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

Chapter 327 Encounter
In June, Meng Youyou returned to school to attend the undergraduate graduation ceremony.

After the ceremony, Meng Youyou, wearing a navy blue graduation gown, walked out of the school gymnasium with the flow of people. She strolled through the tree-lined path with ginkgo leaves, amidst the sounds of camera shutters and suitcase wheels. Her roommates and she discussed where to have dinner that evening, and finally decided on hot pot with a high vote.

The four of them took the subway to the hot pot restaurant. While waiting for a table in the lobby, Meng Youyou received a call from a landline in another city. The screen displayed the location as "Nanyun Fanzhou". She paused for a moment, then swiped her finger across the answer button: "Hello?"

A steady and powerful male voice came from the other end of the phone, his tone rigorous and clear: "Hello, is this Meng Youyou, a student majoring in Mandarin at the School of Foreign Languages ​​of XX University? This is the Political Work Department of the Panzhou Military Sub-district of Nanyun Border Defense. I am Shao XX, the staff member in charge of recruitment. I am contacting you regarding this special recruitment of border language talents in short supply."

The surroundings were noisy, with diners talking loudly. Meng Youyou couldn't hear the complete content of the phone call. Holding her phone, she walked towards the parking area outside. The aroma of the hot pot broth gradually faded, and she managed to catch a few key pieces of information: "Fanzhou Military Sub-district?"

Meng Youyou's heart skipped a beat, and her thoughts were immediately drawn back to April—when she was searching extensively online for information about the Panzhou Border Defense Force, and she happened to see a "Notice on Soliciting Intentions for the Recruitment of Language-Skilled Personnel in Short Supply in Panzhou Border Defense," with the words "Special Program (Exempt from Written Examination)" written next to the title.

At that time, it was purely out of desperation that Meng Youyou, upon seeing the keyword "Fanzhou Military Sub-district," inexplicably filled in the registration link below the notice without thinking twice.

But after calming down, she didn't have high hopes for it, since the announcement clearly stated: "In principle, priority will be given to those with a master's degree or above from a top-tier university, who meet the requirements for Mandarin oral and written translation skills, and those who have additional knowledge of cross-border ethnic languages, such as X language, XX language, etc., will be given priority consideration."

She was just a recent undergraduate graduate, so it was highly likely that her application would be ignored.

"Meng, can you hear me?" the man on the other end of the phone asked softly.

"Yes, I can hear you! Hello, Professor Shao!" Meng Youyou came to her senses. "I remember the application form, but... I am an undergraduate graduate. The notice said that graduate students would be given priority, so I thought I didn't meet the requirements."

“Here’s the thing,” the man on the other end of the microphone explained clearly, “As border military-civilian coordination and foreign-related liaison work continues to upgrade, the demand for Mang Guo language and related cross-border ethnic language talents has further expanded. With the approval of higher authorities, this special recruitment has relaxed the academic requirements to a bachelor’s degree or above from a Double First-Class university. Your academic background, language qualifications and volunteer experience all meet the core requirements of this recruitment.”

Meng Youyou's fingers tightened slightly as she carefully noted down what was being said: "This is to formally inform you that you will be attending an in-person interview at 9:6 AM on June 15th," the man continued, speaking at a measured pace, each sentence clear and unambiguous. "The specific address, interview instructions, and materials to be prepared in advance will be sent to your registered mobile number via SMS. Please check your messages."

"Okay! I understand!" Meng Youyou quickly replied.

"Does this time conflict with your scheduled in-person interview? Will you be able to arrive at the designated location on time?" the man routinely inquired.

“There’s no conflict, I confirm my participation!” Meng Youyou answered without hesitation, adding, “I will definitely prepare for the interview carefully, and I thank the military for giving me this opportunity.”

"You're welcome. This is because your qualifications match the job requirements." The man's tone softened slightly, and he added a practical suggestion: "If there are any adjustments later, we will contact you as soon as possible. Before the interview, you can briefly learn some basic knowledge such as military foreign affairs discipline and commonly used bilingual terminology for border control. I wish you a successful interview."

"Okay, thank you!"

"Goodbye."

Immediately after the call ended, a text message popped up on my phone. The message contained detailed information about the interview time and address, the interview process, and a list of required documents. It also noted at the end: "This recruitment has been reported to higher authorities for record-keeping and will strictly adhere to the relevant regulations for the recruitment of civilian personnel in the military to ensure fairness and impartiality."

…In July, Meng Youyou successfully passed the interview and was recruited by the military. In accordance with the procedures, she went to the designated military hospital for a pre-employment physical examination.

Holding her medical examination form, Meng Youyou followed the signs through the long corridor of the hospital's medical examination building. She had just finished her blood routine and electrocardiogram when the nurse informed her that the equipment for the next procedure, a chest X-ray, was undergoing its annual calibration and was temporarily out of service. She needed to move to the backup machine room in Building 3, and the nurse carefully instructed her: "After you leave the building, just walk straight along the garden path, through the green recreation area, and you'll be there. It's not far."

Meng Youyou nodded and followed the directions to turn into a path paved with cobblestones. On both sides of the path were groves of boxwood bushes, interspersed with small pink, red, and purple flowers. When the wind blew, a fresh scent of grass, leaves, and flowers wafted over.

After walking about a hundred meters, I indeed saw a spacious recreational area. Several lush camphor trees provided a large area of ​​shade, and under the trees were a few stone tables and benches, where several men and women dressed in hospital gowns were sitting together leisurely chatting.

On an open space not far away, several fitness equipment are neatly arranged—parallel bars, treadmills, and waist twisting discs, all common models found in parks.

Meng Youyou intended to walk quickly through, but her gaze suddenly stopped when it swept over an upper limb traction device.

He was wearing a loose, light gray hospital gown, his back ramrod straight. He gripped the handle of the traction device with both hands, but his arms were far from being strong, firm, or full. Even the simple up-and-down traction movements were not smooth for him; in fact, he seemed to struggle with them.

A ray of sunlight pierced through the lush foliage and fell on his shoulder, outlining the broad yet slightly thin profile of the man's shoulders. That back view... Meng Youyou's heart clenched suddenly, as if something was kneading and vibrating it violently, causing her breathing to stop abruptly, leaving her feeling as uneasy as if she were in a hangover.

Actually, he's not that much like him. The person I remember is mostly tall and brave, agile and strong, which doesn't quite match the man in front of me.

But Meng Youyou had also embraced his emaciated body and whispered "I miss him" on his bony shoulders. She had seen him at his weakest and most helpless in life. That's why she was so dazed at this moment, hesitant to step forward and confirm the "verdict."

She hated God's casual pranks—when he was bored, he would play tricks on the weak, resigned humans, first casually scattering a ray of dawn upon the world, then lightly withdrawing it all. This allowed "him" to properly observe how "these ridiculous toys" could stage dramatic shifts in joy and sorrow in an instant, leisurely savoring their anger yet helplessness, disappointment yet unwavering spirit, brokenness yet defiant resilience—such brilliant and layered emotions, like a superior person elegantly sipping a bottle of red wine, appreciating its multiple flavors.

Meng Youyou stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly as the man's arms gradually increased the range of motion of the traction device. Her neck moved back and forth and side to side to coordinate with the series of movements, and the man's profile was gradually revealed.

His defined brow bone, high nose bridge, and the curve of his jawline... it's him.

Damn God... no, I mean, Your Majesty God, I will never curse you again!

The man who was exercising vaguely heard hurried footsteps behind him, running quickly toward him. The closer they got, the more strange the sound became, as if they were heading straight for him.

Strangely enough, the man turned around at the sound, and the next moment, a soft, warm body rushed into his arms, carrying a faint scent of peaches.

The man's hand hadn't even had time to slip off the grip of the traction device when his body tensed up, as if he had been put on pause.

He had no idea that someone would suddenly rush over, especially a strange girl who was hugging him tightly and crying uncontrollably. This... was tricky.

After a few seconds, the man remembered his right hand, which he had left raised high. He finally stiffly and slowly released it from the traction device, but he still didn't put it down completely. Instead, he raised it slightly and let it hang at his side, keeping pace with his left hand, which was "standing in mid-air as punishment." His whole body exuded an awkwardness and bewilderment, as if he didn't know how to put it down.