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

The grouping was done according to military regulations.

Gu Zheng took out a palm-sized notebook, opened the assignment table he had written beforehand, and read out a name, which corresponded to an engineer.

"First squad, weeding and clearing. Lin Yi is leading the team, cooperating with the first squad of the engineering corps."

Lin Yi responded and led the eighteen students to join the soldiers of Class One.

"Second squad, mix the mud and paint the walls. Zhang Wei will lead the team, cooperating with the second squad of the first platoon."

"Third Shift, repair doors and windows. Li Hong will lead the team, cooperating with the third shift of the first platoon."

As Li Hong walked toward the third squad, the engineering corps squad leader, Lao Hei, gave her a once-over.

Old Hei was a man from Northwest China, with a dark red face and hands as big as palm fans. He had worked in the engineering corps for eight years and had seen all kinds of work.

Old Hei looked at him suspiciously. "Have you ever repaired windows before?"

Li Hong shook her head: "I've never done it."

Old Black grinned: "So what can you do?"

"I can suture wounds and tie surgical knots."

Old Hei listened for a while without understanding, then turned to another soldier beside him: "What did she say?"

The soldier grinned: "Squad leader, she studied medicine and has stitched up people before."

Old Hei scratched the back of his head and muttered, "Can sewing a person be the same as nailing a window frame? Alright, alright, just watch and see, don't hurt yourself."

"Fourth shift, pull the main power line."

After the last group finished, Gu Zheng closed his notebook and gestured with his chin towards the courtyard.

"start."

The work in Class One is the hardest.

The withered grass, half a person tall, was tangled and its roots were stronger than steel bars; a shovel could only dig up a small patch.

Lin Yi was the first to pick up a shovel and shovel down with all his might, but the blade got stuck in the grass roots and he couldn't pull it out. The force of the rebound made him stagger.

The engineer Xiao Chen standing next to him couldn't stop twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"College student, your shovel grip is wrong. Lower your hand, bend your waist, and use your waist strength, not just your arm."

Lin Yi didn't say anything, adjusted his grip as he was told, and shoveled again. Sure enough, it was much smoother.

He shoveled more than twenty times, and his palms started to burn, with two large blisters forming on the base of his hands.

He shook his hand, didn't stop, and continued shoveling.

Xiao Chen glanced at him, said nothing more, and secretly felt a little more convinced.

There was a big commotion in Class Two.

Mixing mud is a skill; even a slight difference in the ratio of water to ash can result in drastically different outcomes.

Zhang Wei led a few boys, following Lao Hei's verbal instructions before he left, and began adding water to the ash heap.

The first bucket of water was poured in, and it became too thick to stir.

They added another half bucket, which made it too thin, turning it into a murky soup that flowed out of the ground.

"Stop, stop, stop! Don't let it fall!" Zhang Wei stamped his feet anxiously.

Old Hei returned after patrolling around, stood by the mud pit, and had a long face.

"What you're mixing is mud? I think it's porridge. If you stick this on the wall, it'll start crumbling when it dries. It's better not to use it at all."

Zhang Wei's face flushed red: "Squad leader, can you just tell me exactly how much water and ash to put in? Give me a precise number, okay?"

Old Hei stretched out his large, fan-like hand and gestured: "That's about right. There's no precise measurement for this stuff; it's all about feel."

Zhang Wei almost couldn't catch his breath.

A tall, thin boy wearing glasses raised his hand behind him: "Class monitor, could you give me a rough ratio? Like, how much water to mix with one bucket of ash?"

Old Hei thought for a long time: "Probably two shovels of ash and a scoop of water? Anyway, I've been doing this for eight years, and I never measure it. I can tell the consistency just by touching it."

The boy with glasses was named Zhou Ming. He squatted down, took out an enamel rice bowl from his schoolbag, scooped up a full bowl of ashes and poured it onto the open ground next to him. Then he used the same bowl to measure half a bowl of water and slowly mixed it into the ashes, stirring it with a shovel as he did so.

After stirring it a dozen times, he stopped, picked up a clump of mud with the spade, and flipped his wrist. The mud stuck on the spade without falling down, and the consistency was just right.

He tried it again, fine-tuned the amount of water, and noted it down in his palm.

"Mix two jars of ash with seven jars of water, and stir at least thirty times."

Zhou Ming stood up, adjusted his glasses, and gave Zhang Wei a number.

Zhang Wei mixed another bucket of mud according to the same proportion with some skepticism. When he picked it up with a shovel, he found that this time the mud was neither too thin nor too thick, and it didn't slip off the shovel. Its texture was surprisingly uniform.

Old Hei happened to turn around, glanced down at the bucket of mud, reached out and pinched a handful, then rubbed it.

He didn't say a word.

I rubbed it again.

He remained silent.

He looked up at Zhou Ming, paused for two seconds, and slowly raised a dark thumb.

"It's done."

Just those two words.

The windows repaired by Class 3 were slow, but extremely meticulous.

Li Hong led eight girls to clean up the broken glass and then use putty to fix the new glass in place.

Her work style revealed a stubbornness unique to doctors.

While others apply putty in clumps, she uses a scraper to scrape it layer by layer, ensuring even thickness and neat edges, leaving not a single bit of excess putty.

They were even more amazing when repairing window frames.

The hinges on one of the windows were loose, the wooden frame was wobbling, and the nails couldn't be held in place.

Old Hei tossed a wire over: "Tie it up, it'll have to do."

Li Hong did not answer.

She took a piece of medical gauze from her pocket, wrapped it around the joint between the hinge and the window frame a few times, tied it into a surgical knot, tightened it, wrapped it again, and tied it again.

After tying it up, I shook the window frame, but it didn't budge.

An engineering soldier walked over, tugged at it twice, and stared wide-eyed.

"This binding method is even stronger than wire, how did you do it?"

"Surgical knot tying, we practice it every day." Li Hong tore off the excess bandage and stuffed it back into her pocket. "I've been practicing for a year, I can do it with either my left or right hand."

The engineering soldier was stunned for a long time. He went back and muttered to Lao Hei, "Squad leader, these medical students' hands are not like ours, but their accuracy is really weird."

Lao Hei didn't respond, but at lunchtime, he quietly slipped a few of his compressed biscuits to Li Hong.

In the evening, the temperature dropped sharply, and the white breath we exhaled lingered in front of our eyes.

The students were exhausted and slumped over, sitting on a pile of bricks and panting heavily.

No one said they wanted to leave.

The rumbling sound of iron wheels rolling over the ground came from around the corner.

Two handcarts turned into the alley, and steam rose from aluminum barrels covered with cotton quilts, filling the air with the aroma of stewed pork with vermicelli.

Following behind was a small cart with two baskets of large white steamed buns, each as big as a fist, with a ring of cracks on top from steaming.

The woman pushing the cart was a plump lady from the main hospital cafeteria, wearing a white apron, her hands red with cold. She shouted at the top of her lungs, "Food's ready! Commander Gu said it's all-you-can-eat tonight, and we'll give you more if you're still hungry!"

The courtyard erupted in excitement.

More than seventy students mingled with thirty engineering soldiers. No one cared about appearances anymore. They sat on the newly cleared ground, shoveling enamel bowls into their mouths.

Engineer Xiao Chen scooped two pieces of meat from his bowl into Lin Yi's bowl: "Eat more, we have to work tomorrow."

With his mouth full of steamed buns, Lin Yi mumbled a thank you, spitting out a mouthful of flour crumbs.

In the middle of the courtyard, someone lit a fire, stuffing dry weeds into it. The flames leaped high, casting a red glow on the faces of those around them.

Beside the campfire, Lao Hei was holding an enamel mug, gulping down hot soup, when he suddenly shouted at Zhang Wei.

"Hey, you, the one playing with mud, yeah, I'm talking to you, the one with glasses."

Zhou Ming pushed up his glasses and looked up.

Old Hei tapped him with his chopsticks: "Your method works. Tomorrow, we'll make the same proportions on the second floor, and I'll join you."

Zhou Ming nodded, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Gu Zheng stood by the crowd with an enamel mug in his hand. He took a sip of soup, his gaze sweeping over the group of dusty young people before finally settling on Lin Yi, who was applying bandages to the blisters on his hands, and Li Hong, who was munching on a steamed bun, in the corner.

He walked over and stopped in front of the two of them.

Lin Yi and Li Hong tried to stand up at the same time, but he reached out and pressed them back down.

Gu Zheng squatted down. "Well done."

Li Hong almost dropped the steamed bun in her hand. Her nose stung with tears, and she quickly lowered her head and took a big bite to smother the feeling.

Lin Yi tightened his grip on the enamel bowl. He didn't speak, but nodded emphatically.

The firelight shone on everyone's faces, flickering and dancing.

Someone started singing, their voices hoarse and out of tune, but one after another they followed, their voices rising and falling in the night breeze.