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

According to gossip from people in the bureau, the woman's family is very well-off, her parents are both highly educated, and the girl herself is bold and passionate, constantly finding ways to deliver meals to the entrance of the 909 police station.

This also reflects that the national economy has recovered in the past three years, people have hope for the future, and even the way urban girls pursue young men has become much bolder and more open-minded than in previous years.

Back then, the four of them ate sand together in the Gobi Desert of Northwest China and stayed up all night studying together in the training class. Now, Gao Jianguo is holding his daughter and laughing foolishly, while Song Siming is being cornered at the door by a girl who is handing him a love letter.

When you think about it, it turns out that only she and Chen Mo are still single at an advanced age.

Lately, whenever Director Zhang sees her and Chen Mo standing side by side, his eyes always carry a knowing, meaningful look, as if he secretly wishes he could just tie the two of them together with a steel cable.

In fact, Lin Jiaoyue is not slow-witted.

How could she be completely unaware of that man's constant, restrained, and profound protection over the years, and his resounding words back then, "I don't ask where you came from"?

But when she was so openly teased by outsiders, and when she recalled Chen Mo's deep eyes that were always quietly watching her, her mind, which could calculate the most complex ballistic data, would become an unprecedented mess.

It felt as if something soft had gently touched her heart, stirring a subtle and unsettling feeling that she couldn't quite grasp.

She was lost in thought, wondering how she should naturally face that guy the next time they met...

"Oh, you old codger, are you got cotton stuffed in your ears?! Can't you hear me calling you for dinner? Has that black box stolen your soul?!"

Su Wanqing's loud scolding in the main room, along with the crisp sound of chopsticks tapping on a white porcelain bowl, immediately interrupted Lin Jiaoyue's drifting and slightly disordered thoughts.

Lin Jiaoyue shook her hand, lifted the curtain, and peeked into the inner room.

Lin Hongsheng was wearing a finely crafted dark blue jacket with a Chinese knot button, and his reading glasses, which he used to read newspapers, were loosely perched on his nose. He was lying comfortably on the armchair next to the long table, his eyes slightly closed.

The brand-new "Panda" radio on the table was turned up quite loud, its rich, resonant voice echoing throughout the room. No wonder he couldn't hear anything from the outer room.

This extremely sought-after radio was one that Lin Jiaoyue had intercepted from the first batch of special supply lines a while ago and brought back specifically as a gift for him.

Right now, the radio's vacuum tubes are glowing with a soft orange light. From the speakers, a male voice with a proper announcer's tone is delivering international news briefs in a clear and precise manner.

Lin Hongsheng couldn't understand a single word of foreign language.

But he sat imposingly in his armchair, occasionally nodding slowly and seriously in sync with the broadcast, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he were negotiating with someone across the ocean.

"Dad, if we keep listening like this, the food will get cold, and Mom is going to smash the bowl!"

Lin Jiaoyue walked over and gently tapped the walnut wood casing of the radio twice.

"Huh? Oh!"

Lin Hongsheng then seemed to snap out of his daze, hurriedly took off his reading glasses, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe them, and pointed at the radio with lingering interest.

"Hey, Jiaojiao, listen to this! How come the sound from this black box is so clear, there's not a single bit of background noise? What was that foreigner muttering about? Cuba? Is another war about to break out?"

"It's not that easy to fight. They just stand there, brandishing their stances and trying to intimidate each other."

Lin Jiaoyue offered a casual reassurance and turned to get the bowls and chopsticks.

"Don't play dumb with me, you little brat."

Lin Hongsheng pursed his lips, quickly got up, and followed his daughter to the dining table, lowering his voice.

"No, Dad still wonders. It's just a wooden box wrapped in iron, with no gold bars inside, and the accounts reported by the Ministry of Foreign Trade... Did those foreign devils really willingly spend so much real gold and silver to buy it?"

Lin Hongsheng is now the deputy director of the Finance Department of the Ordnance Industry Bureau. Although he is not directly involved in the operation, he still gets nervous every month when he sees the huge amount of foreign exchange income reported by the foreign trade department.

He still can't understand how such a simple, noisy box could swindle so much money from foreigners.

"What else can we do? Rob them?" Lin Jiaoyue pulled out a stool, sat down, picked up a piece of braised pork with her chopsticks, and said casually, "Good stuff, plus they can't make it themselves, so they have to accept being ripped off. That's called a technological barrier."

"Technology...barrier. Tsk, that word sounds impressive." Lin Hongsheng clicked his tongue in satisfaction, picked up the small wine cup in front of him and took a sip. "That's good, being able to extract money from foreigners, you got that brain of mine."

Lin Hongsheng nodded, a proud smile on his face.

A family of three sat around an octagonal table. A dim light shone overhead, and steaming white rice and braised pork sat on the table. The radio was turned down, becoming a soothing background noise.

Looking at the few strands of white hair that had appeared at Su Wanqing's temples, and listening to the sound of someone dumping coal ash in the alley outside the window, Lin Jiaoyue felt that the restlessness of modern people in her heart had finally been completely soothed by the warmth of home life over the past three years.

She enjoys this kind of life full of everyday warmth.

If she could, she would even wish that such days could continue forever.

However, she also knew in her heart that beneath this tranquility, undercurrents were surging.

The male radio announcer's voice continued:

"...According to a special Pentagon briefing, in response to the Soviet Union's successful launch of the first artificial satellite and its demonstration of intercontinental ballistic missile capabilities, the highest levels of the U.S. government have officially issued a presidential directive to accelerate the development and strategic deployment of the Polaris submarine-launched ballistic missile. Military observers pessimistically point out that this steel behemoth, capable of hiding deep in the ocean and launching a devastating nuclear strike from underwater at any time, will trigger a new wave of arms races and completely shatter the existing strategic balance between East and West..."

Lin Jiaoyue's chopsticks stopped in mid-air.

The braised pork that was already placed in my mouth suddenly lost all its appeal.

The room was quiet. Lin Hongsheng was still talking to Su Wanqing about tomorrow's food coupons, and no one noticed their daughter's unusual behavior.

Lin Jiaoyue didn't move. She simply put the piece of meat into her mouth very slowly and gently, chewing at twice the speed of usual. Her gaze went beyond the steaming dining table, beyond the low brick wall of the courtyard, and towards the thick, impenetrable darkness outside.

Soviet satellites were launched.

Intercontinental ballistic missile.

Deep-sea nuclear deterrence.

These few cold words, like steel needles tempered with ice, pierced into this warm room filled with the warmth of everyday life without warning.

She was acutely aware of the terrifying threat that would be posed to the country’s long and undefended coastline once the ghostly submarine-launched nuclear weapon “Polaris” was put into service.

She knew that the comfort she had gained over the past three years, thanks to the radio and the water pump, was finally over.

Some battles, if you don't fight them, others will put the nuclear button right in your head.