An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 293 What are you doing?
The engine sound then followed.

The tires spun around on the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust that billowed in the air before settling back down in a few seconds.

The vehicle drove south, gradually disappearing into the distance.

Less than half a minute later, the technician returned to the office carrying a matte black briefcase.

Meng Youyou immediately stepped forward, took the bag steadily with both hands, and hugged it tightly in her arms.

As the technician put the key back in the drawer, he explained the instructions to her: "Press the red button on the side to turn it on. After the preheating is complete, the green light will turn on. When it detects an electronic signal, the light will turn red and start flashing and vibrating."

Meng Youyou stood upright, her ears perked up, listening intently to every word, repeating them in her mind until she memorized them. Until she heard the closing remarks, "...Alright, that's all the key points. The rest is up to you."

Meng Youyou didn't waste a moment. Just like when she came, she rushed downstairs, burst out of the first-floor door, and then ran headlong north without looking back.

The small figure gradually disappeared at the end of the path, carrying with it a body full of energy.

...

When Meng Youyou stepped into the rest room again, she was no longer tense; she was full of fighting spirit.

As soon as she pushed open the door, the scene that greeted her eyes left Meng Youyou speechless.

On the coffee table, an enamel mug lay askew to one side, water spilling from its rim and spreading out in a large puddle on the tabletop. The water then flowed to the edge of the coffee table, dripping in a broken line onto the floor, turning the cement a dark gray.

Looking up, the young soldier's knuckles were bright red, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes were fixed on the metal pen in his hand, and he looked utterly dejected and helpless.

This scene was undoubtedly a huge blow to Meng Youyou.

At this moment, John Bart calmly stood up from the sofa, elegantly brushed off the wrinkles on the front of his suit jacket, and casually said, "Miss Meng, you've come at the right time. I just wanted to have a cup of hot water, but I was clumsy and accidentally spilled it."

"Look... I'm causing you trouble." He looked around and asked, "Quick! Where's a rag? I'll clean it up."

Meng Youyou's body seemed to freeze. The hand holding the suitcase handle clenched so tightly that her fingertips turned white, and the hard edge of the handle dug into the soft flesh of her palm.

John Bart's probing gaze lingered on Meng Youyou's face for a moment before sliding down to the conspicuous black briefcase in her hand. A sharp glint flashed in his eyes, and the man composed himself, asking, "What is this?"

...

The moment the red light came on, Meng Youyou's feelings were a mix of relief and heaviness.

Now that the dust has settled, the place is still a mess.

Some things are set in stone—the tapes on the assistant's side were destroyed, and the fountain pen was not spared either.

Witnessing crucial traces being erased time and again, Meng Youyou inevitably wondered if she could have done better over the past hour. Could she have been more cautious? Could she have been more quick-witted?

What are the standards for passing? How should she handle this situation?

Meng Youyou stared intently at the flashing red light, her emotions remaining calm as she stated, "Mr. Bart, our equipment has detected an unregistered electronic device in your personal belongings. Please cooperate with us for further examination."

John Bart was truly clever, understanding the principle of "don't put all your eggs in one basket," and he used a two-pronged approach. In the end, they actually found the thing in his belt buckle.

...

Three days later, Meng Youyou took a car to the only simple guesthouse in the nearby town, close to the dock.

Along the way, the scenery gradually changed. The trees became fewer and fewer, the road became smoother, and occasionally a few small stalls could be seen by the roadside, indicating that the area was becoming more populated.

Meng Youyou sat in the back row, her gaze drifting to the window, but she had no interest in the scenery. Her mind was preoccupied with the words she had heard from the section chief before she left: "The enemy is in the dark while we are in the light. They came prepared this time, with a meticulous plan. You only received the mission a day in advance, and to have done this well is already quite impressive."

Although we were unable to obtain conclusive evidence to convict him, at least we successfully thwarted his plot and eliminated a potential threat, didn't we?

The director patted her on the shoulder and said in a kind voice, "Many things cannot be accomplished overnight. It is inevitable that there will be flaws in the process. Experience needs to be accumulated slowly. Keep up the good work next time."

Xiao Bai once comforted her in a similar way: "We are all ordinary people. We can't do everything perfectly. As long as we do our best and have a clear conscience, that's enough."

In the past, Meng Youyou would have thought the same way, perhaps even more so. She didn't need anyone to find excuses for her; she could easily forgive her oversights and then carelessly move on from them.

The problem now is that she can no longer be completely at peace with herself.

Is it possible that only that person would tell her in a rigid and formal way, "I can't give you any leeway!" Their tone was gentler than anyone else's, yet their words were the coldest.

He always held every comrade-in-arms to the highest standards, and then held himself to even higher standards, leaving no room for error.

Unconsciously, Meng Youyou found herself having learned to hold herself to the highest standards, a habit ingrained in her very being. She didn't know if this was...good or bad. The guesthouse had two floors, with few rooms. John Bart and his assistant each had a single room on the second floor, with our personnel staying in a separate room in between.

After knocking and entering the house, John Bart didn't give her a single extra glance.

Meng Youyou didn't take it seriously. She took out the tape recorder, camera, and pen from her backpack one by one and then neatly arranged them on the table.

After finishing, Meng Youyou zipped up her backpack, turned around, and said to the brown-haired man standing with his back to the window, "These are all your personal belongings. You can check them now to see if they are damaged." Her tone was indifferent and businesslike.

Meng Youyou's voice wasn't low, but John Bart seemed not to hear it. He basked in the sunlight, slowly stretched, and let out a sigh of comfort that was hard to tell if it was genuine or not.

Seeing this, Meng Youyou did not urge him, but just stood there expressionlessly to keep him occupied.

After a while, the man casually strolled to the table with his hands in his suit trouser pockets. He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over the objects on the table, his fingers casually fiddling with the camera lens cap, appearing completely unconcerned.

Just as his fingers were about to touch the tape recorder, Meng Youyou stood to the side, expressionless, and added at the opportune moment: "The tape containing the controversial dialogue has been disposed of."

Upon hearing this, the man raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable.

“As for that pen,” Meng Youyou coughed, “and your belt, our technicians found a hidden miniature camera and an audio transmitter inside them respectively.”

"Although you 'accidentally' soaked the pen in hot water, rendering all the film inside emulsified and unusable, we have no way of determining whether it was used for illegal photography. However, you did not register this miniature camera with us in accordance with regulations beforehand, and according to regulations, we have the right to confiscate it."

"As for the device you hid in your belt buckle, although we did not successfully obtain the finished tape in operation, the act of concealing it on your person violated our relevant management regulations for external affairs and internationally recognized journalistic standards."

Hearing this, John Bart finally chuckled and said, "So you mean I'm not only going to come back empty-handed, but I'll also be wasting two pieces of equipment?"

“In conclusion,” Meng Youyou said, ignoring his dissatisfaction, raising her voice slightly, “your behavior has gone beyond the scope of normal news interviews and has completely destroyed the foundation of trust between the two parties.”

Your press pass and visa are hereby revoked, effective immediately. You are hereby ordered to leave the country within twenty-four hours.

"Okay, if there are no problems, my notification task is complete. Next, other colleagues will accompany you to the port and assist you with the exit procedures. Please pack your belongings immediately and prepare to depart." After saying the last sentence, Meng Youyou neatly picked up her backpack and turned to leave.

She turned her body halfway to the side, then suddenly stopped. Meng Youyou turned her face and said in a deep voice, "Mr. Bart, there is an old saying in our country that I would like to give to you."

Meng Youyou looked directly into the other person's eyes and said coldly, word by word, "Those who do many unrighteous deeds will surely perish."

Upon hearing this, John Bart narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Meng Youyou turned around to face the man. "Mr. Bart, you keep saying you want to witness the most cruel and real side with your own eyes and restore the truth to the international public."

You've been talking about justice, fairness, and human rights the whole time, but do you really care about those things?

As she spoke, Meng Youyou suddenly pulled a photograph out of her pocket, slapped it on the table, and also in front of John Bart.

"The landmine wreckage in this photo is the culprit behind the numerous wounds on the soldier you saw in the ward three days ago. However, this highly lethal weapon is widely deployed in areas where civilians are active, causing countless innocent casualties."

The foreign language markings engraved on the surface of the landmine in the photo are clearly visible. Are you choosing to selectively ignore them?

"If a person has completely lost even the last bit of conscience, is he still a human being?"
Having the ability to call white black is your skill, but where does this black dye come from?

I'm telling you, it comes from the color of your heart.

Meng Youyou thought that when she said these words, she would be filled with righteous indignation, her body would tremble, and her voice would be sharp and high-pitched. But when the moment actually came, she was unusually calm: "You clearly saw how many of our soldiers were experiencing inhuman suffering in the hospital."

In the calmest of voices, she cried out, each word a tearful lament: "Who is using weapons inhumanely?"

Each sentence was softer than the last: "And who exactly is using inhumane weapons?"

Meng Youyou ultimately didn't take the photo with her; she left it on the table at the guesthouse. As for whether John Bart eventually took it with him, she didn't know, nor did she care anymore.

Interests divide people into camps, and these camps incubate pre-existing stances. Some people are born to serve a predetermined stance, at the cost of being blinded and resorting to any means to achieve their goals.

In this way, right and wrong, truth and falsehood, black and white seem to become unimportant, and can even be reversed at will.

Meng Youyou has long since shed her unrealistic fantasies and is not so naive as to think that a few indignant accusations can awaken a person's long-dormant conscience.

This was merely a momentary impulse, and also a foolish act. Her belief that justice would ultimately prevail was a one-sided, unwavering idealism.

In this life, we must stubbornly believe in something! Perhaps at some special moment, it can support you to keep going; perhaps it can bring a touch of real warmth to your frozen and numb will.

But it will definitely let you know what you are doing, what you are persevering for, and why you are unwilling to give up.

Note: The character John Bart has no real-life counterpart. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.