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

In the General Staff Headquarters' operations hall in Beiping, Old Chen and Old Nie sat facing each other, neither of them speaking first.

Old Chen had only been back in China for a few days, and his legs were more agile than before he went to North Korea.

Ever since he started taking Zhang Renfeng with him, he felt much better.

But now his mind is no longer on the map.

He was thinking about naming Zhang Renfeng's son.

"Old Nie, we really can't delay naming Renfeng's son. I think it should be like ours, with the character 'zhi' (知, meaning 'knowledge') in it..."

Upon hearing this, Lao Nie's face darkened, and without even raising his eyelids, he said, "Those who work should refer to their job titles."

Old Chen immediately straightened up, raised his back, and cleared his throat: "Comrade Acting Chief of Staff Nie, I would like to report to you on the naming issue of the Zhang family's descendants..."

"Alright, that's enough!" Old Nie waved his hand, his tone barely concealing his anger.

"That's my grandson! Even though he's not blood-related, is there any difference between him and blood-related children? It's all your fault!!"

Old Nie gets angry just thinking about this.

That bastard Chen keeps telling everyone that Zhang Baopo had a son who's incredibly awesome, and that the name must have been chosen by Chen himself.

As soon as the news spread, the dwarfs and blind men from the Taihang Mountains all called, each one louder than the last.

The blind man from Jinling spoke most seriously: "Hey you, even though he's your grandson, I, Old Liu, am the matchmaker. Don't say anything more, I've decided on the name: Zhang Taiyue!!"

Old Nie was furious. "Taiyue, Taiyue, what an awful name! It sounds like a brute."

The person from the southwest suggested, "Let's name it Baise, after the place where the revolution began."

The matter remained unresolved, which put Renfeng in a difficult position.

After much deliberation, even though the child is old enough to turn over, things are still not settled.

Yesterday, west Yue brought her child over, saying the child could stand up now, but had they decided on a name yet?

Looking at his grandson's chubby little face, Old Nie felt both anxious and annoyed...

After being scolded, Old Chen shrank back and didn't dare to say another word.

He was also thinking to himself that, as the eldest brother, he always hoped that his younger brother would stay calm.

He was both afraid that his younger brother would suffer and afraid that his younger brother would drive a Land Rover—that was Old Chen's state of mind at that moment.

He was afraid that Zhang Renfeng's campaign was not fought well enough, but he was also afraid that if he fought too well and stood out too much, how could he have the nerve to let someone else be his deputy in the future?

This is fucking digging a hole for myself!

Just then, a loud laugh boomed in from the doorway.

"Hahahaha! Cripple, a resounding victory! A resounding victory!!!"

The legion commander beamed with joy, his wrinkles crinkling into a wide grin.

He took two steps to Old Chen and slapped him on the shoulder, making Old Chen sink down and almost drop the teacup in his hand.

Old Chen winced from the slap, but he ignored the pain and jumped to his feet, slamming his hands on the table and staring wide-eyed at the legion commander: "All wiped out?"

"Completely annihilated!" The corps commander slammed the telegram on the table, his voice brimming with barely suppressed excitement. "The entire US 7th Infantry Division! Not a single one escaped! Plus, two South Korean divisions were decimated, and over four thousand foreign coalition troops were wiped out!"

Old Nie also stood up, quickly walked around the table, grabbed the telegram, glanced at it, then looked up at the legion commander, then looked down at the telegram again. His lips moved, and the expression on his face went from disbelief to ecstasy, finally turning into a long sigh of relief and a "Good!"

At this moment, Zhang Renfeng's master (let's call him master for now) walked in from the door and said, "What are you all doing? Hurry up and get out of here, the meeting is about to start."

Old Chen then realized that the Central Military Commission was holding a preparatory meeting for Harbin Military Engineering Institute today, as well as to discuss the National Day military parade in more than two months.

He downed the wine in the jar in one gulp, wiped his mouth, and turned to leave.

When he reached the door, there were two sentries in brand-new military uniforms standing there, their backs ramrod straight. When they saw Old Chen come out, they snapped to attention and saluted him with clean, crisp movements.

Old Chen glanced at the two sentries, one tall and one short, one with a round face and the other with a square face, but their eyes revealed a sharpness that was different from that of ordinary sentries—these were the guards that Zhang Renfeng had arranged for him, both of whom were soldiers from the Liangshan Special Forces Battalion, who had truly come out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood.

He nodded to the two sentries, said nothing more, and followed Mr. Er, the corps commander, and Lao Nie towards the Military Commission meeting room.

The conference room was already quite full.

Most of them were cadres from the General Staff Department and the General Political Department, and a few were heads of the military industry system.

Hearing the commotion at the door, the person in the superior position looked up, glanced around at the people who had entered, and finally fixed his gaze on Old Chen, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"You're all here? Please have a seat."

The group took their seats one by one. As soon as Old Chen settled in, the man at the head of the table gestured with his chin toward his secretary beside him: "Declaration of War."

"The campaign to lure and annihilate the enemy using reverse-slope tunnels in the Wusheng Mountain and Shangganling areas along the central front concluded yesterday. Our army employed tactics of pre-planned battlefields, tunnel concealment, rocket bombardment, and infantry-artillery coordination to completely annihilate the entire US 7th Infantry Division... killing, wounding, and capturing over 40,000 enemy soldiers, and seizing four military flags and a number of tanks and armored vehicles..."

When the phrase "annihilated the US 7th Infantry Division" was read, the breathing of several officers noticeably became heavier, some clenched their fists, and some took off their glasses to rub their eyes.

Just how difficult was this battle? Only those of you here know the answer!

After reading it aloud, the secretary closed the telegram and stepped aside.

He put down his calligraphy brush, stood up, walked to the window, and stood with his back to everyone for a few seconds.

Turning around, the weariness on his face from long hours of desk work had faded considerably, replaced by an undisguised excitement.

He glanced around at everyone present, his voice not loud when he spoke, but every word struck a chord with them:

"This Zhang the Explosive, this little red devil, if you ask me, calling him Zhang the Second Master is not wrong."

He paused for a moment, as if savoring the title, before continuing.

"Well done! You know what we need most right now? Confidence! We need to show the whole nation that our new country is not afraid of American imperialism. America is just a paper tiger!"

This battle was undoubtedly a shot in the arm! The comrades at the headquarters were absolutely right; calling Comrade Renfeng the shield of the Republic is no exaggeration!

"Hearing such exciting news today, I really want to write a poem for our young and creative Comrade Zhang Liangshi. Zilong, quickly bring over pen, ink, paper, and inkstone..."