Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The capital's premier prison, with its high walls and electric fences, is eerily solemn.

Even the wind here smells musty.

"3527! Come out! Take your things!"

The small window on the iron gate was pulled open with a "whoosh," and the prison guard's emotionless voice came in.

Shen Yaozu, who was huddled in the corner of the dormitory and shivering, suddenly raised his head.

His once oily face was now emaciated, with high cheekbones and sunken eyes, making him look like a starving ghost who had just crawled out of a grave. Hearing the call, he shuddered and scrambled to the door, his cloudy eyes instantly flashing with the wild joy of a hungry wolf seeing meat.

"The government! Is it...is it my brother who's come to pick me up?"

"I knew it! I knew he wouldn't abandon me! I'm his own brother!"

Shen Yaozu was so excited that he was incoherent, his face covered in tears and snot. These past few days in the cell had been tortured to the point of wishing he were dead by the prison bully known as "Scarface." He didn't want to stay there for another second, even if it meant begging for food.

"Stop talking nonsense! Come out here!"

The iron gate opened.

Shen Yaozu practically tumbled and crawled out, greedily inhaling the slightly murky air in the corridor, as if it were the sweetest nectar in the world.

The formalities were not processed in the reception room, but in a small courtyard behind the gate.

There was a dark green military truck parked there, its canvas tarpaulin covering it completely, exuding a chilling aura.

A military officer, dressed in uniform but without collar insignia, stood beside the car, holding a folder in his hand, coldly scrutinizing him.

"You're Shen Yaozu?"

The cadre glanced at him from head to toe, his eyes looking at him as if he were a piece of livestock waiting to be slaughtered.

"Yes, yes, yes! I am Shen Yaozu! I am Shen Jinghong's younger brother!"

Shen Yaozu nodded vigorously, bending over like a shrimp, his face full of obsequiousness. "Sir, it was my brother who sent you to pick me up, wasn't it? I knew it! My brother's a high-ranking official now; with just a word from him, I can get out!"

"Hehe, your brother is indeed a high-ranking official."

The cadre gave a forced smile, pulled a piece of paper from his folder, and handed it to Shen Yaozu:

"Sign it."

"What is this?"

Shen Yaozu was taken aback and looked at it in the dim light.

The paper bore a striking line of large characters: **[Application for Enlistment in the Volunteer Support Special Transportation Brigade]**.

"Enlist... in the army?"

Shen Yaozu was dumbfounded, his head buzzing. "Sir, are you mistaken? I'm getting out of prison, not joining the army! How can I possibly be a soldier with this physique?"

"No mistake."

The official's smile vanished, and his tone turned icy cold:

"Given that although you committed a serious crime, your attitude in admitting your guilt is acceptable, the organization has decided to give you an opportunity to 'atone for your crimes through meritorious service.'"

"Your brother specifically asked for permission, saying that you are his younger brother, with high moral character and good health, and must be sent to the most difficult place to train."

He pointed to the truck, his voice carrying an undeniable air of authority:

"The fighting on the front lines is intense right now, and the logistical pressure is immense. This 'Special Transport Battalion' is a great place. If you perform well on the front lines, you can get a month's reduction in your sentence for each ammunition transport. If you transport a lot, you might even be recognized as a meritorious soldier and discharged with honors."

"The...front lines?"

Shen Yaozu's legs began to cramp, and his teeth chattered. "Is...is it going to North Korea?"

"What else? Shall we go for a walk in the park?"

The cadre waved his hand impatiently. "Sign it now! This is a blessing others would kill for! You know this is a battlefield; bullets don't discriminate. If you don't sign, you can go back to your cell and rot in jail!"

Back to the cell?

Shen Yaozu shuddered at the thought of Scarface's fist, which was as big as a sandbag.

But going to the battlefield...

I heard the American planes swarmed like locusts and the bombs rained down like rain. With his small frame, how could he possibly come back alive?

"I'm not going! I'm not going!"

Shen Yaozu suddenly broke down, collapsing to the ground and throwing a tantrum, yelling, "I want to see my brother! I want to see Shen Jinghong! He can't do this to me! I'm his own brother! He's sending me to my death!"

"Sending them to their deaths?"

The cadre sneered, squatted down, and patted Shen Yaozu's filthy face:

"Your brother said this is called 'labor reform.' Didn't you used to like stealing things? Didn't you like getting something for nothing? Now we're giving you a chance to earn a living through your own strength and atone for your sins through your own strength."

"You've had good luck; you're a hero, and we'll reward you with red ribbons and decorations."

"Bad luck..."

The officer stood up, straightened his uniform, and spoke in a detached tone, as if discussing the weather:

"That's what a martyr is. The state will give you a pension, and your parents will get a plaque of honor. Isn't that much better than being a labor camp inmate?"

"I won't be a martyr! I won't!"

Shen Yaozu howled like a pig being slaughtered, scrambled to his feet, and tried to run back, shouting, "I'm going back to my cell! I'd rather be beaten to death by Scarface than go to the front lines!"

"It's not up to you!"

The cadre's face darkened, and he abruptly waved his hand.

Two burly soldiers jumped out from behind the truck, and without saying a word, they grabbed Shen Yaozu and threw him into the truck bed like a chicken.

"Clang!"

Shen Yaozu fell heavily onto the hard wooden board. Before he could get up, he found that the truck bed was already packed with people.

These men were all bald, their eyes fierce yet filled with despair. There were thieves, thugs, and a few ruthless characters who looked like murderers.

This is what is known as a "special transport team".

To put it bluntly, they were suicide squads. They were specifically responsible for carrying explosives and shells by hand in the most heavily bombed and complex terrain areas.

"Behave yourself!"

A burly man with a face full of scars kicked Shen Yaozu in the stomach. He was the "squad leader" of the vehicle. "If you wail again, I'll send you to meet the King of Hell right now!"

"Waaaaah..."

Shen Yaozu clutched his stomach, huddled in a corner, and stared at the canvas at the rear of the car gradually closing up, the light in his eyes completely extinguished.

It’s over.

It's all over.

He never imagined that his older brother, whom he used to bully, could be so ruthless and so... terrifying once he hardened his heart.

This is not salvation.

This is a one-way ticket to hell.

"Boom!"

The truck started, belching out a plume of black smoke, and carried this load of "cannon fodder" destined to struggle in the gunfire towards the unknown north.

What awaits them is a frigid temperature of minus forty degrees Celsius, a rain of fire, and a battlefield littered with flying blood and flesh.

……

At the same time.

Outside the imposing iron gate of the Shenzhou Bureau.

A cold wind howled, swirling up the fallen leaves on the ground.

An old man wearing a tattered cotton-padded jacket, with gray hair and a face full of wrinkles, was kneeling on the cold cement ground.

He leaned on a cane, shivering from the cold, but stared intently into the doorway, his cloudy old eyes filled with pleading and despair.

Shen Dayong.

The once arrogant "head of the family" who treated his eldest son like a beast of burden in the courtyard has now fallen to this state.

The house is gone, the money is gone, and even the youngest son, whom they loved most, has been taken away.

He heard about it.

I heard from the neighbors that Yaozu was sent to join the army, and it was the most dangerous kind of army.

He panicked, completely panicked.

"Comrade! Please! Let me see Jinghong!"

Shen Dayong grabbed the gatekeeper's trouser leg, sobbing uncontrollably, "I'm his father! I'm his biological father! I urgently need his help! It's a matter of life and death!"

The gatekeeper was a young man, one of Chen Weiguo's trained soldiers. He looked down at the shameless old man, his eyes filled with nothing but deep disgust, devoid of any sympathy.

Who in the entire guard battalion doesn't know about the bureau chief's family affairs?

These vampire parents actually have the nerve to come and beg for mercy?

"Old comrade, please have some self-respect."

The soldier took a step back, shook off his hand, and said in a cold, hard voice, "This is a military restricted area. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed to approach. Director Shen is busy with national affairs and has no time to see you."

"I'm not leaving! I'm not leaving!"

Shen Dayong started acting like a rogue, banging his head against the wall repeatedly until blood quickly seeped from his forehead. "If he doesn't come out, I'll kneel here until I die! I want everyone to see how this great scientist drove his own father and brother to their deaths!"

He used this tactic of moral blackmail his whole life, and it never failed him.

Unfortunately, he forgot.

This isn't a traditional courtyard house; this is the China Central Television (CCTV) office.

Here, personal relationships are disregarded; only military law applies.

Just as Shen Dayong was about to throw a tantrum, the roar of an engine came from inside the gate.

A black Hongqi sedan slowly drove out.

Shen Dayong's eyes lit up as if he had seen a lifeline. Without caring about his own life, he lunged forward and spread his arms to block the front of the car.

"A stunning sight! A truly breathtaking sight!"

He screamed at the top of his lungs, "Save Yaozu! He's your own brother! You can't just watch him go to his death!"

"Creak—"

The car stopped.

The black car windows were tightly closed, like a pair of indifferent eyes, silently watching the disheveled old man in front of the car.

Shen Dayong lunged at the car window, frantically pounding on the glass, his old face pressed against it, twisted and ferocious.

"Eldest brother! It's all Dad's fault, no matter what! You can hit me, you can scold me, but you can't abandon Yaozu! He's the root of our Shen family!"

"You're a high-ranking official now. With just one word from you, you can transfer him back! Even if it's just to clean toilets, that's fine! Don't send him to the front lines!"

inside the car.

Shen Jinghong sat in the back seat, holding a battle report that had just been delivered from the front lines.

He listened to the heart-wrenching cries outside the window and looked at the face that had once terrified and suffocated him.

At this moment, his heart was as calm as a stagnant pool.

There was neither hatred nor pleasure.

There is only a kind of indifference, like watching strangers put on a show.

"Chief, should we pull him away?"

Chen Weiguo, sitting in the front row, turned around, his eyes flashing with murderous intent. "This old bastard is shameless. Should I have someone throw him far away?"

"Need not."

Shen Jinghong shook her head and put down the documents in her hand.

He reached out and pressed the button to raise or lower the car window.

"Buzz—"

The car window slowly rolled down a crack.

A cold wind blew in, revealing Shen Dayong's face, which was covered in snot and tears.

"Jinghong! You're willing to see me! You're willing to save Yaozu, aren't you?" Shen Dayong was overjoyed, thinking that his self-inflicted injury had worked.

Shen Jinghong didn't look at him, her gaze fixed straight ahead, her voice as cold as if it came from another world:

"Shen Dayong".

He didn't even call him "Dad," but addressed him by his first name.

Do you know what the situation is like on the front lines right now?

"What?" Shen Dayong was stunned.

"Every day, hundreds and thousands of young people fall in pools of blood to defend their country."

Shen Jinghong turned her head, her eyes devoid of any warmth, only endless depth:

"They are also born of parents, are the pillars of their families, and are the apple of their parents' eyes."

"If they can go, why can't your son?"

"But...but Yaozu can't endure that suffering! He'll die!" Shen Dayong cried out.

"Can't handle hardship?"

Shen Jinghong sneered, a cruel smile curving his lips:

"Then learn to eat it. As you eat, it won't be bitter anymore. If you really can't learn..."

He paused, his eyes sharpening like a knife, and said, enunciating each word clearly:

"Then just die there."

"This is probably the only decent thing he ever did in his life. He saved the country food and also did you some good karma."

"You...you..."

Shen Dayong was stunned, his mouth agape, unable to utter a word for a long time.

He couldn't believe that these were the words of his eldest son, who had always been obedient and timid.

This heart is harder than a steel plate!

"drive."

Shen Jinghong didn't look at him again and pressed the close window button.

The black glass slowly rose, completely blocking out that repulsive old face and also severing this long-rotten family bond.

"boom--"

The Hongqi car drove past the stunned Shen Dayong and sped away.

He was left alone, kneeling in the cold wind, watching the taillights of the departing car, like a lonely ghost abandoned by the whole world.

inside the car.

Shen Jinghong closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

ended.

The home that had brought him unrest for two lifetimes was finally completely severed from his life.

From now on, he has no worries.

Behind him was only the nation.

Before him lay only the battlefield.

"To the train station."

Shen Jinghong opened her eyes, the last trace of gloom in them vanished, replaced by a fighting spirit burning like a raging fire:

"The first special train carrying the Chinese People's Volunteer Army is about to depart."

"I'm going to see off those...true brothers."