After being separated from my family, I became a darling of the military region thanks to my medical

Old Zhao, the reporter, was a veteran journalist who had covered economics in his youth and knew his stuff. Ignoring Sun Mingyuan's expression, he went straight to the blackboard and craned his neck to examine it closely.

Upon seeing this, he felt a chill run down his spine, and almost dropped the pen he was holding.

This isn't just an account book; it's practically a meticulously crafted work of art!

The debit and credit sides are clearly displayed, and each expenditure's voucher number corresponds to a specific original document. There's even a small table in the lower right corner of the blackboard, showing the real-time exchange rate for national and local grain coupons to RMB, accurate to two decimal places.

"This..." Chen Yuanshan, the former president of Peking University, took off his thick-rimmed reading glasses, wiped them with the corner of his clothes, and put them back on. His voice trembled slightly. "This accounting... is even clearer than that of the old accountants in our school's finance department who have been doing it for thirty years!"

Sun Mingyuan's expression changed; his previous accusatory tone deflated like a punctured balloon. He walked over and casually opened an account book on the table. The handwriting was neat, without a single alteration, and each page bore the personal seal of the person who handled it.

"Having accounts alone is not enough."

Ye Zhen walked to the long table beside her and picked up a small booklet that had been mimeographed overnight and was simply bound. The cover was still warm and gave off a strong smell of ink. She handed the booklet to Sun Mingyuan, whose expression was complicated.

"I understand that the leaders are worried that the students are young and impetuous and might cause trouble. I'm worried about that too," Ye Zhen said calmly. "So, I put a 'bridle' on each of them."

On the cover of the booklet are four large characters handwritten in pen: "Work Guidelines".

"Work brief?" Sun Mingyuan frowned and turned to the first page.

The bold red text immediately catches the eye: "The Red Line of Integrity and Self-Discipline".

Article 1: Anyone who takes even a needle or thread without permission, regardless of the amount, will be immediately expelled from the team, reported to their school, and will never be rehired.

Each word was like a knife, exuding a chilling aura.

Sun Mingyuan's fingers paused slightly before continuing to flip through the pages.

"Standard Templates for Epidemiological Investigation Scripts", "Code of Conduct for Home Visits", "Standard Procedures for Emergency Response", "Tripartite Signature System for Financial Handover"...

This thin booklet breaks down all possible problems into steps that even a fool could understand.

"Knock three times before opening a door, show your ID before speaking, know how to fill out forms, how to report any abnormalities, and even how to respond to insults—I've written down standard answers for them all," Ye Zhen explained from the side. "Here, there's no need for individual heroism or anyone acting impulsively. What I need are perfectly coordinated cogs in the machine."

Sun Mingyuan became increasingly alarmed as he looked, his palms sweating profusely.

He had worked in government agencies for thirty years, witnessing countless instances of chaotic management in state-owned enterprises and government departments. Passing the buck, unclear procedures, and ambiguous responsibilities were the norm. But this little booklet before him was logically rigorous, like a code of governance!

And this was actually done by a young girl in her early twenties, leading a group of students who hadn't even left school?

This isn't just students fooling around; it's clearly a modern management model that's more advanced and scientific than many large state-owned factories today!

Sun Mingyuan raised his head and looked at Ye Zhen with a complicated expression.

Ye Zhen was tidying up the scattered receipts on the table, her expression focused, seemingly unaware that she had done anything particularly remarkable.

"Vice Minister Sun." Ye Zhen noticed his gaze, looked up, and a rare smile appeared on her lips, though it didn't reach her eyes. "The issues you worried about before you came are never moral issues for me, but rather technical ones. If the system is well-designed, even a bad person can become a good person; if the system is poorly designed, even a saint can become a thief. And technical issues are precisely the easiest to solve."

Her voice rose a few decibels, echoing in the empty warehouse, each word resounding: "What I want to do is not just a fundraising event, nor just saving a few children. I want to create a transparent, efficient, and replicable model for public welfare! If it can be done in Beijing today, it can be done in Shanghai tomorrow, in Guangzhou. As long as we follow this booklet, we can spread the seeds of charity throughout China, and no one can smear it!"

The warehouse was deathly silent.

Only a few students remained in the corner, still frantically clicking the abacus beads as they checked the accounts.

Even the most discerning reporter, Lao Zhao, silently closed his prepared notebook and turned to a new page. He uncapped his pen, took a deep breath, and solemnly wrote eight large characters on the paper:

A textbook example of management miracles.

Sun Mingyuan closed the "Work Guidelines" and let out a long sigh of relief. He had been holding this breath all the way, and now he could finally expel it all.

He looked at the slender young woman in front of him, dressed in old work clothes. All the open and hidden attacks aimed at her, all the dirty water in the gutter, were casually grasped by her and turned into the east wind that propelled her to great heights.

Every word in Wei Peng's whistleblower letter now seems like a joke.

"Great! What a wonderful 'Work Guidelines'!"

Sun Mingyuan slapped his thigh suddenly, the crisp sound breaking the silence. His face, which had been gloomy when he entered, was now filled with undisguised excitement. His eyes, usually so accustomed to official documents, were now shining. "I'm taking this booklet back! Back to the ministry for a meeting to discuss it! This isn't just a rule of 'Heart of China,' this should be the benchmark for social practice activities in universities across the country!"

The principals who had come with them exchanged smiles, their hearts finally settling down after the journey.

The former president of Peking University, Chen Yuanshan, puffed out his back proudly, raised his chin at Sun Mingyuan, and his protective instincts kicked in: "How about it? Old Sun, I told you my student was right! This Ye Zhen, it's just that she studied medicine. If she had applied to our Peking University Economics Department, I think she would have been a factory director!"

"Go away, stop patting yourselves on the back." The president of Peking University Medical School snatched the "Work Guidelines" and stuffed it into his pocket. "These are talents from our medical school, what does it have to do with your economics department? Ye Zhen, give me a copy of this booklet later. I want to print a hundred copies, no, five hundred! Those lazybones in our school's logistics department should all take this booklet and learn how to do their jobs properly!"

Ye Zhen watched the group of old men, whose combined age was several hundred, arguing over the booklet in the warehouse, and shook her head helplessly. She picked up the report on the table that had just been balanced and handed it to Sun Mingyuan.

"Vice Minister Sun, now that you're here, you have to sign this document."

Sun Mingyuan was taken aback, then took the report: "What word is that?"

"Witness." Ye Zhen pointed to the blank column. "The fact that so many leaders are conducting surprise inspections today proves that our accounts can withstand scrutiny. Your signature is a endorsement from the state. From now on, anyone who tries to tamper with the accounts will have to ask your pen for permission first."

Sun Mingyuan looked at the blank space and smiled. His smile even smoothed out the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

He took out his Parker gold pen, uncapped it, and signed his name heavily on the paper. The ink penetrated the paper, seeping into its texture.

"I signed it willingly!"