spray, violently gushed out of the pipe!

The water jet was as thick as an adult's calf, drawing a crystal rainbow more than ten meters long in mid-air, and with the momentum of a thousand galloping horses, it shot hard into the dry wheat field!

"Splash—"

The immense impact instantly created a small crater in the ground, splashing mud everywhere. The water, like a burst dam, spread wildly along the dried-up ditches, soaking a large area of ​​withered wheat fields in the blink of an eye.

The entire field ridge fell silent for a second.

Immediately afterwards, a deafening roar erupted!

"Water is coming out! Water is really coming out!"

"My goodness! This water flow is incredibly strong!"

"This isn't pumping water, it's the Dragon King spewing water!"

The previously apathetic commune members went completely mad. No one paid any attention to the carrying poles and buckets lying on the ground; dozens of people scrambled and stumbled towards the gushing water column.

The old farmer who spoke first ran so fast that his knee hit a sharp rock with a "thud." But he seemed not to feel the pain and fell directly to the side of the mud pit that had been washed out by the jet of water.

He desperately tried to scoop up water with his two cracked hands, but the water flowed too fast and all of it leaked through his fingers. In desperation, he simply lowered his head and buried his entire old face directly into the murky muddy water.

"Gulp... gulp..."

He gulped down the cold, muddy water, tears welling up instantly and carving two deep lines down his mud-smeared face. He jerked his head up, a hissing sound like a bellows breaking, and let out a desperate howl:

"There's hope... our crops... they're saved!"

That voice, filled with endless bitterness, grievances, and long-suppressed ecstasy, was like a rusty knife, scraping harshly against the eardrums of everyone present.

The surrounding commune members laughed and cried, letting the icy river water soak their coarse cloth clothes.

Lin Jiaoyue stood a dozen meters away, silently watching the almost insane scene before her.

The wind carried the damp, earthy smell, ruffling her hair. She instinctively clutched the hem of her clothes, a burning, sour feeling rising deep in her throat.

Before today, she had developed an air defense system capable of destroying bombers and created the "Dongfeng" missile that could pulverize enemy planes. Those magnificent and powerful weapons, capable of changing the fate of the nation, filled her with boiling passion and the pride of an engineer.

But even now, looking at the old farmer kneeling in the mud, holding a mouthful of muddy water, crying and laughing at the same time; looking at those ordinary people who, because of a small water pump, have straightened their backs again from despair.

She suddenly realized that nothing she had done before was as impactful as this unassuming green metal object in front of her.

Technology should never be just cold, hard data and killing.

It can moisten parched land, revive withered crops, and ensure that the most hardworking and simple people have food, water, and the ability to survive in dire straits.

This is the most fundamental meaning of her coming here across time and space as an engineer from a major company.