A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

Chapter 1074: Only when the boomerang hits your own face do you realize how painful it is.

The base's security office, in a large room that had been converted into a detention room.

Zuo Peng was frowning at a table full of documents, his pen almost bitten off, and he had only managed to squeeze out a few dry sentences for his "profound self-criticism".

He threw down his pen in frustration, looked up and sighed, "This is fucking worse than being stuck in the trenches back in the day..."

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Zuo Peng glanced over subconsciously, and when he saw who was being "accompanied" in by two soldiers, he was first stunned, then his eyes widened suddenly, and his face instantly brightened, bursting into a wildly joyful smile.

"Old Qiu!"

Zuo Peng slammed down his pen, sending the documents flying half a foot away. He sprang up from his chair, his face beaming with the uncontrollable elation of someone who has been cooped up for a long time suddenly seeing a familiar face.

"Hahaha! I was wondering which Bodhisattva had appeared to save me—I never expected it to be you!"

He rushed forward in a few steps, grabbed Vice Minister Qiu's hand, and with his other hand he picked up the officer's wool coat draped over the back of the chair.

"I knew it! When it really matters, you have to rely on your old buddy! No wonder you're the boss's favorite! Everyone says you're good at both interpersonal relationships and getting things done, but at first I didn't believe it."

He tugged at Vice Minister Qiu, but couldn't budge him, so he simply draped his coat over his arm and continued his animated expression:

"But it seems today that your description of 'good at cooking' was really accurate! Let's go! I can't stand this lousy place for another second!"

"You wouldn't believe it, the beds here are as hard as steel plates, the canteen doesn't even have chili peppers, and you have to dig deep into your soul to write a reflection—I've been in the army for thirty years, and I still don't know where my soul is!"

He tugged at it again.

It still wouldn't budge.

Zuo Peng's smile froze for a moment.

He turned around, his gaze slowly moving down from Vice Minister Qiu's face—that familiar uniform, that familiar face, that familiar Old Qiu who was always adept at handling all kinds of situations.

At this moment, he stood there like a wooden stake, a forced smile on his lips.

"……how?"

Vice Minister Qiu's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't answer, but instead casually took two steps forward, his gaze falling on Zuo Peng's desk piled high with documents.

Confidentiality Management Regulations, paperback, not thick.

There are only seventeen chapters and three hundred and forty-three articles.

What is that thing next to me, as big as a brick, big enough to kill someone?

He squinted and made out the words on the cover: "Explanation of the Regulations and Compilation of Typical Cases (1963 Revised Edition)".

The spine of the book is already frayed.

In one corner of the desk, there was a stack of lined manuscript paper, densely covered with writing. The title of the top sheet was "Personal Reflections (Twenty-first Draft)," followed by a large red cross.

"Haha, it's a good thing that you can still keep studying even when you're imprisoned." Vice Minister Qiu heard his own voice sound dry, as if it were borrowed from someone else's throat.

Zuo Peng was stunned for a moment.

The next second, he swung his arm and slammed the officer's wool coat to the ground!

"Study my ass!"

Zuo Peng shook off Vice Minister Qiu's hand, and facing the two still expressionless base soldiers at the door, his finger almost touching their noses, spitting as he spoke:

"Old Qiu! You don't know!"

"I thought it would just be a matter of memorizing regulations! Seventeen chapters! Three hundred and forty-three articles! I'm going all in. I'll just not eat, drink, or sleep, and consider it going back to basic training!"

"Who knows! Who knows those bastards have no sportsmanship!" Zuo Peng suddenly turned around and slammed his fist on the pile of documents on the table, which was as heavy as a brick, his fingers trembling.

"Besides the regulations, there's this damn thick explanatory notes! And a damn compilation of typical cases! How many is 'a damn thick'?"

"Oh? That's a whole set of the Twenty-Four Histories, several kilobytes thick!"

He grew increasingly agitated as he spoke, then turned to the soldiers, his chest heaving violently. Clearly, the "studies" of the past few days had left him deeply resentful: "And those bullshit reflections! Digging into the depths of your soul! I've dug twenty-one times! All I get is mud! What exactly are you trying to dig out?! Huh?!"

"It's one thing to just dig! But you also have to 'deeply understand the implications'! And you have to 'conduct a profound self-examination in light of your own reality'! How can I combine that with reality?"

In reality, I shouldn't have come here at all.

I've written seven or eight drafts! I've changed my approach eight times! From ideological understanding to work style improvement, and then from work style improvement to my ancestors for eighteen generations! I just can't get it right!

Perhaps it was Vice Minister Qiu's arrival that gave Zuo Peng a sense of confidence, for he actually rushed up to the two soldiers and pointed his finger at them, as if he wanted to vent all his pent-up frustration:

"You! And you! Just you wait! When I get out of here, if you don't memorize this pile of junk by heart and write a hundred soul-searching reflections, then I, Li, have wasted my time wearing this uniform! And I've been the deputy commander of the navy for nothing!"

The two soldiers remained expressionless. Only one of them twitched his eyelid very slightly.

Zuo Peng was still furious and about to start cursing again when he caught a glimpse of Vice Minister Qiu's actions out of the corner of his eye...

He was stunned.

Just as Zuo Peng was pointing at the soldiers and angrily threatening them, Deputy Minister Qiu took advantage of the chaos to move to the chair Zuo Peng had just been sitting in, his face showing an almost numb weariness and resignation, and slowly sat down.

Zuo Peng opened his mouth.

"...Huh?"

The officer's overcoat he had just picked up fell to the ground again.

"No, why did you sit down?"

A dull thud came from behind.

Zuo Peng suddenly turned around.

The iron gate was slowly closing with the combined efforts of the two soldiers.

Locking tongue card entry frame.

Click.

Zuo Peng's gaze slowly shifted from the tightly closed iron gate back to Vice Minister Qiu, who was sitting upright at his desk. Old Qiu had his head down, flipping through the "Explanation of the Regulations," his profile cast a dim shadow by the desk lamp.

"...Old Qiu."

Zuo Peng's voice suddenly became very soft.

"So... you're here to study too?"

Vice Minister Qiu did not look up.

He simply turned a page and said in a calm, almost numb tone:

"Chapter 21, Section 6 of the Regulations states: 'During the period of detention, the person under investigation shall actively cooperate with the organization's investigation and truthfully explain the situation.'"

Vice Minister Qiu paused for a moment.

"Let me see the beginning of your reflection, and teach me how to write it."

Zuo Peng stood still, looking down at the crumpled woolen overcoat at his feet.

He suddenly chuckled.

The laughter was short and sharp, like a sigh, or like being choked by a gust of northwest wind.

He bent down, picked up the coat, and instead of putting it on, casually draped it over the back of the chair, where it mingled with Vice Minister Qiu's uniform.

Then he sat back down in his chair, pulled out a brand new lined notebook from under the stack of red-crossed manuscripts, and pushed it across the table.

"Give."

Vice Minister Qiu accepted it.

The two sat side by side, each facing a desk lamp and guarding a stack of white paper.

The night outside the window was dark, and the distant sound of waves could be faintly heard, along with the metallic scraping sound of a jack lifting an armored vehicle while a tire was being repaired.

Zuo Peng, chewing on his pen and staring at the ceiling, suddenly muttered something out of the blue:

“When I used to ask people to write reflections, I always felt that those who couldn’t submit them had a problem with their attitude.”

He didn't look at Vice Minister Qiu, and it was unclear whether he was speaking to her or talking to himself.

The pen tip touched the paper, leaving a hesitant ink mark.

"Now I know."

"The person who made this thing is a fucking idiot."

In the room, only the scratching sound of two pens moving across different sheets of paper and two sighs that occasionally mingled together could be heard.

The pale light in the detention room illuminated two silent "classmates" engrossed in their writing, casting long shadows on the cold floor.

Outside the window, the distant night sky was as black as ink, with only the waves tirelessly crashing against the reef.

"Splash... splash..."

Suddenly, a cheer erupted:

"Haha! I told you epoxy resin is good! We used it to patch up our Nanning ship! It can even glue up a warship, so there's no reason it can't fix a tire!"

"Hehehe, old boss, it has to be you!"

"By the way, what brings you here?"

"Hey hey hey..."

"None of your business!"