With three superpowers at his fingertips, he could dominate the 1970s.

The meeting lasted for more than an hour, and Song Yanzhou stood in the corridor completely unaware of it.

He wasn't high enough rank to get into that conference room; that was the rule, he knew it. But knowing it was true, standing outside was still unpleasant. The corridor was carpeted in dark gray, and the fluorescent lights overhead hummed. He paced back and forth against the wall several times, a little worried about his wife's health.

When the door finally opened and people started to walk out, he craned his neck to look for his wife in the crowd, but after everyone had left, he still couldn't see Jiang Zhiyu. His heart tightened, and he pushed open the half-closed door to look inside, only to find that Old Gao and Old Li were still sitting in their original seats, chatting and laughing with his wife.

Jiang Zhiyu leaned back in her chair, one hand supporting her stomach, her eyes crinkling with a smile, and she looked to be in good spirits.

Song Yanzhou finally breathed a sigh of relief, strode inside, and gave Elder Gao and Elder Li a standard military salute: "Greetings, sirs."

Old Gao waved his hand, gesturing for him to sit down, a smile on his face: "Good lad, well done. You'd better keep a close eye on your wife; you can't be careless now."

Old Li nodded in agreement: "This girl has done so much for the country, and your family has worked so hard too. Alright, take your wife home now, don't just stand here."

Song Yanzhou responded and carefully helped Jiang Zhiyu stand up. He then removed the backrest from her waist. The two of them said goodbye to the two leaders before slowly walking out.

...

That same afternoon, the atmosphere was completely different in another conference room at the central headquarters.

This room was larger than the one from the morning. Both sides of the long table were filled with people in military uniforms, their service badges lined up in rows. Qi Zhenhai stood at one end of the long table. He was in his early fifties, his back ramrod straight. The buttons on his white naval uniform were polished to a shine. The lines on his face looked as if they had been carved by a knife. He was clearly a man who had spent decades at sea.

"Deputy Commander Qi, tell me about your selection plan for this time," Old Gao spoke first.

Qi Zhenhai stood up, placed his hands on the table, glanced around at everyone present, and said in a steady voice, "Commander, this is my plan. Please take a look and see if it's feasible."

He pulled a stack of bound plans from his file folder, distributed them to everyone present, and kept a copy for himself. Turning to the first page, he pointed to the organizational chart and said, "These two giant ships don't need to be equipped with over five thousand personnel according to foreign military operational formations. The second ship is positioned as an experimental training vessel, with a personnel strength between 1,800 and 2,000, establishing departments for navigation, engineering, radar, communications, aviation support, and damage control. A complete combat aviation unit will not be configured for the time being; training will focus on on-the-job rotation, with multiple personnel per position and rotating practical experience."

He turned to the next page, which showed a detailed diagram of the departmental structure and job assignments: "Currently, we lack the necessary escort vessels and are not yet ready for maritime operations. Our goal is not to use them for combat, but to refine the entire job process and train a group of capable officers and soldiers for future domestically built giant ships."

After listening, Old Li put down his teacup and nodded: "Do you have a selection process in mind?"

"Of course." Qi Zhenhai turned to the third page of the plan, which listed a dense array of selection criteria: "Select key personnel from various active-duty naval units, prioritizing those with expertise in marine engineering, navigation, radar, and communications. After political vetting and rigorous assessments, a specialized experimental crew will be formed. They will be under full-time management, with no specific assignments disclosed. They will first complete theoretical training on schedule, and then proceed to the harbor for onboard practical training."

He closed the proposal and placed it on the head of the long table with both hands: "This is our proposal; please review it, leader."

Old Gao took the book, flipped through a few pages, and then placed it on the table, tapping the surface with his finger: "You can decide on the specific procedures, but the background check must be thorough. With this big guy around, we're constantly on the verge of exposure; we absolutely cannot let a single bad apple spoil the whole story."

He looked up at Qi Zhenhai, his gaze darkening. "Once all these people are on board, I need you to assemble another team. Once these personnel leave the fleet, their whereabouts and everything about them must be completely known."

Qi Zhenhai's expression turned serious, and he stood at attention, replying, "Yes, sir."

He paused, hesitated for a moment, but couldn't help asking, "Sir, I want to ask, do we really have that big thing?"

There was a two-second silence in the conference room. Old Gao and Old Li exchanged a glance. Old Gao's lips curled into a slight smile as he asked, "Do you think I'd go to such lengths without something substantial to offer?"

Qi Zhenhai was jolted, unable to contain his excitement. His lips trembled as he managed to utter, "So it really is... I will certainly not let down the Party and the country's trust!"

His voice was trembling slightly by the end.

Old Gao nodded, his tone leaving no room for argument: "Then you should start selecting and training personnel now, and complete it within four months. Four months later, Comrade Jiang will be able to transport that big thing over to you."

"Yes!" Qi Zhenhai answered firmly.

After the meeting, he walked out of the conference room. The corridor was empty, with only the echo of his own footsteps. He took a few steps, then his strides grew longer and longer until he was practically walking briskly down the corridor, as if his feet were made of springs.

That's fucking awesome!

They have an aircraft carrier now.

God knows that he spent his entire life in the navy, watching other countries' big ships circle around his doorstep every day, without even the right to fight back. That kind of frustration could suffocate a person. When faced with provocation, he could only grit his teeth and retreat, each step back drawing blood from his heart.

Now their country finally has this big guy too.

He walked to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door. Sunlight flooded in, making him squint. He mentally reviewed the selection plan again, his mind already selecting candidates: which regiment had the best chief engineer, which fleet's communications platoon consistently ranked first, and who had the most extensive seafaring experience…

We cannot be careless in this selection process.