Chapter 116

The room was filled with a wonderful aroma. On four or five stoves, some were stir-frying oily dishes, some were stir-frying onions, and some were steaming hot buns waiting to be taken out of the steamer. The aroma of the dough, after being kneaded and fermented, burst forth from the steamer like a fierce but harmless hook, gripping the stomachs of people who had been starving for a long time.

The Kush region is deep in the primeval forest, and the road conditions are complex, making the transportation and storage of supplies major problems.

To save fuel, the cooks only turned on the fire once a day to prepare all the meals for the day, which were then kept warm by the residual heat.

The steamed buns smelled wonderful when they were fresh out of the oven, which was fine in autumn, but once winter arrived, the buns for dinner would freeze as hard as rocks and had to be thawed with soup before they could be eaten. Countless soldiers had chewed on them.

Therefore, not only Jiang Wenxing, but also the cadres who brought him there, swallowed hard when they smelled the aroma.

But the cadres, being concerned with appearances, wiped away their drooling and, with a long face, loudly called out someone's name.

He was speaking Thanastia, but Jiang Wenxing's Thanastia wasn't good, so he didn't hear him clearly. Someone in the kitchen responded and came out.

The cadre communicated with him in broken Mandarin.

"Well... it's an organizational arrangement. If there are any problems, you can report them to higher authorities. Intellectuals? Intellectuals are human too. They need to eat and drink. They have one mouth to eat and two holes to breathe through. What can't they do?"

That's what he said, but Jiang Wenxing knew it would be difficult for people to accept him.

However, he had never studied the art of language in his two lives, so apart from saluting, he didn't know what to say to ease the awkwardness.

The head cook, surnamed Xiong, was a typical Tanas man—tall, robust, and covered in body hair. His eagle-like eyes and graying sideburns suggested he was not young.

The old Thanask man, wearing a silver ring the size of an egg on his left ear and chewing on a blade of grass, looked down at Jiang Wenxing and said in Mandarin mixed with Thanask, "Are you sure this should be placed in the mess hall?"

He can't carry anything on his shoulders or lift anything with his hands. To put it nicely, he's a cultured person; to put it bluntly, he's a Buddhist monk.

The cadre shrugged and nodded, telling him to take good care of him.

Squad Leader Xiong didn't know why the old guide had made this arrangement, but he didn't object. With a solemn expression, he led Jiang Wenxing into the house.

Jiang Wenxing took off his gloves and looked around. Most of the cooks were ordinary people, each in charge of a stove, and they were all very busy. Only Squad Leader Xiong was a sentry, and he did the heaviest work, responsible for cooking all the meals for the entire stronghold.

Jiang Wenxing watched for a while before walking up to him and asking if he needed any help.

Squad Leader Xiong scooped a large spoonful of lard into the pot. The fire under the stove was burning brightly and warmly. Without saying a word, he pointed to the green beans in the corner.

Jiang Wenxing sat on a small stool next to the stove, shelling beans.

The green pea pods are pinched off with the thumb to remove the strings, and then the plump, round green peas fall into the tin bucket with a clattering sound.

Flames leaped in the stove, warming Jiang Wenxing's cheeks.

One bean at a time, he pondered his own thoughts, wondering what he would do after arriving. The more he thought about it, the more serious he became, and the more serious he became, the more frustrated he felt. In addition to his frustration, he was also somewhat troubled, so he couldn't help but sigh and remain silent. To others, he appeared to be depressed and disappointed after being thrown into the cooking squad, sulking.

Border guards have seen too many guides like this; they're tired of it.

Kush is remote, and as a result, the sentries here have a bad reputation. Outsiders always think that the sentries in Kush are backward in their thinking, lack awareness, are peasant soldiers, and are simple-minded soldiers, and they don't want to be alone with them.

Therefore, none of the soldiers spoke to Jiang Wenxing; they finished cooking and left silently.

Jiang Wenxing was lost in thought when he looked up and found the room empty, but there were footsteps outside. He stood up and saw a stranger, a sentry, leading the way with Arno. Arno said the hot water was in the kitchen. Arno thanked him and said goodbye, then came in with a kettle. When he saw Jiang Wenxing, he smiled first, then showed a surprised expression.

"Wenxing! You're here?"

Arno said enviously, "You've been assigned a great position!"

Arno carefully observed Jiang Wenxing, trying to find any expression on his face that would please him, but unfortunately, he didn't.

Jiang Wenxing was pretty, but she had a gloomy look to her; it was a gloomy, haughty kind of beauty.

This kind of person is difficult to get along with; he seems selfish. Arno doesn't like Jiang Wenxing, and everyone else should be like him.

But why does Ilya take such good care of him? Ilya should have preferred his kind and gentle nature.

Ilya has mistaken me for someone else.

Jiang Wenxing is a person with a terrible personality, excessive pride, and an overly sharp tongue.

Arno has always been popular, while Jiang Wenxing is clearly the kind of child who is not well-liked.

After his friend Zhu Ning completely betrayed him, Arno successfully angered Jiang Wenxing and learned a lot about his childhood. He became even more convinced that it was ridiculous for someone with such a low character as Jiang Wenxing to have such an arrogant attitude. He thought it was better for Jiang Wenxing to show his bad side so that people would be wary of him.

He walked over and put his arm around Jiang Wenxing's shoulder: "You're lucky, you don't get blown around or sunburned. We spent the whole morning running around outside with the old guide, it was exhausting."

He looked down again: "Aren't you going to eat?"

After saying that, he said to himself, "Oh, you haven't finished your work yet? I was wondering why there was a sign in the kitchen saying there would be stir-fried green beans. So you haven't finished shelling them yet."

"By the way, next time you finish your work, you can sneak over to the medical team for a visit. The old guide is teaching us methods for emotional support."

Jiang Wenxing dislikes Yano.

But it must be admitted that, apart from himself, Arno was very popular with other people.

Only Jiang Wenxing remained steadfast in his hatred of Yano, a hatred that lasted for two lifetimes.

Jiang Wenxing used to believe that a person's life is about going out into the world, looking up, and letting go of people who are useless. He was born in a tenement building and was so hungry that he was biting his fingers, while rich people could generously throw away food they had only eaten a little bit of.

But he stood in front of the half-eaten sausage, unable to bend down to pick it up.

The poorer you are, the less you want to be ignored; the more you are looked down upon, the less you want to be looked down upon.

But often the harder you try, the more painful it becomes, because life is not a novel where you can achieve success by simply working hard. More often than not, you are filled with anxiety and fear, and you have to be determined to go down a dark path to see the dawn.

Sometimes he doesn't understand why he can't achieve what he wants. He thinks about leaving everyone behind and becoming number one. But in front of those who can easily achieve success, he is too ambitious and tries too hard, and in the end, he is criticized for being too utilitarian and eager for quick success.

At that time, Jiang Wenxing thought he didn't care. He couldn't bow his head even once, because people live to live well, stand tall, and not be bullied. Only by completely severing ties with the past could he let others know that he was not poor, not stupid, and never lacked anything.

If he hadn't shared the fate of Kush, if he hadn't witnessed those sacrifices, he would probably have thought the same thing.

But none of that matters to him now.

Faced with Arno's sarcastic remarks, he felt only slightly annoyed, but not as furious as he had in his previous life.

Jiang Wenxing heard his own extremely calm, almost mocking laughter. He stated factually, "If you had also won first place and could get full marks in both practical theory, then you probably wouldn't need to study those more basic psychological counseling methods."

Arno's expression nearly cracked.

But after Jiang Wenxing finished speaking, he seemed to have no intention of continuing the conversation. He lowered his head and continued shelling beans by himself, ignoring whatever Yano said and completely treating Yano as if he were invisible.

Arno stared intently at Jiang Wenxing, then seemed relieved after a moment, a faint, ambiguous smile on his face: "So, as the top student in the province, you can continue shelling beans here."

Jiang Wenxing completely ignored Yano's words.

In the past, he always accomplished what he set out to do, so there was no reason for him to become discouraged just because he encountered a small setback.

The organization wanted him to be a cook, so he decided to be a qualified cook.

Revolution is like a brick; it can be moved wherever it is needed. Construction should not be about seeking glory or respect; there are many unsung heroes who make silent contributions.

Were those sentries who sacrificed themselves to protect Kush and the border fighting against the ant tribe with the thought of getting rich and beautiful?

No.

Were those civilians who were bombed and shot given supplies by the state at great risk for the sake of the compensation money?

No.

It is because they are soldiers, they are steel guns, they are sharp knives, they are soldiers who, in the light snow, under the national flag, swore to protect the motherland and the safety of the people's lives and property.

So how can it be said that ensuring these soldiers are well-fed and well-nourished is an unimportant task?

Not all jobs are admirable or worthy of newspaper coverage.

Jiang Wenxing figured it out. He sat by the stove and kept peeling beans for more than two hours. His fingernails turned from pink to yellowish-black before he finally finished peeling all the beans.

After shelling the beans, I went to peel the potatoes.

Basket after basket of potatoes had to be peeled all at once and soaked in snow water for later use. His body was ice-cold from the heat, but his heart was burning with passion. He was exhausted, his back was aching, and his head was covered in sweat. He had only peeled a little over half of the potatoes when someone slowly walked into the kitchen. They were surprised to see him: "Oh, what are you still doing here?"

Squad Leader Xiong, who was following behind, was also surprised, and the grass stem in his mouth fell out.

"Huh? It's still there?"

He pushed aside the soldiers blocking his way and peeked at Jiang Wenxing. Jiang Wenxing stood up, his face serious: "Squad leader, I've finished peeling, but I haven't finished slicing the potatoes yet."

Squad Leader Xiong swept over the two whole buckets of green beans, and his eyes widened as he looked at the pale-faced scholar's hands, which were now blackened by the green beans and potatoes and red from the snow water. His mouth twitched violently.

Jiang Wenxing wiped his face and said sincerely, "Squad leader, I'll be done peeling in a bit." Then he quickly sat down on the small stool and continued to huff and puff while peeling the potatoes.

Xiong Zheng: "..."

"Nonsense! Did I entrust these people to you for this kind of treatment? Peeling two buckets of green beans and cutting hundreds of pounds of potatoes..."

...Why won't you let me peel them for you? I'm going to the kitchen right now to see if there's anyone left in your cooking squad...

I……"

Jiang Wenxing, wearing a military overcoat, sat in the infirmary, unable to resist listening to the faint voices outside the door.

Captain Ilya, who had come with the old guide, was now sitting opposite him, applying medicine to his ten fingers, which were swollen like carrots.

"Hiss..." Jiang Wenxing pulled his hand back, but Ilya gently grasped it. Ilya looked up at him and said, "Don't move."

Ilya's hands were large, warm, and rough; Jiang Wenxing's fingers were now aching as if they had peeled.

Jiang Wenxing's nose was red, and his forehead was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He grimaced and said, "Captain, it hurts so much."

Ilya didn't speak. His giant wolf whimpered twice, lay down next to Jiang Wenxing, and nudged his knee with its head.

The snowmelt from the snow-capped mountains was very cold. Jiang Wenxing was focused on his work and soaked in the snowmelt for more than two hours. He went from feeling needle-like pain to numbness in his fingers. He never expected this to happen.

He didn't know how to explain it well, so he said bluntly, "I was too eager to get Squad Leader Xiong's approval, and I didn't expect it to turn out like this."

Ilya nodded: "I'll talk to the old guide."

Jiang Wenxing lowered his head; his fingers still hurt. The giant wolf was keenly aware of the guide's emotions and raised its large head to reach for its master's pocket.

Ilya patted his wolf's head, and the giant wolf howled, winked, and put on a very human-like expression that said, "Hey, stop pretending, take it out, take it out."

Ilya paused, then took a chocolate from his pocket.

The noise outside was loud, and the air was filled with the scent of frostbite ointment. Ilya's usually serious and cool expression became somewhat unnatural. The chocolate twirled between his fingers and landed in Jiang Wenxing's hand.

Author's Note: