In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

When Yang Guangming returned to his new home, which, though simple, was already beginning to feel cozy, the night was already as dark as ink, far past his usual time of returning home.

In the east courtyard, the windows of the main house emitted a dim, flickering glow from the oil lamp, which seemed particularly warm in the pitch-black night and also reflected the restless movements of the people inside.

He had just pushed open the slightly ajar door when his footsteps startled his family inside.

The curtain was flung open with a "whoosh," and Chu Yuanjun, the mother, rushed out first, her face filled with anxiety and worry. Seeing her son standing unharmed in the courtyard, she finally breathed a long sigh of relief, patting her chest, her voice still trembling with fear:

"Guangming! You're finally back! Why are you so late? Your mother was so worried, afraid something might have happened to you out there!"

Immediately afterwards, the father, Yang Huai-ren, also appeared at the door, leaning on a cane and supported by his younger sister, Jing-wan.

He looked his son up and down by the light, and seeing no signs of injury, his furrowed brows relaxed slightly, but his tone still carried reproach and lingering fear:
"Yes, Guangming, with all this chaos and war, it's dark and he's still not home. The whole family is worried sick. This must never happen again!"

Little sister Jingyi also peeked out, looking timidly at her brother.

A warm feeling welled up in Yang Guangming's heart; the care of his family was like the lamplight of this autumn night, dispelling his fatigue.

He quickly stepped forward, took his father's other arm, and said apologetically, "Dad, Mom, I'm sorry to have worried you. I'm fine, it's just that I spent a long time talking with Teacher Zhu this afternoon."

The family returned to the main room and sat down at the eight-immortal table.

Yang Huai-ren leaned back in his chair, carefully placing his injured leg on the low stool beside him. His gaze fell on his son's face as he asked, "What did Teacher Zhu want to see you about? Why did it take so long?"

Yang Guangming prepared his explanation early in the morning.

He gave a look that was a mixture of expectation and uncertainty, and said in a steady tone, "Teacher Zhu knows that I don't have a proper job right now, and fishing alone is not a long-term solution. He... he wants to introduce me to a formal job."

"A formal job?" Chu Yuanjun's eyes lit up immediately, and he asked repeatedly, "Really? Mr. Zhu introduced you to it? What kind of job is it?"

Even Yang Huai-ren's cloudy eyes suddenly lit up as he stared intently at his son.

In these precarious times, a stable, paid, formal job is something I wouldn't even dare to dream of! It gives me more peace of mind than my son risking his life fishing every day.

Yang Guangming felt the burning gaze of his family and carefully chose his words: "The teacher only mentioned it briefly, saying he would help make some connections, but we'll have to wait for news about what kind of job it is and whether it will work out."

This afternoon we were discussing this matter. He contacted a few friends, but nothing's been finalized yet. The teacher asked me to go over again tomorrow afternoon; I expect to hear back soon.

He had originally thought of making up a job, thinking that as long as he could bring money home on time every month, his parents would probably not investigate further.

However, considering the secretive and dangerous job I will be doing as a courier in the future, and the fact that my coming and going times and behavior may be different from ordinary jobs, I need a more reasonable excuse that is less likely to arouse suspicion.

He plans to discuss the matter in detail with Teacher Zhu tomorrow before giving his parents a formal and prudent explanation.

"Excellent! Excellent! Mr. Zhu is truly... truly a benefactor to our family!"

Yang Huai-ren nodded excitedly, the wrinkles on his face smoothing out because of the sudden good news. "No matter what kind of job it is, as long as it's a legitimate business and I can earn a living steadily, it's better than anything else!"
"Guangming, when you go tomorrow, be sure to thank Mr. Zhu properly, and tell him that you're willing to do any job and can endure hardship!"

"Father, don't worry, I understand," Yang Guangming solemnly replied.

Chu Yuanjun was overjoyed, clasped his hands together, and murmured, "Thank God, Mr. Zhu is truly a living bodhisattva... This is great! If he can really find a permanent job, our family will have hope for the future..."

Seeing the long-lost, heartfelt smiles of anticipation on his parents' faces, Yang Guangming felt at peace. This first step had been successfully completed.

Although the catch from fishing can solve the immediate problem of food and clothing, the psychological stability and hope for the future brought by a "formal job" cannot be compared with a few fish or a few pounds of rice.

That night, the atmosphere in the Yang family courtyard became exceptionally relaxed and full of anticipation because of this uncertain hope for "job".

The next morning, Yang Ming unusually stayed home.

He helped his mother tidy up the yard and checked on his father's leg injury recovery.

After several days of medication and rest, the swelling in Yang Huai-ren's legs has subsided considerably, and the purplish-blue color has faded. Although he still cannot walk, his complexion has improved significantly, and his eyes no longer hold a lifeless despair.

Lunch was a simple meal of cornbread with pickled vegetables and thin porridge, but the family ate with great relish, and the conversation always revolved around their plans to visit Teacher Zhu's house in the afternoon.

After lunch, Yang Guangming carefully tidied himself up and changed into a student uniform that, although slightly worn, was clean and starched, making him look more composed and capable.

He slung his usual bamboo basket over his shoulder and said to his family, "Dad, Mom, I'm going to Teacher Zhu's house. I'll probably have dinner there tonight, so don't wait for me or worry."

"Alright, alright! Go ahead, be careful on the road," Yang Huai-ren repeatedly instructed. "When you see Mr. Zhu, please be sure to thank him properly on behalf of our whole family!"

"Got it, Dad."

Yang Guangming walked out of the courtyard and arrived at the alley entrance of Teacher Zhu's house. He quickly immersed his consciousness into his space and took out the things he had prepared in advance—five catties of Northeast rice in an ordinary cloth bag, and five catties of wheat flour in the same cloth bag.

He carefully placed the rice and flour into the bottom of the bamboo basket, and then covered it with a blue cloth to keep it covered.

Since he would be going to Teacher Zhu's house to "work" often in the future, he would most likely have to have dinner there, and he could not and did not want to add to the burden of the already poor teacher's family.

This was a good opportunity to reasonably subsidize the teacher's family and also solve his own food problem there. The first time, he didn't bring too much, just ten kilograms of grain, which was enough to express his goodwill without being too conspicuous.

Arriving at Teacher Zhu's quiet little courtyard, he knocked on the door.

Mrs. Zhu opened the door as always.

Seeing Yang Guangming, she smiled gently and said, "Guangming is here. Come in quickly. Mingxuan hasn't returned yet. Please sit inside."

"Teacher's wife, I'm sorry to bother you." Yang Guangming walked into the courtyard carrying a bamboo basket.

He placed the bamboo basket at the entrance of the main room, took out the two bags of rice and flour from it, and sincerely said to Mrs. Zhu:
“Madam, I went to the river yesterday and got lucky. I caught a few big fish and traded them for some rice and flour. I figured we couldn’t finish them all at home, so I brought some over to help you, the teacher, and the children.”

When Mrs. Zhu saw the two heavy bags of grain, she froze, then waved her hands repeatedly, her face showing anxiety and unease.
"This won't do! This won't do! Guangming, your family is struggling too, and this rice and flour are so precious! Take it back right now! How can we accept your things!"

She knew about Yang Guangming's family situation. They had just separated from the family, and his father's leg injury had not yet healed. The family of five relied on him alone, and they must be struggling financially.

These days, food is more important than anything else. How could she accept the food that this child had saved up from between his teeth?

"Madam, please don't refuse."

Yang Guangming spoke sincerely, with an undeniable insistence, "My family is really doing well now. My dad's leg is much better after taking medicine. I can fish again now, and I even took on some odd jobs yesterday, so we have no problem making a living."

"You and my teacher have helped my family so much in the past. Now that I'm able to, it's only right that I repay your kindness. If you refuse, it means you're treating me like an outsider."

He paused for a moment, then continued, "Besides, Teacher, you've been working so hard for... for things outside, and you have so many children at home. You're not in good health either, and you need more nutrition. Please accept this, otherwise my parents and I will feel bad about it."

Looking into Yang Guangming's clear and firm eyes and listening to his heartfelt words, Mrs. Zhu's eyes welled up with tears.

She knew the child was sincere.

The family is indeed struggling. With the soaring prices of grain on the black market, Mingxuan's meager salary is barely enough to support the whole family. The three children are all at the age where they are growing and often don't have enough to eat.

These five pounds of rice and five pounds of flour were a real lifesaver for their family.

Her lips moved a few times, and finally she sighed, her voice choked with emotion: "You child... you're just too honest... well... well, your teacher's wife will shamelessly accept it. Thank you, Guangming, and please thank your parents for me."

"You're too kind, Madam." Yang Guangming smiled as he saw his teacher's wife accept the gift.

At 4:30 p.m., Zhu Mingxuan returned home on time.

As soon as he entered, he smelled the long-lost aroma of steamed buns, and a look of surprise appeared on his face.

Mrs. Zhu came forward and quietly told him about the rice and flour that Yang Guangming had brought.

After listening, Zhu Mingxuan remained silent for a moment, then looked at Yang Guangming, who came out of the study after hearing the noise. His eyes were complicated, showing both emotion and a sense of heaviness.

He called Yang Guangming into his study, closed the door, and said sternly, "Guangming, your teacher and his wife appreciate your kindness. However, this grain is too precious; please don't send any more. I know your family's situation; we can't let you..."

“Teacher,” Yang Guangming interrupted him, his expression calm, “Don’t worry, my family really doesn’t lack food right now. I have some tricks for fishing, and my catch has always been good. And, to be honest, last time we dealt with those two spies, we squeezed some money out of them, more than a hundred gold yuan. So, you really don’t need to worry about my food problem right now.”

He looked at Zhu Mingxuan, his tone becoming more sincere: "Now, I am your student, and also your comrade."

It is only right for comrades to help and support each other.

Your wife is not in good health, and the children are growing up. You have a heavy responsibility on your shoulders, so you must not neglect your health.

From now on, when I come to study, I'll take care of your meals. You can think of it as... an assignment given to me by the organization to take care of your family and ensure you have no worries.

Yang Guangming's words were reasonable, well-founded, and sincere.

Looking at his young yet composed face, Zhu Mingxuan was filled with emotion.

If Yang Guangming were merely his student, he would never have accepted such a valuable gift.

But now, their relationship is different. As Yang Guangming said, they are comrades, fighting side by side.

Funding for underground work was extremely tight, and the support that the organization could provide was limited; his family's difficulties were an objective reality.

Yang Guangming is capable and willing to share the burden. If he continues to refuse this favor, it will only create distance and hinder future work.

He patted Yang Guangming's shoulder heavily, his voice low and deep: "Good! Guangming, I'll remember your words. This kindness will be remembered by your teacher and the organization."

He didn't say any more words of thanks; some feelings are more precious when kept in the heart than when spoken aloud.

In the following time, Zhu Mingxuan continued to explain to Yang Guangming the nature of the organization, its goals, its current tasks, and its iron-clad organizational discipline.

His explanation was insightful and easy to understand, and by combining it with the current domestic and international situation, he gave Yang Guangming a more systematic and profound understanding of the cause he was about to embark on.

Yang Guangming listened very attentively, occasionally asking questions that were all to the point, demonstrating his strong comprehension and depth of thought, which surprised Zhu Mingxuan even more.

Dinner was indeed steamed white flour buns.

Although the dishes were still simple, consisting of only a dish of pickled vegetables and a bowl of vegetable soup, the genuine aroma of wheat made the atmosphere at the table completely different.

The children's eyes lit up as they looked at the plump, white steamed buns, and they ate them with extra relish.

Looking at the children's satisfied expressions and then at Yang Guangming sitting calmly to the side, Zhu Mingxuan and his wife felt a surge of indescribable warmth and hope in their hearts.

After the meal, Mrs. Zhu cleared the dishes while the children played obediently nearby.

Zhu Mingxuan called Yang Guangming into the study again and closed the door.

Under the oil lamp, the master and apprentice sat facing each other.

"Guangming, you need to come here often in the future. You need to give your family a reasonable explanation."

Zhu Mingxuan cut to the chase, "Your excuse of 'introducing me to a job' was excellent yesterday. What are your thoughts on what kind of job it is?"

Yang Guangming had already thought it over carefully. He slowly said, "Teacher, I want to tell people that you have found me a translation job. It involves translating foreign language materials for publishing houses or certain organizations."

He paused for a moment and then explained, "First of all, my English grades were pretty good in high school, so having that foundation makes it sound less abrupt."

Secondly, the translation work can be done at home, which is more flexible in terms of time and makes it convenient for me to go out and about at any time, so it is less likely to arouse suspicion.

It would be reasonable to carry some documents and books back and forth.

Moreover, this job is respectable, which explains why I earn more than a regular job, making it easier for me to supplement my family's income.

Zhu Mingxuan listened attentively, a look of approval in his eyes.

This excuse was indeed well thought out, almost perfectly matching the cover needs of underground workers—freedom of time, reasonable actions, and an explainable source of income.

He asked with interest, "Translation work? That's certainly a good idea. But, Guangming, with your foreign language skills, if such a job were offered... would you be able to handle it?"

He remembered that Yang Guangming was good at English when he was in school, but translating professional materials was another matter.

Yang Guangming nodded confidently: "Teacher, don't worry. I wouldn't dare say my level is very high, but reading and translating general materials shouldn't be a problem. If there's an opportunity, I can give it a try."

He has integrated memories from several lifetimes, and his language skills far surpass those of ordinary high school students in this era. Not to mention English, he also has considerable proficiency in the other major foreign languages, but he just hasn't had the opportunity to show it before.

Looking into Yang Guangming's determined eyes, Zhu Mingxuan chose to believe in this student who had repeatedly surprised him.

He pondered for a moment and said, "Since you have this confidence, then this is not just an excuse. I do know some friends who work in publishing houses and universities, and perhaps I can really help you find some translation work."

His tone became serious: "Having a real, respectable job as a cover will greatly improve your safety in the future. I will keep this in mind and ask about it as soon as possible."

"Thank you, teacher!" Yang Guangming expressed his heartfelt gratitude.

This is not only for cover, but also a real way to make a living and put parents at ease.

"I should thank you, Guangming. You've thought of everything very thoroughly," Zhu Mingxuan said with satisfaction.

The two then discussed some details, including how to describe the "job" to their families, and how to explain the job content and income.

That evening, when Yang Guangming returned home, his family naturally inquired about his work with concern.

Yang Guangming then explained the explanation he had discussed with Teacher Zhu to his parents in detail.

"Teacher Zhu said that his friend has already agreed to translate some foreign language manuals and articles on machinery, and he will be paid by the word count."

From now on, I'll go to Teacher Zhu's house every afternoon. It's quiet there, and I can ask him questions anytime if I don't understand something. I might come back a little late in the evening because I need to finish my manuscript.

Upon hearing that the job had been finalized, and that it was such a respectable translation job, Yang Huai-ren and Chu Yuan-jun were overjoyed.

"Excellent! Excellent! Excellent translation!" Yang Huai-ren exclaimed excitedly. "Mr. Zhu is truly... truly treats our family's affairs as his own! Guangming, you must do a good job and not make a single mistake!"

"Dad, don't worry," Yang Guangming said with a smile. "This job pays quite well, and our family's life will only get better and better in the future."

Chu Yuanjun wiped his eyes, his face beaming with uncontrollable joy: "This is truly wonderful... My son has made something of himself..."

Seeing his parents' happy faces, Yang Guangming breathed a sigh of relief. The first step had finally been successfully completed.

That night, the Yang family was immersed in immense joy and hope.

A decent and well-paid translation job was like a bright lighthouse in the darkness, illuminating the path forward for this small family who had just experienced the pain of separation and were struggling to make ends meet.

Yang Huai-ren felt that his leg injury seemed to be healing much faster, and the sorrowful wrinkles on Chu Yuan-jun's face were mostly smoothed out by his smile.

From then on, Yang Guangming's life entered a new phase.

Every morning, he would still carry a bamboo basket and go out. Sometimes he would actually go to the river to make a show of it, and sometimes he would use this time to scout out the terrain and familiarize himself with the streets and alleys of Beiping in preparation for his future work as a courier.

In the afternoon, he arrived at Teacher Zhu's house on time.

In the first few days, Zhu Mingxuan did not rush to teach specific skills, but continued to guide Yang Guangming in learning progressive ideas and the organization's policies.

He began by discussing the fundamental principles of Marxist-Leninist works, then, in light of the actual circumstances of the Chinese revolution, analyzed social contradictions and expounded on the Party's program and goals.

Yang Guangming demonstrated an exceptional ability to absorb and comprehend information.

He not only grasps the key points of theory quickly, but also combines his experiences from several lifetimes with his personal feelings in this life to offer profound and unique insights.

He spoke of the helplessness of the lower classes reflected in his father's injury, the soaring prices and the miserable plight of the people he saw on the streets, his hatred for the injustices of the old society and his yearning for the new world. His words were simple yet powerful, carrying heartfelt class sentiments and revolutionary consciousness.

Zhu Mingxuan was increasingly pleasantly surprised as he taught him.

He discovered that this student not only far surpassed his peers in theoretical understanding, but more importantly, he possessed a deep empathy for the working class and a firm determination to fight for them. This kind of ideological identification and refinement is fundamental to becoming a qualified revolutionary.

While the ideological education was steadily progressing, Zhu Mingxuan also began training the traffic officers in professional skills.

This part of the training is more specific and discreet, and is usually conducted behind a closed door in a study.

First and foremost is the most basic and crucial aspect – identifying and counter-tracking.

Zhu Mingxuan found a detailed map of Beiping City and pointed it out to Yang Guangming, instructing him on how to plan his route.

“Remember, never go in a straight line, never take the most direct or shortest route.” Zhu Mingxuan drew winding lines on the map with his finger. “Make good use of complex environments such as alleys, lanes, markets, teahouses, and shops. Before you set off, plan several alternative routes in your mind.”

He explained in detail how to observe what's behind you through glass shop windows, puddles on the roadside, and even the reflection of glasses; how to use natural actions such as suddenly stopping to tie shoelaces, buying things, or looking at notices to observe if there are any recurring figures; and how to sense the "sixth sense" of being watched by invisible eyes.

"If something feels off, it's better to take a longer route than to take any chances." Zhu Mingxuan's tone was unusually serious.

Next, he taught some simple anti-tracking techniques: suddenly accelerate, stop abruptly, turn around, enter a public place and leave through another door, strike up a conversation with someone pretending to ask for directions, or even quickly get on and off a bus, etc.

Yang Guangming studied extremely diligently. He possessed insight beyond his time and a keen awareness accumulated over several lifetimes. He grasped many key points at a glance and could even apply what he learned to other situations, proposing novel ideas based on the current environment, which secretly amazed Zhu Mingxuan.

Then there are the techniques for intelligence transmission.

"The core task of a courier is to deliver information and goods safely, accurately, and in a timely manner."

Zhu Mingxuan took out some props—small pieces of paper, matchboxes, cigarettes, and even a small piece of chalk.

He demonstrated various methods of concealing intelligence: hiding it in the lining of books, the soles of shoes, the brim of hats, the bottom of snack boxes, and hollowed-out chalk... Each method required being natural and inconspicuous, and also taking into account the need to deal with inspections of varying degrees of security.

He also taught Yang Guangming some simple secret writing techniques, how to use specific potions to write secret messages on seemingly ordinary family letters and account books.

Yang Guangming learned very quickly, and his spatial abilities even played an unexpected supporting role when practicing certain hiding techniques.

Of course, he did not reveal this.

"The handover of intelligence is of paramount importance," Zhu Mingxuan emphasized. "The location should be chosen with moderate foot traffic, a reasonable excuse to stay, and convenient for observation and evacuation. The timing must be precise. The code words and exchange phrases must be memorized and spoken naturally, like an ordinary conversation."

He set up several simple coded scenarios and rehearsed them repeatedly with Yang Guangming.

From chance encounters on the street exchanging secret codes, to whispered conversations while borrowing a light to light a cigarette in a teahouse, to inquiring about a book that doesn't exist in a bookstore...

Yang Guangming quickly mastered the skills and could adapt to different situations, making the rendezvous process seem seamless.

In addition, Zhu Mingxuan also explained the contingency plans and handling principles for unexpected situations, such as being followed by spies, encountering unannounced inspections, or the contact person not showing up.

"The most important thing is to stay calm. Never panic. Make full use of the environment, the rules, and even the enemy's psychological blind spots."

Then comes how to deal with emergencies.

"If you are questioned, you must remain calm. Your cover identity is that of a translator, so you must act like one. Your words and actions must be consistent with your role. Remember your 'background story,' and there cannot be any loopholes..."

If... if unfortunately arrested...

Zhu Mingxuan's voice became unusually heavy, his eyes fixed on Yang Guangming, "Remember, under no circumstances can you reveal any secrets of the organization, and you cannot betray any comrades. Be prepared to sacrifice for your ideals."

Yang Guangming met the teacher's gaze without flinching, his eyes clear and firm: "Teacher, I understand. From the moment I decided to take this path, I was fully prepared."

Zhu Mingxuan saw unquestionable loyalty and determination in his eyes, and felt both gratified and a little reluctant.

Zhu Mingxuan shared all his years of experience in underground work without reservation.

Finally, it's about gaining a deeper understanding of the urban environment.

Zhu Mingxuan required Yang Guangming not only to become familiar with the southern part of the city, but also to gradually understand the main streets, alleys, important institutions, transportation hubs, and even some less conspicuous abandoned houses, temples, factories, etc. that might be used for emergency hiding or relocation in the inner city, the eastern city, and the western city.

“Your mind is the most dynamic map,” Zhu Mingxuan said, pointing to Yang Guangming’s head.

Yang Guangming kept these requirements firmly in mind.

He already possessed familiar memories of old Beiping, and coupled with his exceptional learning and observation skills, he quickly constructed a more comprehensive and detailed urban map of Beiping in his mind.

In addition to these professional skills, Zhu Mingxuan also focused on training Yang Guangming's memory, observation, and adaptability.

He would have Yang Guangming quickly memorize a text or an address and then repeat it; he would have him describe the characteristics of someone he had just seen on the street; he would simulate various unexpected scenarios to test his immediate reactions.

Yang Guangming demonstrated amazing learning ability and talent.

Time flew by amidst the intense and fulfilling learning and training.

Yang Guangming's learning ability and speed of mastery far exceeded Zhu Mingxuan's expectations.

Whether in terms of the depth of his theoretical thinking or the proficiency of his practical skills, he is growing at an astonishing rate.

Originally planned to require a longer period of basic training, Yang Guangming was able to master all the basic skills required for a traffic officer in just about half a month. In the simulated assessment set up by Zhu Mingxuan, he showed extraordinary calmness and quick wit, even performing more composed and experienced than some veteran traffic officers.

Zhu Mingxuan watched him grow up so dramatically in such a short time, and his surprise had long since turned into numbness and ecstasy.

He realized that he might have inadvertently discovered a promising underground worker who could be considered a genius.

After the training, Zhu Mingxuan did not immediately let Yang Guangming carry out tasks independently, but instead took him to several less important courier jobs in the field.

For example, sending a document disguised as a regular business letter to a designated "dead mailbox"...

In these practices, Yang Guangming remained calm and alert, his movements clean and efficient, showing no signs of novice naivety or nervousness, as if he were born to do this job.

Zhu Mingxuan was completely relieved.

He originally planned to let Yang Guangming get used to things for a while longer, personally guide him through several practical tasks, and then let him act independently.

However, the grim situation often leaves people with little time to prepare.

One afternoon in mid-September, Yang Guangming arrived at Teacher Zhu's house before 4:30 as usual.

But today, Zhu Mingxuan returned much later than usual. It wasn't until 5:30, when it was already getting dark, that he hurried back to the courtyard, his face showing a hint of fatigue, and carrying a rather heavy-looking brown leather suitcase.

Upon entering, he didn't even have time to say much to his wife. He simply nodded and gave a wink to the approaching sunlight. The two of them then quickly walked into the study, one after the other.

Zhu Mingxuan carefully placed the suitcase on the desk, making a dull thud, indicating that it was quite heavy.

He turned around, his face more solemn than ever before, his gaze sharp as he looked at Yang Guangming, his voice extremely low:

"Guangming, the situation has changed. You need to carry out a mission alone immediately."

Yang Guangming felt a chill run down his spine, but he remained calm and straightened his back: "Teacher, please make the arrangements. I have made full preparations."

Zhu Mingxuan pointed to the suitcase on the table: "Inside here is a case of penicillin."

Penicillin! Sunlight caused Ming's pupils to constrict slightly.

In those days, this was a life-saving medicine more valuable than gold, a strategic resource extremely scarce on the front lines. The organization must have paid a heavy price and taken considerable risks to obtain this box of medicine.

"This batch of medicine must be sent out of the city immediately and handed over to our comrades outside the city."

I'll tell you the meeting place and the code later. You must remember it well; it's an important transit point for us, and we'll be using it frequently in the future.

Zhu Mingxuan spoke quickly but with perfect clarity, “The mission is very important, it concerns the lives of many comrades, there can be absolutely no mistakes, it must be completed!”

His gaze was fixed on Yang Guangming, filled with trust and a heavy sense of entrustment.

Without any hesitation, Yang Guangming met the teacher's gaze and said in a calm and firm tone, "I guarantee I will complete the task!"

Seeing Yang Guangming's calm and composed expression, Zhu Mingxuan felt slightly relieved, but his worries did not lessen.

He sighed, his brow furrowed: "Normally, sending medicine out of the city, although risky, is not too difficult to do."

But in the last few days, for some unknown reason, the entire city has suddenly been placed under stricter martial law, especially at the city gates and entrances, where checks are being conducted with unusually high intensity, and the items carried by people entering and leaving are being searched very carefully.

This mission... is extremely dangerous.

He gave a detailed account of the route out of the city, the specific meeting place, the code word, and the characteristics of the contact person.

“This box itself has a hidden compartment; the medicine is hidden inside.” Zhu Mingxuan demonstrated how to open the compartment. “You don’t need to prepare anything extra. However, how to deal with the search at the city gate is crucial. Let’s discuss it…”

The two of them looked at the map and discussed possible solutions in hushed tones: pretending to be students visiting relatives, sneaking out during peak hours, and how to deal with being questioned, etc.

Theoretically, there seemed to be no problem, but in the end, Zhu Mingxuan still patted Yang Guangming on the shoulder heavily:

"Plans can't keep up with changes, so you mainly have to rely on your adaptability."

Guangming, remember what I taught you: stay calm, observe, and make use of every available opportunity.

If... if the situation becomes truly dangerous, it's better to abandon the mission and save yourself! Medicine is precious, but your life is more valuable!

This was his last and most important piece of advice.

"I understand, teacher."

Yang Guangming memorized every detail that Zhu Mingxuan had explained.

With space in his refrigerator, delivering medicines safely out of the city was a piece of cake for him.

What seems like an insurmountable problem to others poses almost no risk to him.

But he couldn't show it at all; he simply nodded solemnly, perfectly conveying his seriousness and caution.

"There's no time to lose. You should leave first thing tomorrow morning. The checks might be a bit easier in the morning," Zhu Mingxuan said finally, his eyes filled with expectation and worry.

"Yes!"

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, Yang Guangming, carrying a bamboo basket, bid farewell to his family and headed towards the designated city gate.

Just as Zhu Mingxuan had predicted, the atmosphere at the city gate was tense.

The number of soldiers in yellow uniforms and police officers in black has increased significantly, and they are conducting extra thorough searches of pedestrians entering and leaving the city, especially those carrying luggage.

They searched through bundles, inspected baskets, and even scoured some well-dressed people.

The crowd waiting to leave the city moved slowly, and a sense of oppression and unease filled the air.

Yang Guangming stood in the queue, looking as usual, even with a hint of weariness and bewilderment typical of his age, who was rushing to work early in the morning.

He secretly observed the soldiers' search process and focus. Because the suitcase containing the medicine was placed in the refrigerator and the bamboo basket on his back was empty, he remained calm.

When it was his turn, a soldier asked gruffly, "What are you doing here?"

"Boss, we're starving at home. Let's go out of town and see if we can get some food," Yang Guangming replied casually, pointing to the bamboo basket.

The soldier gestured for him to open the bamboo basket.

Yang Guangming obediently lifted the lid, and found it empty.

After successfully passing through the city gate checkpoint, Yang Guangming did not let his guard down.

After leaving the city, he maintained his normal pace, walked along the dirt road for a while, and after confirming that no one was following him, he turned towards Sanlizhuang.

According to the map and information provided by Teacher Zhu, the meeting place is a secluded farmhouse on the edge of a small village called "Sanlizhuang" about five miles outside the city.

Upon arriving near the rendezvous point, he did not immediately retrieve the briefcase. Instead, he used his observation of the terrain and counter-tracking skills to take a detour. Only after confirming that it was safe did he retrieve the brown briefcase from his spatial storage in a secluded grove.

Having found the meeting place and carrying his heavy suitcase, Yang Guangming felt much more at ease.

He straightened his clothes and, like an ordinary young man, walked towards the agreed-upon farmhouse.

The courtyard was quiet, with adobe walls and a wooden fence gate that was ajar.

Following the code, Yang Guangming gently and rhythmically knocked on the door.

A moment later, a middle-aged man wearing a coarse cloth jacket, with a simple face but unusually wary eyes, opened the door. He was holding a pitchfork in his hand, as if he was working.

"Young man, who are you looking for?" The man looked Yang Guangming up and down, his gaze lingering on the suitcase in Yang Guangming's hand for a moment.

Yang Guangming, with a natural expression, said the first part of the code: "Uncle, is this Li Laoshuan's house? My cousin asked me to bring him some things."

The man's eyes flickered slightly, and he replied, "Li Laoshuan? We don't have anyone named Li Laoshuan around here. There is, however, a Zhao Laogen who has relatives in the city. Are you one of his relatives?"

The code was matched!
With a firm conviction, Yang Guangming continued, "Oh, I remember now, it's Zhao Laogen's house. My cousin's name is Wang Fugui, and he works as a waiter at the 'Ruichang' ship in the city."

The man's wariness faded, replaced by a simple smile. He stepped aside and said, "That's right, that's right. Please come in. Brother Fugui sent word a few days ago that someone is coming."

As Yang Guangming strode into the yard, the man quickly closed the gate.

The yard wasn't big, but it was fairly tidy. There was a pile of firewood in the corner, and a few chickens were foraging for food.

Upon entering the main room, the man's smile vanished, replaced by a serious and urgent expression. He lowered his voice and asked, "Comrade, was the journey smooth? Did you bring the goods?" His gaze returned to the suitcase.

"Successfully." Yang Guangming placed the suitcase on the old eight-immortal table in the room, skillfully opened the hidden clasp, lifted the top layer, revealing the penicillin injections tightly wrapped in oil paper underneath.

"The items are all here; please inspect them."

The man's eyes lit up when he saw these medicines, which were more precious than gold. He excitedly reached out and carefully touched them, his voice trembling slightly.
"Great! Excellent! The front lines desperately need medicine! Thank you so much, comrade! You've been a huge help!"

He quickly counted the quantity, and after confirming that everything was correct, he resealed the medicine and tightly grasped Yang Guangming's hand:
"Comrade, thank you for your hard work! My surname is Zhao, and I am in charge of this transportation station. Please go back and report to your superiors that 'the goods have been safely stored.'"

"I will. Comrade Zhao, you've all worked hard too."

As Yang Guangming felt the rough calluses on the other person's hands and the strength emanating from them, a sense of satisfaction welled up in his heart as he realized he had completed his mission.

The handover is complete; the core of the mission has been accomplished.

Yang Guangming didn't linger, politely declining Comrade Zhao's offer to rest and have a drink of water. He knew that leaving as soon as possible would be safer for both of them.

"The situation is tense, so I won't stay any longer. Comrade Zhao, take care!"

"Take care, comrade! Be careful on the road!"

After leaving Sanlizhuang, Yang Guangming remained vigilant, took a detour, and only after confirming that it was safe did he follow the flow of people through the city gate for inspection again, and safely returned to the city.

He didn't go straight home, but went to Teacher Zhu's house first.

When he knocked on the door of the small courtyard again, Mrs. Zhu, who opened the door, visibly breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing him and whispered, "Come in quickly, Mingxuan has been waiting for you."

Zhu Mingxuan was pacing in his study. Although his expression seemed calm, his clenched fists and the way he kept glancing out the window betrayed his inner anxiety.

Seeing Yang Guangming push open the door and enter unharmed, with a calm expression, Zhu Mingxuan abruptly stopped, his eyes flashing with surprise and relief. He rushed to greet him.

"Guangming! You're back! How are you? Is everything alright?"

His voice carried a hint of barely perceptible tension.

Yang Guangming smiled and nodded steadily: "Teacher, I have not failed you. The 'goods' have been delivered safely. Old Zhao asked me to tell you that the 'goods have been safely stored in the warehouse'."

Upon hearing the pre-arranged code, Zhu Mingxuan let out a long sigh of relief, his tense shoulders instantly relaxing.

He patted Yang Guangming heavily on the shoulder and said "Good!" three times: "Good! Good! Good! Guangming, you really didn't disappoint me! You did a wonderful job!"

He pulled Yang Guangming down to sit, eagerly asking for details: "Quick, tell me in detail, was it smooth going in and out of the city? Did you encounter any trouble?"

Yang Guangming recounted the process in detail, omitting the crucial parts about his use of spatial abilities, and only emphasizing how he used disguise, observation, and composure to pass the interrogation, and how he safely arrived at and left the rendezvous point according to the anti-tracking procedures.

Zhu Mingxuan nodded repeatedly, his eyes filled with increasing admiration.

"Excellent! Calm under pressure, meticulous thinking, and decisive action! Guangming, you completed this mission flawlessly!" Zhu Mingxuan didn't hold back his praise. "This batch of medicine was crucial, and you've done a great job! I will recommend you for commendation!"

“Teacher, this is what I should do.” Yang Guangming said sincerely, “I was able to complete the task successfully thanks to your careful guidance.”

Zhu Mingxuan looked at him with satisfaction, his heart filled with emotion.

This student, this new colleague, demonstrated a maturity and ability far exceeding expectations in his first independent mission of such importance. This filled him with confidence for his future work.

"Alright, mission accomplished. You must be tired. Go home and rest early. Remember, don't mention this to anyone in your family," Zhu Mingxuan concluded.

"I understand, teacher."

When Yang Guangming returned to that simple yet warm home, his family assumed he had gone to Teacher Zhu's house again to "rush on his translation."

His mother, Chu Yuanjun, heated up his food, while his father, Yang Huairen, asked him with concern if he was tired from work.

Looking at the faces of his family, filled with complete trust and hope, Yang Guangming felt a sense of peace. (End of Chapter)