There were no flowery words, no passionate love confessions.
Only a concise report, casual sharing, and... the final, extremely subtle yet incredibly weighty phrase, "Looking forward to Mumu."
Mingzhao's gaze lingered for a moment on the line that read, "Minglang and Comrade Gongzhu are to become revolutionary partners on the eighth day of next month."
Cousin Minglang, the cheerful and rough relative who offered her help in her darkest hour; Gongzhu, the gentle and kind doctor who silently healed her wounds.
They're actually getting married.
A strange feeling, similar to "gratification," rose like tiny bubbles in the depths of her calm heart.
Her gaze finally settled on the last two words.
"Longing for dusk."
Howard had never called her that affectionately before.
Dusk... as if carrying the warmth of the setting sun and the anticipation of returning home.
Her fingertips unconsciously brushed lightly over the two words.
The corners of her cold lips, in a corner unnoticed by anyone, lifted up very subtly, yet very really...
An almost invisible, fleeting arc.
The scene from the night before I left the family compound flashed uncontrollably through my mind:
In the dim light, Howard's passionate yet clumsy kisses, his calloused fingers tracing the side of her neck, his deep, suppressed breaths, and that promise etched into her ear, a promise imbued with the steely resolve and unwavering determination of a soldier:
"I won't get a divorce. I'll wait for you."
The warmth of her fingertips seemed to spread from the letter paper, gently caressing her slightly flushed lips.
She gently touched her lips, as if she could still feel the touch and warmth of that night.
There was no blushing or palpitation, no girlish behavior.
There was only a deep, rock-solid sense of security.
She carefully folded the letter along the original creases, put it back in the envelope, and then, with utmost care, tucked the envelope into the inner pocket of her work clothes, close to her heart.
Jiang Feng stood silently not far away, his sharp eyes not missing any of Ming Zhao's slightest reactions.
Seeing the barely perceptible curve of her lips, seeing her touching her lips and carefully accepting the letter, a subtle, gentle smile also flickered in the eyes of this cold-faced guard.
He knew what this letter meant to Mingzhao.
Just then!
Buzz—!
A very faint yet unusually sharp high-frequency vibration came from inside the mechanical knee joint of Jiang Feng's left leg without warning!
It felt like tiny steel needles were frantically piercing my nerves!
"Well!"
Jiang Feng let out a muffled groan, his face instantly turning pale!
He tensed up abruptly, and his right hand instinctively grabbed the metal support next to him!
The tremor came and went quickly, disappearing in an instant!
What happened?!
Jiang Feng's pupils suddenly contracted!
This mechanical leg, designed by Mingzhao himself and known for its consistently stable performance, has never experienced anything like this before!
That high-frequency tremor just now... was definitely not normal!
Is it a malfunction in the internal sensing system?
Or... the aftereffects of some kind of strong external electromagnetic interference?!
His gaze instantly sharpened to the point of being like that of a hawk, like the most vigilant hunting dog, sweeping across the entire noisy workshop!
The arc of the welding torch, the rotating machine tool, the moving crane...
Everything seemed normal.
But his intuition told him that what had just happened was no accident! A chilling sense of crisis crept up his spine.
Mingzhao also noticed Jiang Feng's sudden change in demeanor and his heightened alertness.
She suppressed the subtle turmoil caused by the letter, her cool gaze turning to Jiang Feng with a silent question.
Jiang Feng took a deep breath, suppressing the lingering fear in his legs and the turmoil in his heart, and shook his head slightly at Ming Zhao to indicate that he was alright.
But his right hand had already quietly rested on the gun handle at his waist, his knuckles turning slightly white.
The afterglow of the setting sun cast long shadows of the two people.
The workshop was still bustling with activity, but an invisible shadow had quietly descended upon it along with the briefly ignored high-frequency vibrations.
The huge assembly workshop was brightly lit, as if it were daytime.
The air was thick with the pungent smell of aviation fuel, cutting fluid, and sweat.
A massive metal frame sits on the open ground, the core structure of the "Shadow" prototype resembling the spine of a sleeping dragon, spanning a fixed frame in the center of the workshop.
There is no precision and cleanliness like at a galactic base here, only the ruggedness and passion of an era's industry.
The rivet guns roared like a series of drumbeats, deafeningly loud! The huge pneumatic wrench emitted a sharp screech as it tightened the load-bearing bolts, which were as thick as bowls!
The heavy metal sheet was slowly lowered by the crane, and the workers shouted in unison as they used crowbars and jacks to make millimeter-level fine adjustments to align it!
The blue arcs of the welding torch rose and fell, scorching the air and leaving behind a pungent ozone smell.
Three shifts! The machines never stop, even when the workers rest!
The workers had sunken eyes, but their gazes were bright, and their oil-stained faces were filled with a fierce determination to fight!
Technicians, carrying blueprints, weaved through the crowd, their voices hoarse from shouting, their work clothes soaked with sweat, their steps hurried!
The entire workshop was bustling with activity, every minute and every second burning with indomitable will and time.
Mingzhao stood on a temporary elevated platform, which served as the command center overlooking the entire assembly line.
She wore bulky blue overalls, her figure appearing exceptionally slender in front of the massive machine, yet she stood like a pillar of strength.
Her gaze swept over every key process step below, not missing the slightest deviation.
"Left wing rib, docking position number three, angle deviation 0.15 degrees! Calibrate!"
The clear, cool sound instantly suppressed some of the noise through the tweeter and accurately reached the ears of the team responsible for that area below.
"The rivet spacing on the S-shaped transition section skin of the air intake is out of tolerance! Rework is required!"
The instructions issued were beyond question; the workers and technicians were convinced of Mingzhao's judgment and immediately disassembled and rebuilt the parts.
"Engine gantry load-bearing test data, synchronized!"
She stared at the data sheet that had just been handed over, her fingertips quickly tracing the data, and instantly reported a correction parameter.
Her existence is like the most efficient supercomputer and quality inspection instrument.
Every instruction was precise and targeted, nipping potential delays of several hours in the bud.
The workers were already completely convinced of her authority and obeyed her every command.
Su Xuan was like a tireless robot, running back and forth between the elevated platform and the final assembly line.
He was responsible for putting Mingzhao's instructions into practice, coordinating the various groups, and handling unexpected problems.
Sweat streamed down his temples, and his voice was so hoarse that he could barely speak, relying only on gestures and hoarse shouts.
"Quickly! Three groups! Align the ribs! Angle! Angle!"
Su Xuan pointed to the left wing area, shouting at the top of his lungs.
"Rivets! Redo them! Spacing! Did you hear me?!"
He rushed to the air intake team and pointed to the problem area that Mingzhao had just pointed out.
"Test team! Adjust engine mounting parameters! Immediately!"
He shoved the note Ming Zhao had just given him into the hands of a technician who was rushing over.
Under Mingzhao's absolute control and Su Xuan's frantic execution, the entire assembly line, amidst noise and chaos, was rapidly advancing towards its ultimate goal!
The radar stealth fighter "Shadow" is gradually taking shape.
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