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

Just as she swallowed that mouthful of tasteless meat.

"Tap, tap, tap."

Suddenly, rhythmic footsteps echoed outside the hanging flower gate.

The next second, Zhao Tiezhu's perpetually icy face appeared like a ghost outside the threshold of the main room. He didn't step inside, but instead stood ramrod straight, raised his hand in a military salute, and spoke in a completely flat voice:

"Engineer Lin, Director Zhang is here."

Before the words had even finished, a series of hurried, almost pounding footsteps came from outside the door. Then, Director Zhang's booming, piercing voice abruptly shattered the tranquility of the courtyard as he stormed into the house:

"Jiaoyue! Haha! You're home! I could smell the meat from right at the alley entrance! Old Lin, sister-in-law, do you mind if I shamelessly come over and add a pair of chopsticks today?!"

Director Zhang arrived before he did, his voice preceding him, and with an irresistible enthusiasm, he strode into the Lin family courtyard.

Lin Hongsheng had already stood up. He glanced discreetly at the briefcase that Director Zhang was clutching tightly under his arm, a quick glint of understanding flashing in his eyes.

"Oh, it's Director Zhang! Please come in, please come in!" Su Wanqing said warmly while wiping her hands on her apron. "Don't mention freeloading. You're a distinguished guest. I'll cook you a couple more dishes."

"No, no, no, sister-in-law, please don't bother!"

Director Zhang quickly stopped her, took two deep breaths of the aroma of the food in the room, and moved closer to the dining table with a look of pure bliss.

"I could smell it from the alleyway! The boiled cabbage at the General Administration canteen was making my mouth taste bitter, and I was just hoping your cooking would save me. Don't even mention this glistening plate of braised pork; even your simple stir-fried vegetables or smashed cucumber would be a hundred times better than anything the chefs at the state-run restaurants have made! With all this on the table, I can eat to my heart's content!"

Without any hesitation, he took the bowl and chopsticks from Lin Jiaoyue, picked up the chopsticks, and headed straight for the dining table.

The meal was unusually strange.

Director Zhang ate three bowls of white rice in a row. The glistening broth mixed with the rice balls, which he shoveled into his mouth like a whirlwind. No one spoke; the only sound in the room was the crisp clinking of chopsticks against the rim of the rough porcelain bowls.

Lin Jiaoyue picked out a piece of fish belly meat with the fewest bones and chewed it carefully.

In the past three years, Director Zhang has only come to the Lin family for meals a handful of times. And each time, it was never like today—his eyes were dark from staying up all night, the veins on the back of his hand were taut, and even his chewing motions had a hint of gritted teeth.

He praised Su Wanqing's cooking skills, but the way he ate with his chopsticks made it seem as if he wasn't chewing meat, but someone's bones.

There must be a demon in the abnormal situation.

This meal probably won't be that delicious.

Sure enough, after finishing the third bowl of rice, Director Zhang put his chopsticks on the empty bowl, took out the pen from his chest pocket, and lowered his voice as if he were reaching for a handkerchief.

"Jiaoyue, how have you been doing at the institute these past three years?"

coming.

Lin Jiaoyue paused slightly, spat the fish bones into the bone dish, and slowly wiped her mouth with a towel.

"It's great. I draw and improve blueprints every day, read the newspaper, and leave work on time. I guess even the retired senior staff in the institute don't have as comfortable a life as I do."

"Haha, you silly girl." Director Zhang chuckled dryly, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Isn't this to let you rest and recuperate? A few years ago, during the '541 Project,' you wore yourself out to the bone. The organization felt sorry for you and gave you a long leave, which is only right."

He paused, then suddenly leaned forward slightly, instantly revealing the imposing aura of a soldier:

"But... isn't it time to end this vacation?"

Lin Hongsheng's chopsticks, which were picking up peanuts, paused for a moment in mid-air.

"Look at what you're saying. I'm just a salaried technician, and I follow the organization's arrangements."

Lin Jiaoyue picked up the warm water beside her and took a sip.

"However, Institute 909 is now teeming with talent. Song Siming and Lu Zheng could draw up blueprints with their eyes closed. For ordinary tasks, there's no need for an 'old cadre' like me to come out of retirement, right?"

"Why would I stoop so low as to bother you with something as mundane as a regular job?"

Director Zhang slapped his thigh and frantically tried to pull the zipper off his briefcase. Perhaps in his haste, the zipper got stuck on the edge of the leather. He pulled twice before finally managing to pull out a yellow kraft paper bag, which he then slammed heavily onto the dining table.

"See for yourself."

The bag was sealed with thick thread, and a bright red sealing wax stamp was pressed on top.

The moment Lin Hongsheng's gaze fell upon the two bolded "Top Secret" words, the polite smile on his face vanished instantly. Without asking a single question, he stood up and casually picked up the rag draped over the back of the chair.

"Wanqing, those delicate flowers in the backyard should be moved inside; it's going to frost tonight. Let's go."

Before Su Wanqing could react, her husband grabbed her wrist and half-pushed her to the backyard. The wooden door to the main room creaked shut, sealing it tightly so that not even a breath of air could get in.

Soon, only Lin Jiaoyue and Director Zhang remained in the dining room.

Lin Jiaoyue didn't touch the document immediately. She simply pushed the empty bowl in front of her aside and looked at Director Zhang.

"Director Zhang, there's no one else at home. What could have happened that warranted you bringing top-secret documents and personally coming to this dinner?"

Director Zhang gave a bitter smile, and the last bit of feigned ease on his face completely vanished.

"Jiaoyue, you deserve the most credit for the changes in our country over the past three years." His voice was deep and hoarse.

"Thanks to your converter steelmaking method, steel production tripled. Grain production increased. More importantly, that radio brought us a huge amount of foreign exchange."

"Isn't this a good thing?"

"It's a good thing. But it's also a death knell!" A frightening redness appeared in Director Zhang's eyes. "We're well-fed, we've made money, we've built up a fortune! Those people across the ocean will never be able to sleep a wink!"

"This is a top-secret trump card that Shen Yanzhou risked his life to bring back from across the ocean." Director Zhang's knuckles pressed tightly against the brown paper bag, his fingernails turning white. "Just half a month ago, the core underwater launch technology of the 'Polaris' submarine-launched ballistic missile successfully completed its secret sea trial!"

Lin Jiaoyue's fingers, which had been resting on the edge of the table, paused slightly. A fleeting look of surprise flashed in her eyes, and her brows furrowed slightly.

"The sea trial was successful just two weeks ago? But I only heard on foreign media broadcasts ten minutes ago that the Pentagon just issued an order to 'fully accelerate research and development'..."

"That's why they're so insidious!" Director Zhang gritted his teeth, slamming his rough hand onto the paper bag with a "bang."

"All the news you've heard is just a strategic smokescreen they're using to mislead the outside world! On the surface, they pretend to be just getting started, putting on a show to scare people, but behind the scenes, their knives are already sharpened!"