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

He said that, but he couldn't help but laugh.

Xiao Hu nodded, suppressing a laugh, without turning the page.

Old Chen sat opposite, watching Zhang Renfeng and Olekhov chatter away in Russian, interspersed with laughter and patting each other on the shoulder.

Although he couldn't understand the specifics, he could tell from Olekhov's enthusiastic expression that the deal was done.

Sure enough, Olekhov said a few more words, and then changed the subject, becoming more enthusiastic: "Comrade Zhang, we've organized a wine tasting party tonight. You'll be there, won't you? Our vodka is excellent."

I brought a truckload of genuine Moscow liquor, much stronger than your Northeastern-style strong liquor.

After listening, Zhang Renfeng didn't rush to reply, but instead turned his head to glance at Old Chen.

"Look, look, this kid wants to drink with me? He actually dares to drink with me?"

Old Chen immediately understood, unable to suppress his smile, and nodded politely to Olekhov: "General Olekhov, you've come to the right person. Political Commissar Zhang has an excellent capacity for alcohol..."

Olekhov slapped the table and laughed. He stood up and shook hands with Zhang Renfeng again.

"Then it's settled. See you at the experts' building tonight at seven."

......

The following evening, General Olekhov, along with several Soviet experts, slept until sunset.

Their heads still throbbed slightly when they got up, but they were full of energy.

Olekhov changed into a clean military uniform and led the expert team straight to Zhang Renfeng's office, his face beaming as he pushed open the door.

"Dean Zhang, I'm so happy!"

As soon as Olekhov entered, he began to address Zhang Liangshi as "Dean Zhang."

"I thought you Chinese people couldn't hold your liquor, but I didn't expect that even the entire expert team combined couldn't beat you."

Come on, come on. We agreed last night that I'll go to your elite engineering division and select a few engineers to work as assistants. Later, based on their needs, I'll apply to the country to bring in the most experienced weapons experts, and even the production line...

Don't worry, although I don't have much influence domestically, my uncle is in charge of conventional weapons manufacturing....

Zhang Renfeng was sitting at his desk flipping through documents when he heard this. He put down his pen, stood up, and greeted him with a smile.

"General Olekhov, I'll remember what you said. I'll provide the manpower, but you'd better get the production line sorted out for me as well."

We agreed that you'd help me with the rocket engineering department stuff.

"Of course, of course!"

Olekhov patted his chest, a gesture somewhat incongruous with his military status, yet exuding a genuine and straightforward confidence. "The ideas you told me last night, the more I think about them, the more reasonable they seem. Rocket technology will definitely be key to great power competition in the future, and your Harbin Military Engineering Institute should start planning now."

I'll send a telegram to Moscow as soon as I get back, asking my old colleagues to send you the most suitable person. I also request that your country conduct talks in a diplomatic manner...

The two walked out side by side. Olekhov discussed the selection criteria with him as they walked, with Zhang Renfeng occasionally chiming in with a comment.

A few meters away, Old Chen stood at the corner of the corridor, leaning on his cane, and felt a mix of emotions as he looked at the scene.

All the work he organized for the Soviet experts was less effective than a single drinking session with Zhang Renfeng.

Old Chen, who accompanied Zhang Renfeng to visit the experts, was quite displeased and was already cursing in his heart: "Wait, yesterday he kept calling me Political Commissar Zhang, how come he's started talking about Dean Zhang after just one drink? Don't I, Old Chen, have any shame?"

He cursed inwardly, but said nothing aloud. He quietly retreated to the back, took out the hardcover notebook from his pocket, leaned against the wall, opened it, and began to write:

[Harbin Military Engineering Institute has great potential. Zhang Liangshi, with just one conversation and one drink, turned the Soviet experts into true laborers. Olekhov went from being reserved yesterday to being warm and friendly today, changing his address from "Comrade Zhang Liangshi" to "Dean Zhang." This shows the remarkable effect of drinking culture in international exchanges. Renfeng's drinking capacity is unparalleled in the entire army. What was originally a matter of personal conduct has now become a powerful tool for national defense diplomacy—a truly unexpected delight. I, Old Chen, have painstakingly cultivated this for a year, only to have it all reduced to a single vodka drink today. Is it a tragedy? Or a joy? The answer is: immense joy! The laborers have achieved their goal today!!! I'm so happy! When I return to Beijing in a few days, I'll definitely make Comrade Xiao Fu call me 'Dad'!!]

After writing the last line, he closed the notebook, leaned on his cane, and slowly followed.

At the other end of the corridor, Zhang Renfeng and Olekhov had reached the entrance of the engineer division's barracks. The two were squatting on the ground, studying a construction blueprint, pointing and chatting.

Seeing this, Li Yunlong and Kong Jie were extremely eager to serve him, while Zhao Gang was even more outrageous, completely disregarding Old Chen's authority...

However, now that Zhang is in charge of implementing specific tasks at Harbin Military Engineering Institute, and I, Lao Chen, am in charge of coordinating with the central government, with each of us involved, how can our national defense cause not stand among the ranks of powerful nations?