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

Sixty years later. A courtyard house in a retirement home in Beijing.

The autumn sun shone warmly on the grape trellis.

On the wicker chair lay an elderly woman with gray hair, yet still remarkably spry. She wore a stylish pair of black-rimmed reading glasses and was holding a brand-new holographic tablet, swiping back and forth.

"Jiaojiao, stop looking at that screen, it's bad for your eyes!"

A robust old man's voice came from the kitchen. Immediately afterward, Gao Jianguo came out carrying a plate of braised pork. Although the old man was nearly ninety, he was still as strong as a bear, only his eyebrows were completely white.

"Old Gao, save your breath." Song Siming, who was fiddling with a miniature purple clay teapot on the stone table next to him, pushed up his glasses. "Your braised pork is only passable compared to what Aunt Su used to make. It's a favor that Lin Meizi ate two pieces."

"Get lost!" Gao Jianguo glared at him. "This is an improved version! Low-sugar, low-fat! What do you know, you old bookworm!"

"Alright, alright, you two are almost two hundred years old combined, why are you still bickering every day?"

Lin Jiaoyue put down her tablet and looked at her two old comrades with a smile.

At that moment, the courtyard gate was pushed open.

An elderly man, with a straight posture and wearing a gray jacket, walked in. He was carrying two boxes of newly harvested Chilean cherries. Although his face was covered with deep wrinkles, his eyes were still as sharp as a hawk's.

He walked straight to Lin Jiaoyue's side, put down the fruit without a word, and then skillfully took out a small knife and began to peel the apple. The peel was cut in one continuous line, thin and even, just like the precision he used to achieve when cleaning his gun.

"Chen Mo, stop spoiling her," Gao Jianguo muttered. "This old lady secretly ordered a full-sugar bubble tea yesterday, and the delivery guy was stopped at the door by Xiao Zhao's grandson!"

"I'd love to." Chen Mo didn't even look up as he handed the peeled apple to Lin Jiaoyue, his voice still as stern and taciturn as ever. "If she wants to eat it, I'll go buy it."

Lin Jiaoyue took the apple, took a bite, and found it crisp and sweet.

She looked at her old buddies. Lu Zheng had just flown to the Northwest yesterday to attend the rollout ceremony of the new generation space shuttle; Director Zhang had passed away a few years ago, clutching that tattered blueprint for converter steelmaking tightly in his hand when he died.

Her parents, Lin Hongsheng and Su Wanqing, had also peacefully closed their eyes in this peaceful and prosperous era. When they passed away, Lin Hongsheng was most proud not of his high-ranking official position, but of the fact that his "Panda" brand radio could receive signals sent back by the lunar rover.

"Beep—"

Lin Jiaoyue's tablet sent a news notification.

Gao Jianguo leaned over and took a look:

"Hey, our new generation 'Loongson Universe' quantum chip has been released? Those little bastards did a good job."

"Yes." Song Siming picked up his teacup, gazed at the sky, and a glint of tears welled up in his cloudy eyes. "In the blink of an eye, so many years have passed. Back when we were grinding glass in the air-raid shelter, who could have imagined today..."

Lin Jiaoyue didn't speak; she just smiled and turned to look outside the courtyard wall.

Her gaze seemed to pierce through the high walls of this small courtyard and fly towards a wider world.

In the distance, the city's silhouette gleamed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Countless skyscrapers rise from the ground, their glass curtain walls reflecting dazzling light. The overpasses are bustling with traffic, shimmering with light, like endless rivers of light, presenting a magnificent scene of prosperity.

In a holographic shop window on the street, a giant screen is playing my country's latest manned lunar landing program.

In the park by the roadside, children held the latest domestically produced holographic game consoles, running and laughing carefree on the lawn.

In the sky, a domestically produced large civil airliner with completely independent intellectual property rights is streaking across the azure sky, leaving a long white contrail.

This prosperous era is like oil being poured over a raging fire, like flowers in full bloom.

In this prosperous era, even the air is filled with a kind of composure called "confidence".

Lin Jiaoyue leaned back in the rattan chair and slowly closed her eyes.

Isn't this the era before she traveled through time, the one that made her work overtime like crazy, yet one she also deeply missed?

After decades of twists and turns, she used her entire life to pull the progress bar of history back to the point she knew best.

All of this stems from that earth-shattering "Dongfeng" announcement decades ago; it stems from that era when even food was scarce, and from that group of madmen who would go blind for a single statistic.

That was a generation that used their youth, passion, and even lives to lay the foundation brick by brick on this impoverished ruin, bringing about a beautiful future for the country and for future generations.

Their stories may not be written in glamorous textbooks.

Perhaps, the names Lin Jiaoyue, Chen Mo, Song Siming, Gao Jianguo, Zhao Tiezhu... will forever remain sealed away in top-secret, yellowed files, unknown to anyone.

But what does it matter?

Their achievements have long since transformed into the relentlessly running high-speed rail, the sharp sword piercing the sky, and the peace and tranquility of countless homes illuminated by lights.

It has long been integrated into the blood of this country and is deeply engraved on the immortal monument of the great rejuvenation of the Chinese nation.

"Jiaojiao, what are you thinking about so intently?" Gao Jianguo asked, chewing on his meat, his words muffled.

Lin Jiaoyue opened her eyes, looked at the sunlight filling the courtyard, and saw Chen Mo silently handing her a tissue. A bright smile appeared on her lips.

"I didn't see anything," she said softly, her voice filled with endless relief and pride. "I just thought... the weather is really nice today."

(End of the book)