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

If Lin Jiaoyue during the day is an "amazing technical talent," then after 7 p.m., she becomes an inescapable nightmare for the three grown men in dormitory 117.

"Tap, tap, tap!"

A broken pencil struck the tattered blackboard, like a blow to the top of someone's head. Chalk dust fell in a flurry, blinding everyone.

Inside the storage room, the tin stove was burning red-hot, and the air was so hot it was suffocating.

"You're not getting any results here. Are you planning to use abacus beads to block enemy tanks on the battlefield later?"

Lin Jiaoyue sat in the slightly wobbly chair, holding an enamel mug in her hands.

Steam rose from the cylinder opening, and the sweet aroma of red dates and goji berries seemed out of place in this room filled with the smell of engine oil.

She was wrapped in a military overcoat, her face flushed pink by the firelight, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling. She looked soft, sweet, and innocent, like a girl next door who hadn't fully grown up yet.

But in the eyes of Gao Jianguo, a tall Shandong man standing at 1.85 meters, this was no younger sister at all; she was clearly a living Yama in disguise!

In the corner, Gao Jianguo curled up into a ball, looking like a wronged brown bear.

Sweat streamed down his strong chin, and the draft paper in his hand was soaked through and torn in several places.

"Teacher Lin... Teacher Lin..."

Gao Jianguo's voice trembled, tinged with a desperate sob: "My brain is made of cast iron! This Laplace transform... it keeps changing and changing, it's making my soul disappear!"

"pig iron?"

Lin Jiaoyue didn't even lift her eyelids, gently blowing away the foam on the tea, her tone languid yet as cold as ice:

"Pig iron has a high carbon content, so it's a bit brittle, but it can be melted down and remelted into steel. I'm just afraid you're a hopeless case."

Her gaze shifted, sweeping across the other side like a razor's edge: "Song Siming, tell him that not being able to calculate this step means what?"

Song Siming was frantically calculating by the light of the stove fire when he heard this. He pushed up his glasses, which had slipped off his nose, and without looking up, his pen left afterimages on the paper:

"The mechanical fuses of Soviet-style rocket launchers are sluggish at low temperatures, with a misfire rate as high as 15%. This step is to work with the new grease from Lin Gong to calculate a new spring torque formula, locking the delay error within 0.05 seconds."

The pen stopped abruptly, and Song Siming looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"Old Gao, those 0.05 seconds could mean the life of a volunteer soldier."

The air inside the room froze instantly.

Gao Jianguo opened his mouth, and the shame in that instant turned his dark red face into a purplish-red.

"Can't figure it out?"

Lin Jiaoyue put down the enamel mug and fumbled in the drawer with her fingertips for a moment.

"Snapped!"

An oil paper package was casually tossed on the table.

The paper package unwrapped, and an extremely strong aroma of meat instantly filled the cramped room.

It was neatly cut squares of air-dried beef, with a glossy, dark reddish-brown color. The marbling was clear, the meat was firm, and the surface was covered with translucent fat particles.

In this era where even white flour buns are eaten sparingly, this bag of pure meat is more dazzling than gold.

"Gulp."

Three perfectly synchronized swallowing sounds.

Even Chen Mo, who was in the corner seemingly frozen in place, wiping his military dagger, froze in his tracks. His lifeless eyes were fixed on the table, and his Adam's apple bobbed violently.

Gao Jianguo's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. The pain he had just endured from Laplace vanished instantly, leaving only that crimson red image throbbing wildly in his mind.

meat!

That's meat!

"Ten minutes."

Lin Jiaoyue raised an eyebrow, a deceptively wicked smile playing on her lips, like the serpent tempting Eve:

"If you solve this problem, the meat is yours. If you can't, Chen Mo and I will split it."

"Let's give it our all!!"

A low, beast-like growl.

Gao Jianguo seemed to have been injected with some kind of berserk drug, grabbing a pen and tearing the draft paper to shreds. His ferocious, teeth-gritting expression didn't look like he was sitting at a table solving problems, but rather like he was fighting a knife battle with his subordinates on the battlefield.

"Song Glasses! Which way are you taking your elbow?! Don't block my view!"

"Old Gao, are you crazy! Don't push me!" Song Siming muttered to himself, protecting his draft paper, "I'm going to win this one..."

Just as the two were arguing amongst themselves.

A dark figure stood up silently.

Chen Mo put down the military dagger and walked a few steps to the blackboard.

He picked up the half-stamped chalk and, without any hesitation, flicked his wrist across the remaining palm-sized blank space.

Brush brush!

The ear-piercing sound of chalk scraping against the blackboard rang out.

One minute and forty-five seconds.

Chen Mo tossed the chalk into the trough, dusted off his hands, and turned around. His usually calm eyes were now frighteningly bright, staring intently at the beef jerky on the table.

On the blackboard, a series of incredibly fluent formulas represents the final solution.

A hint of surprise flashed in Lin Jiaoyue's eyes: "That's right. There's a ruthless character in our house who's making a fortune in silence."

She kept her word, grabbed the largest handful of beef jerky, and stuffed it directly into Chen Mo's calloused hands.

Chen Mo didn't stand on ceremony, grabbed a piece and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing it vigorously.

As the rich aroma of meat exploded in his mouth, a sense of almost devout satisfaction appeared on his perpetually expressionless face.

"ah!!!"

Gao Jianguo broke down, tearing a large gash in the paper with his pen, and wailed deafeningly: "Chen Menzi, you have no sportsmanship! Song Glasses, teach me now! You can have all the steamed buns for breakfast tomorrow! I'm not eating!"

Lin Jiaoyue looked at the three men who were dozing off in the ocean of knowledge for a few pieces of meat, and a slight smile appeared on her lips.

But that smile vanished in an instant.

"Alright, stop howling."

She walked over and drew an auxiliary line on the horribly mangled draft paper, her tone returning to its usual coldness:

"Gao Jianguo, are you trying to kill the world by treating formulas like dirt? Imagine the crankshaft of your tractor as a sine wave, with the piston at the peak and the trough at the bottom. Taking the derivative is how fast it runs. Understand?"

Gao Jianguo stared at the line, the confusion in his eyes gradually fading, replaced by shock.

He slapped his thigh hard, the sound ringing out:

"Hey! If you'd said so earlier, I would have understood! Isn't this just the cylinder stroke thing?"

"It's connected?"

"It's working! It's really working this time!"

"Once you've mastered it, start doing the problems." Lin Jiaoyue yawned, picked up the enamel mug again, and said, "Don't even think about sleeping until you've finished."

Just as Gao Jianguo resumed his calculations, Chen Mo was still savoring his second piece of beef jerky.

Chen Mo suddenly stopped chewing the meat.

In that instant, his previously relaxed back suddenly tensed up, like a tiger that was eating but suddenly smelled danger.

Lin Jiaoyue keenly noticed this change.

"What?" she asked in a very low voice, her fingertips subtly gripping a scalpel hidden in her sleeve.

Chen Mo didn't speak, but slowly turned his head, his gaze fixed on the window covered with newspaper.

The wind and snow howled outside the window.

But amidst that whistling sound, there seemed to be a very, very soft...

The crisp sound of crushing dry branches underfoot.

……