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

Chapter 315 He had told her that.

Meng Youyou moved her backpack to her chest, unzipped it, and put the thin book inside.

Just then, the climax of a powerful and catchy song rang out from the stall. Meng Youyou immediately recognized that this was not her phone ringtone, after all, the style was too... age-gap.

Upon hearing the ringtone, the old man sitting on the small stool immediately reached into his pockets, then his pants pockets, and then his chest pocket, searching high and low, but still couldn't find his phone.

Meng Youyou carefully discerned the source of the sound, her gaze slowly settling on the tin box behind the small stool. She asked uncertainly, "Grandpa, is your phone in the box?"

Upon hearing this, the old man turned his head to look behind him, slapped his thigh in surprise, and exclaimed, "Oh dear, look at my memory!"

The old man rummaged through the box and pulled out a gold-plated old-fashioned keypad phone. The screen was still lit, playing a ringtone on a loop. Holding it up to the streetlight, he squinted at the caller ID, then answered, calling out, "Old Du, what's up?"

Meng Youyou didn't pay attention to what was being said on the other end of the receiver; her gaze had been fixed on the tin box ever since. Every now and then, she could hear the old man's booming voice: "Playing chess? I don't have time!"

"I really don't have time! I'm setting up a stall here at the lakeside square."

"How is running a stall boring? I have young men and women chatting with me every day to pass the time, which is much more interesting than chatting idly with you boring old folks every day!"

"Alright, alright, I'm not going to argue with you anymore. I'll play chess with you at the pavilion in the park tomorrow afternoon. I can't come tonight anyway, so find someone else!"

After hanging up the phone, the old man noticed that the girl at the stall was still there. A smile suddenly appeared on his face, and he said in a warm tone, "Young lady, are you planning to stay and chat with this old man for a while longer?"

Meng Youyou finally withdrew her gaze, which had been fixed on the spot for a long time. Her fingertips curled slightly as she slowly raised her hand and pointed to the red-painted characters on the old tin box. "Grandpa, did you used to work at the Municipal Cultural Palace?"

The old man looked back at the red lettering that had peeled off the surface of the box, and his face lit up with surprise. “Oh my, at such a young age, you actually know about this Cultural Palace?” He nodded with a smile, and then answered Meng Youyou’s question: “Yes, when I was young, I taught literacy in the night school classroom in the Cultural Palace.”

Upon hearing this, Meng Youyou immediately asked, "Grandpa, is this cultural palace still there?" Her voice trembled slightly, though she herself was unaware of it.

"He's long gone!" The old man waved his hand and naturally began to talk about his past career path: "The year the cultural palace closed, the night school also stopped operating. At that time, the general public's cultural level had improved, and literacy work was no longer a necessity. Later, I transferred to the street office."

Meng Youyou's heart, which had been through many ups and downs, sank again. The next second, she heard the old man continue to talk: "Speaking of which, that was more than 20 years ago. I thought that you young people only knew about the museum in the city center now and had never heard of its predecessor."

The old man was knowledgeable and could talk about anything. He then went on to talk about the history of the Cultural Palace: "If you ask me, the old Cultural Palace was the best! It used to be so lively and had all the necessary functions!"

"Want to exercise? The facilities are always available. Neighbors can get together and play ball—how fun! Want to have some fun? Watch a movie, listen to a play—there's nowhere to go! If your kids want to learn something, there are training classes available. It's suitable for all ages!" He paused, a hint of regret in his voice: "Later, the construction bureau did the planning and demolished the old cultural palace to build a museum. I understand, it's for the sake of our city's cultural image, to make it look more upscale. The things displayed inside are rare, but no matter how good they are, you can only stand there and look at them. It's nothing like the old cultural palace, which was so closely connected to the lives of ordinary people!"

Meng Youyou listened intently, her heart sinking and then rising again, like a drifting duckweed on water, never at peace, as if any ripple could easily shake its foundation.

...

The next morning, Meng Youyou got up very early and took a taxi to the Fanzhou Cultural Museum.

As the old man described, the museum's building silhouette is quite magnificent, with light gray exterior walls paired with large glass curtain walls, its lines simple yet grand. Meng Youyou did her homework online last night. This cultural landmark building, expanded from the old cultural palace, covers a total area of ​​over 6 square meters, with five floors above ground and one floor below ground. Its main theme is "connecting the ancient and modern cultural heritage and upholding the original aspiration of border defense," integrating three core elements: urban history, modern development, and border defense characteristics.

She opened the mini-program for booking her tickets, scanned the code, and entered the museum without any problems. As soon as she stepped through the gate, the interior landscape presented a modern and new style of decoration, which combined a sense of technology with cultural heritage, and was naturally very different from the scene she remembered.

Standing in the hall where light and shadow intertwine, Meng Youyou could no longer glimpse from here the hexagonal light green patterned cement tiles where they sat in circles playing the handkerchief game that year, the simple gray cement steps at the edge of the central open-air square, and the blue and white megaphones fixed on the cement pillars in the four corners where her voice had passed when she hosted the event.

Meng Youyou looked up and saw that the high, deep blue starry sky dome of the museum's entrance hall was covered with tiny specks of light, unlike when she stood in the square of the Cultural Palace back then, where she could see the blue sky, white clouds, and flying geese as soon as she looked up.

Following the signs in the museum, Meng Youyou passed through the cultural relics protection area on the first floor and went straight up the escalator to the border defense spirit themed hall on the second floor. This is a unique spiritual imprint of this border city. It transforms the oath of "not yielding an inch of land" to the border into tangible objects and relatable stories, so that the border defense spirit is no longer a distant concept, but a survival memory and value adherence that is integrated into the blood of the city.

Having learned from yesterday's wasted effort, Meng Youyou didn't have high expectations for this trip.

After all, the Meng Youyou I remember, in reality, didn't spend much time in this city, and most of the time she was in the military, with very limited contact with the outside world. The rapid development and changes over the past forty years have probably long since erased any remaining connection she might have had with this city.

However, the last glimmer of hope that Meng Youyou could think of was that no matter how a city changes and evolves, the deeds of heroes should not be washed away by the times.

As she walked along the red-background wall of deeds in the exhibition area, until... the name "Xie Minglang" suddenly appeared in her field of vision. At that moment, Meng Youyou almost burst into tears of joy. She covered her mouth and nose with her hands, her eyes wide open, staring incredulously at the photos and words on the wall, looking at them again and again.

He had told her, "Xie Minglang is my comrade-in-arms and also one of the first batch of new recruits I led." Meng Youyou remembered.

This is his comrade-in-arms, "his" comrade-in-arms!

Huo Qingshan, do you know? I've finally found your comrade-in-arms!