A rapid breathing came from the other end of the phone, and Feng Guang's voice trembled slightly.

"Girl, do you know what happens when the organization can't even arrange for the wounded soldiers to be taken care of?"

Some of them had their arms amputated after being pierced by bullets, others had a leg or even their entire lower body blown off by explosives. Are you really willing to use them?

Before Ruan Xianxian could answer, he said urgently, "Don't worry, even if my soldiers are left with lifelong disabilities, they will still be the country's best soldiers."

They are capable of taking care of themselves and doing some light work without any problems.

"Give them a try, test their abilities. If they don't work, we won't add to your burden."

Ruan Xianxian's small hands, which were winding the telephone cord around and around, paused slightly. From the grumpy old man she first met on the train, to the old rascal in the provincial capital who insisted that she call him uncle...

Even when he nearly capsized after signing the pledge, Feng Guang never showed such an urgent, pleading attitude.

Ruan Xianxian lowered her eyes, her tone light as if saying, "It's no big deal." "So what if both arms are amputated? I can use my feet to grip the shovel handle and stir-fry the beans."

It's even better that it's missing its legs; it can still pick beans and feed the ducks, and its height is just right for easy communication with the flock.

You can rest assured and entrust the people to me. No matter what part is missing, as long as they are not paralyzed from the waist down, I can always find them suitable jobs in the factory.

Upon hearing this, the elderly man, who had stood up excitedly from his chair in the First Army Commander's Office, holding the microphone with both hands, paused for a moment, his excited expression froze, and he was somewhat at a loss for words.

He slowly sat back down in his chair, without saying thank you, but asked with concern, "Is there anything we can do for you? Have the workers' dormitories been arranged?"

There really isn't one. Ruan Xianxian only came up with the idea of ​​hiring wounded soldiers to work after she had contact with commune members.

She could imagine how bad the discipline would be if villagers were hired to work—they would be unruly, lazy, and even embezzle funds…

While such thinking is somewhat of a generalization, it is unavoidable to encounter the most unreasonable and irrational people.

She didn't want to spend too much energy on management. Rather than having everyone fall out and turn a good thing into a bad one, it was better to change the approach from the start.

If the workshop expands in the future and the system and regulations are established, it will not be too late to hire villagers if needed.

As for the dormitories Feng Guang mentioned, wounded soldiers do indeed need a place to stay.

She replied without hesitation, "Yes, I'll take care of getting the land, hauling bricks, and building the house—I'll leave all that to Uncle Feng."

On the other end of the phone, Feng Guang laughed heartily, "Great, great, I'll personally select ten people to send over in the first batch, and the army will pay for the dormitory construction."

The rest is up to your nephew; he'll arrive tomorrow morning.

You don't need to treat him like a human being... I mean, just treat him like a beast of burden.

His own grandson?

Ruan Xianxian chuckled, “The factory belongs to the commune, so the cost of building the house should be borne by the commune. You just need to contribute your manpower and labor.”

Then, changing the subject, he said, "Uncle Feng, could you please do me another favor on the way? A brigade in the commune needs to repair a road. Please have my nephew bring some weapons to clear the way."

Feng Guang agreed.

The military is involved in everything from opening up mountains and building roads to the autumn harvest.

The Dingziku Commune had a militia, but in some areas without militia, wild boars and other ferocious beasts came down from the mountains and needed to be cleared by the army.

“Okay.” Feng Guang reminded him, “Road construction requires documents from the county office. If you can’t get them done, hand them over to Feng Bai. He’s familiar with the procedures.”

It's definitely a good ox or horse...

After finishing their business, the father and son fell silent. After a few moments, they spoke in unison again: "Miyano..."

"Miyano, he..."

Feng Guang laughed out loud, "I knew you were going to ask. You haven't seen that kid's crazy side when he goes all out. Don't worry, even if the island nation falls, he won't fall."

There has been no news of support from island nations from Institute 507; no news is good news.

By the time the news gets back, that kid should be back too.

My uncle has prepared his dowry... no, not dowry, but betrothal gifts."

Ruan Xianxian touched the red string and stone bracelet on her wrist; it was at a normal temperature. Suppressing the longing in her eyes, she joked:

“I cannot accept a smaller dowry.”

Feng Guang laughed and cursed a few times before hanging up the phone.

As soon as the call ended, the deputy director, who had been eavesdropping outside the door for a long time, rushed in and immediately questioned, "Who were you talking to?"

Who promised you that the oil refinery would use depleted troops? And why build dormitories?

I disagree.

They don't want commune members to work as laborers, yet they expect the commune to pay for building dormitories for her? What are they thinking?

Deputy Director Wan was particularly angry, angry that she had made the decision on her own without consulting the commune's opinion at all.

Ruan Xianxian interlaced her fingers on her lower abdomen, her little feet resting on the table wiggled annoyingly, and she didn't even turn her head.

"The machines are mine, and I have the freedom to choose my workers. What business is it of yours?"

The deputy director was dumbfounded. What was hers? Didn't the machine belong to the commune? How was Han Li supposed to handle things?

Ruan Xianxian chuckled and said, "The Flathead Brigade returned the machine to me. It's a signed deal, and the oil press belongs to me. Is there a problem?"

The deputy director cursed Han Li in his mind, walked in, and sat down across the table, facing Ruan Xianxian's big feet. He pretended not to see them and said earnestly:

"Comrade, you may not know this because you are young, but all agricultural tools related to production belong to the collective and the state does not allow individuals to own them."

Your understanding is flawed.

Deputy Director Wan was very satisfied with the point he had made, and he was certain that Ruan Xianxian would not be able to find any reason to refute it.

Ruan Xianxian merely glanced at his confident gaze, took out her ID from her pocket, slammed it on the table, and slowly uttered:

"Open your dog eyes and look carefully, who said I'm a person?"

Provincial department translator?

The deputy director was dumbfounded again.

Ruan Xianxian smiled and nodded, "Did you see clearly? I am not an individual, but a translator under the provincial department. In other words, you can regard the three oil presses as the property of the provincial department."

Ten thousand yuan—I never expected there would be such a trick.

He opened his mouth for a long time but couldn't utter a single word.

Ruan Xianxian put away her work ID. Well, it was issued by Director Jia when she was a translator. Everyone else's IDs were taken back and invalidated, but only hers and Mu Xia's were kept.

The provincial department had the idea of ​​"using them again next time if needed," and Ruan Xianxian, who had more certificates, did not refuse.

Wan Yuan, whose back had been bent low by reality, finally calmed down, put on a smiling face, and softened his tone.

"I spoke rashly in my haste, comrade. You see, the oil pressing plant is located in our commune and has nothing to do with the provincial department."

How about the commune offers to buy those three oil presses from you?

I was prepared for Ruan Xianxian to simply refuse, but to my surprise, she readily agreed, "Sure!"

Before the deputy director could even express his surprise, he heard the guy slowly finish speaking, "Three thousand for one unit, nine thousand for three units. May I ask if the commune will accept cash or bank transfer?"

A laughable ten thousand? Nine thousand? Does he really think he knows nothing?

"No way, Comrade Ruan? When the machines were brought back to the village, they were priced at 300 per machine and 900 for three machines."

Three oil presses for nine hundred yuan—that's why the commune set its sights on them.

Ruan Xianxian remained unfazed. "Nine hundred was the price for the broken machine. Now that it's fixed, the price for a good one is nine thousand."