A courtyard house; Li Yunlong, a subordinate of the deputy director of Harbin Military Engineering I

In the office of the president of the Jingzhou Military Academy, President Liu was bent over his desk, revising documents, his pen moving rapidly across the paper.

The secretary pushed open the door, snapped to attention, and saluted: "Reporting to the Dean, a call from Harbin Military Engineering Institute!"

Without looking up, Dean Liu continued writing, his tone radiating barely suppressed anger: "How many times have I told you? If Dean Chen calls, don't report it, don't pay attention, tear this up!"

The secretary stood frozen in place, clutching the telegram in her hand, unsure whether to go forward or backward.

He knew the dean's temper all too well. This old commander was most annoyed by Brigade Commander Chen sending telegrams every now and then to show off, such as how many pieces of equipment the Rocket Engineering Department had acquired, or how the Soviet experts had praised Harbin Military Engineering Institute. Every word was like a nail driven into Dean Liu's heart.

But when he looked down at the signature of the telegram in the folder, the corner of his mouth twitched involuntarily.

If the dean knew who sent this, he'd probably jump right out of his chair.

Dean Liu waited for a while without hearing any movement. He took off his glasses, looked up, and glared at his secretary: "Didn't I tell you? If it's that Chen's telegram, tear it up!"

The secretary, suppressing a laugh, straightened up and said with barely suppressed enthusiasm, "Dean, it's your beloved student, Dean Zhang Renfeng, calling, whom you've been eagerly awaiting."

The pen in Dean Liu's hand fell to the table with a "clatter".

He was taken aback at first, then suddenly stood up, the chair leg scraping against the floor with a short, sharp sound.

"What did you say?" He strode around the desk, walked up to the secretary, and snatched the folder from her in a flash, as if afraid someone would steal it from him.

The moment he opened the telegram, the anger on his face vanished completely, replaced by an irrepressible smile. His lips curled upwards, and the wrinkles around his eyes gathered together, making him look like an old man who had received a letter from his children at the end of the year.

"Oh, Xiaofeng is back."

He took the telegram, walked back to his desk, sat down, and glared at his secretary. "I have to give you a piece of my mind here. Didn't I tell you that any telegram from Xiao Feng must be given to me immediately?"

The secretary stood to the side, feeling incredibly wronged. Her lips twitched, but she didn't dare utter a single word.

He thought to himself, "Dean, Dean, I did report this immediately, but you didn't give me any chance to report it at all."

As soon as I saw it was a call from Harbin Military Engineering Institute, they told me to tear it up. I couldn't exactly stop them from doing that, could I?

However, seeing the dean holding the telegram with obvious delight, he finally felt relieved.

This Zhang Renfeng, Zhang Blasting, devoted himself to national defense construction in just one year. It is said that the Second Ministry of Machine Building transformed no less than ten factories in that year, involving guns, gunpowder, anti-aircraft artillery, air force, and marine engineering. Each of these was a truly tough job.

In addition, the Soviet side has sent a team to North China, and exploration work has begun, in preparation for building China's largest thermal power plant in the region.

This is the first time in history.

The large machinery that the Soviet army had taken away from Northeast China back then was also transported back, trainload by trainload.

Major steel mills introduced the most advanced technologies, and even a group of overseas scholars who had been stranded in the United States for many years were brought back.

Who wouldn't like Dean Zhang?

Who wouldn't love it?

If it weren't for Old Chen holding onto him and refusing to release him, Zhang Renfeng would have been our Dean Liu's long ago!

Dean Liu read the telegram twice from beginning to end, becoming more and more excited with each reading. He slammed his hand heavily on the table, causing the teacup lid to jump up and then fall back down.

"Hahaha! This brat, he either doesn't make a move at all, or when he does, it's a thunderous strike!"

He stood up, paced back and forth behind his desk a couple of times, then stopped, held the telegram up to his eyes and looked at it again, unable to suppress the smile lines on his face.

"Look, look! The air defense system and anti-aircraft gun array that we just conceived a while ago are already ready to be used in air combat."

He turned around, waved the telegram in his hand at the secretary, and said with barely suppressed excitement, "And this—"

He tapped his finger on the telegram, which contained a plan for the liberation of Yijiangshan Island, involving a comprehensive strike by the army, navy, and air force. Every word exuded the sharpness unique to young people.

"This kid is preparing to pioneer a new type of warfare for our army! What is military modernization? What is national defense? This is the military modernization we envision!"

He became more and more agitated as he spoke, his voice echoing throughout the office. Finally, he added, "Look, look! That cripple Old Chen is always holding people back, but look at what Xiao Feng has accomplished this year! If it weren't for Old Chen dragging him down, Xiao Feng might have even been able to build a rocket!"

The secretary stood at the door, listening to the dean's impassioned speech, unable to suppress the slight smile on her lips.

He knew the dean wasn't really scolding Old Chen; it was a warm, camaraderie-like complaint between old comrades, like bickering around a stove in winter.

Dean Liu placed the telegram on the table, his fingers tracing the paper, and looked up at his secretary, the fervor in his voice still lingering:

"He needs to temporarily transfer a few trainees. Go to the trainee dormitory and call back Li Yunlong, Xing Zhiguo, Zhang Dabiao, Sun Tai'an, and others."

"In addition, I suggest that Director Zhong of the Political Department and several vice deans come over. I think we should organize a field observation for the entire department. When the fighting starts in eastern Zhejiang, let all the students of the Advanced Command Department go and observe."

The secretary hesitated for a moment: "Dean, Li Yunlong, Liang Daya, and others are off today and have all gone to the city to see a play. I heard that the play being performed today is 'The Empty City Stratagem'."

Dean Liu waved his hand, his tone leaving no room for negotiation: "Whatever their plan, just have them come back immediately!"

After he finished speaking, he sat back down in his chair, picked up the telegram, and read it for the third time, his gaze moving over the lines of text, a smile always on his lips.

No one looked forward to the modernization of the People's Liberation Army more than Dean Liu. The old tactics that relied on manpower cost us too many young soldiers, and it pained him to see them sacrificed.

Every time he saw the casualty figures in the casualty report, he felt as if a knife was carving pain into his bones, stroke by stroke.

He knew better than anyone how many broken families and how many sons their parents would never see again were hidden in those statistics.

Now, Xiao Feng's plans are coming to fruition one after another, from proximity fuses to gun steel technology, from surface-to-air missiles to thermal power plants, each one laying the foundation for the future.

No one understood Zhang Renfeng's intentions better than him; this kid had the country's defense construction in his mind!

Dean Liu put down the telegram, took off his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

The sunlight outside the window was perfect, falling on the telegram spread out on his desk, making the three characters "Zhang Renfeng" stand out clearly.

He kept repeating one thought to himself: Xiao Feng is on the right path. If we continue down this path, our soldiers won't have to risk their lives to fill those gaps in firepower in the future.

He put his glasses back on, picked up the pen on the table, opened the notebook in front of him, and wrote a line.

[The weather is clear today. Xiao Fengdian has returned home, discussing the strategy for Yijiangshan Island, the first combat deployment of the Second Artillery Corps on Dongshan Island, and the air defense deployment in eastern Zhejiang. The further ahead this young man's vision extends, the deeper his concerns become; as his mentor, I must protect him.]

After finishing writing, he closed the notebook, stood up, walked to the window and stood there for a while. His gaze passed through the glass and landed on the newly paved playground in the yard. Several trainees were hurrying past with their lesson plans in their hands, their steps quick and steady.

He turned around and gestured with his chin towards the secretary: "What are you all standing there for? Go and call someone."