Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

"Thump, thump, thump."

The wooden door, which had just been adorned with the sign "Office of the Director of Shenzhou Machinery Bureau," was gently knocked three times. The rhythm was restrained, the force even, conveying a sense of official rigor.

Shen Jinghong, engrossed in a mountain of construction blueprints, shouted without looking up, "Go in!"

The door was pushed open, and a familiar, very faint scent of jasmine entered the room before the footsteps could be heard, instantly dispelling the strong smell of tobacco that filled the room.

Shen Jinghong paused for a moment, the taut line at the corner of his mouth, previously tense from the heavy workload, softening instantly. He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing over the stacks of documents and landing on the figure at the door.

Lin Qinghan stood there.

Today she changed into a brand-new dark gray cadre uniform, well-tailored, with the top button fastened all the way up, giving her an austere and capable appearance. She held a kraft paper file folder in her hand, and the black-rimmed glasses on her nose reflected the light, trying to create an aura of "I am very serious".

Unfortunately, her usually aloof face was now flushed with two blushes that she couldn't suppress, like a thin layer of rouge, which spread all the way to her ears.

"Director Shen."

Lin Qinghan walked to the desk, snapped to attention, and handed over the file folder with both hands, her voice taut:

"Lin Qinghan from the Confidential Office of the Commission of Science, Technology and Industry for National Defense, hereby reports for duty on the orders of Marshal Nie. This is my transfer order."

Shen Jinghong did not answer.

He leaned back comfortably into his chair, observing with interest the genius Lin, who was trying his best to play the role of "subordinate."

"Comrade Lin, we've got this kind of relationship already, why are you still putting on this formality?"

He pointed to the file folder, his tone full of mockery, "I watched Marshal Nie sign this transfer order last night, and the ink on it probably hasn't even dried yet."

Lin Qinghan's composure crumbled at his words, her face turning even redder. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to maintain her composure, placed the file folder on the table, and adjusted her glasses:

"This is the workflow. I am now your confidential secretary and special assistant, responsible for the safekeeping, transfer, and..."

She paused, seemingly finding it difficult to speak.

"And what?"

Shen Jinghong leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, his deep eyes filled with a mischievous smile, like a big bad wolf teasing a little white rabbit.

"And responsible for the director's schedule and... daily life."

Lin Qinghan spoke the last four words extremely quickly, as if they were hot potatoes.

"Oh—daily life."

Shen Jinghong deliberately dragged out the last syllable, her smile deepening, "Assistant Lin, do you understand the nature of this job? A confidential secretary needs to be available at any time. And as a special assistant, to ensure my safety and work efficiency, sometimes you might have to..."

He lowered his voice, adding ambiguously in a volume only the two of them could hear:

"...close protection."

"Is this considered an office romance? Marshal Nie said we can't let building airplanes interfere with it."

Lin Qinghan felt a surge of heat rush to the top of her head, and she didn't know where to put her hands. This bastard! It was supposed to be a proper work arrangement, but how did it become so inappropriate coming from his mouth?

But she is, after all, Lin Qinghan.

She was the woman who dared to outwit and outmaneuver the special agents on the ship and who dared to help Shen Jinghong hide the F-86 blueprints.

Her shyness was only temporary; her intelligence was what truly mattered.

"Director Shen, please correct your attitude."

Lin Qinghan took a deep breath, and a cold glint suddenly flashed in her eyes hidden behind her glasses. Instead of retreating, she advanced, even placing her hands on the desk and looking down at Shen Jinghong, her aura instantly reversed.

According to Article 5 of Chapter 3 of the "National First-Level Security Regulations," the personal emotional state and private life of core personnel handling classified information fall under the highest level of surveillance.

A subtle hint of bitterness and murderous intent suddenly crept into her usually cool voice.

"As your special assistant, I have the responsibility and the obligation to rigorously vet every female creature that appears around you."

"in particular……"

Lin Qinghan narrowed her eyes, extended a slender finger, and gently tapped Shen Jinghong's chest:

"To prevent some weak-willed bureau chiefs from being taken advantage of again by some blonde, blue-eyed foreign female agent, or a perfume-scented neighbor lady using a 'honey trap'."

Shen Jinghong was stunned.

Looking at the woman in front of him, exuding a powerful aura and still using "rules" to intimidate him despite her jealousy, his heart raced wildly in that instant.

So cute.

This kind of high-IQ jealousy is a hundred times more deadly than the kind of tantrums and rolling on the ground.

"Cough cough."

Shen Jinghong coughed twice to cover his mouth, then raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Assistant Lin is right. I guarantee that from today onwards, within a five-meter radius, not even a female mosquito will be able to fly in, except for you."

"That's more like it."

Lin Qinghan withdrew her hand with satisfaction, straightened her posture, adjusted her clothes, and resumed her aloof and unapproachable demeanor. "Also, your dormitory is right next to the office. For work convenience, my dormitory is arranged opposite yours. Remember to lock your door at night; I might check up on you at any time."

"Checking up on me?"

Shen Jinghong's eyes lit up. "You're welcome to come and check anytime. I don't lock the door."

"you……"

Lin Qinghan rolled her eyes at him, turned around and walked to the filing cabinet next to her, where she began to skillfully organize the messy drawings. Although her back was to Shen Jinghong, she couldn't hide the smile on her lips.

outside the office.

Chen Weiguo, the guard platoon leader in charge of the sentry post, was holding his gun and staring at the ceiling with a pained expression.

The soundproofing in this room is pretty good, but the sour, foul smell just keeps wafting out.

"Is this what it means for cultured people to date?"

Chen Weiguo stroked his stubble-covered chin and muttered under his breath, "Not a single 'I love you', just 'regulations' and 'work.' It's giving me a toothache. But... it seems our bureau chief's status in the family is a bit precarious."

Night deepened.

The cold wind howled outside the window, pounding against the glass and making a whistling sound.

But this simple office was warm and cozy.

The headlights were off, leaving only a table lamp. Under the dim light, Shen Jinghong was hunched over the table, frowning at the F-86 engine improvement blueprints.

Although the original drawing was available, the processing precision in China was insufficient, and many tolerances had to be recalculated, which was a huge and complicated project.

"This damn combustion chamber..."

Shen Jinghong rubbed her slightly swollen temples, and her stomach also protested with a series of "gurgling" sounds.

When I'm busy, I don't realize it, but when I stop, I find that I haven't had time to eat breakfast or lunch. Now it feels like there's a hand scratching at my stomach, and it's burning.

Are you hungry?

A soft voice sounded beside me.

Shen Jinghong turned her head.

Lin Qinghan had put down the documents she was holding at some point and was standing beside him. She had produced two aluminum military mess kits from somewhere and was carefully placing them on the corner of the table.

"The cafeteria chef has already left work."

As she spoke, she opened the lid of the lunchbox, and an enticing aroma of food instantly filled the air. "This is something I specially saved for you for dinner; it's been kept warm on the radiator."

The lunchbox was full.

Half of the meal consisted of white rice, and the other half was braised pork with potatoes, glistening with oil—it looked incredibly appetizing. In this era of scarcity, this was a top-tier meal.

"Qinghan, you are simply my savior."

Shen Jinghong felt her mouth watering and, disregarding her image, grabbed her chopsticks and began to wolf down her food.

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you."

Lin Qinghan sat down opposite him, holding another lunchbox in her hands, and ate very politely.

She looked at Shen Jinghong, who was starving, with eyes so gentle they could melt ice and snow. She didn't say anything, but occasionally put some meat from her lunchbox into Shen Jinghong's bowl.

"You should eat too, don't just give it to me."

Shen Jinghong's mouth was full, and he spoke indistinctly.

"I'm not hungry, I'm on a diet."

Lin Qinghan told a clumsy lie, then pushed a piece of draft paper in front of Shen Jinghong and pointed to a formula on it:

"I saw you calculating the swirl ratio in the combustion chamber. I think that if we lower this parameter by 0.03, although we will lose a little thrust, we can significantly reduce the precision requirements for the fuel injectors. With our current lathe capabilities, this is more realistic."

Shen Jinghong paused with her chopsticks.

He swallowed the food in his mouth, picked up the draft paper and looked at it carefully. His eyes lit up instantly.

"genius!"

He slapped his thigh. "How could I not have thought of that? This is called sacrificing performance for a higher yield rate! Qinghan, your investment has saved the workshop at least a month of debugging time!"

"Eat your food."

Lin Qinghan's lips curled slightly as she lowered her head to take a bite of rice, concealing the smile in her eyes.

This is their kind of romance.

There were no romantic moments under the moon, no vows of eternal love.

All that exists are two hearts burning for the same goal, a box of braised pork on a hungry night, and a piece of draft paper covered with formulas.

"Sparse and cold".

Shen Jinghong suddenly stopped eating and looked at her.

"What's wrong?" Lin Qinghan looked up, a grain of rice still stuck to her lips.

"It's so good to have met you in this lifetime."

Shen Jinghong reached out and gently removed the grain of rice from her mouth, then casually put it into his own mouth, the action as natural as that of an old married couple.

Lin Qinghan's face flushed bright red instantly.

She was just about to complain when the red secure phone in the office suddenly rang without warning.

"Ring ring—!!!"

In the quiet of the night, the urgent ringing sounded particularly jarring, carrying a sense of urgency that made one's heart pound.

The tenderness in Shen Jinghong's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a sharpness like a blade.

He put down his chopsticks and grabbed the receiver.

"I am Shen Jinghong."

On the other end of the phone, Chen Weiguo's suppressed and urgent voice came through, with the crackling sound of electricity seemingly audible in the background.

"Chief! Something's happened!"

"Our radio monitoring team has just intercepted an unusual radio wave! The signal source is inside Beijing, on an extremely high frequency—a encrypted channel used exclusively by enemy agents!"

"Have you deciphered it yet?" Shen Jinghong's voice instantly turned cold.

"Part of it has been deciphered!"

Chen Weiguo paused, his tone filled with murderous intent:

"Code name 'Viper'. The message contains only one sentence: Target confirmed, location locked: China Bureau. Hunt target: that young scholar who just returned from abroad."