I was married off to a disabled hero in lieu of marriage; my in-laws doted on me and I aspired to gr

Meng Pingping led the guards into the ward, covered Pu Lao's body with the bright red national flag, and then the soldiers transferred it to the ice coffin and sent it to the funeral home.

Pu Weijie gripped the coffin lid tightly as it was about to be closed, desperately calling out, "Dad, Dad..."

A dignified major general, now merely his father's son, felt a heart-wrenching pain at the thought of his father lying cold in the ice coffin.

"Pull him away!"

Meng Pingping instructed the guards around her, and soon Pu Weijie was pulled away, the ice coffin was closed, and the old man was carried away by the guards.

Two days later, Pu Lao's farewell ceremony was held at the funeral home. Pu Weijie and Zhou Zhonghai first took Lan Jialin home to rest, as she was extremely weak due to grief.

It's still that two-story building, but that familiar smiling face is no longer there.

In the living room, the nanny went to the kitchen to make noodles for Lan Jialin, who hadn't eaten anything for a whole day and night.

"Where is the child?" Zhou Zhonghai asked.

"The child and his mother arrived today. I didn't expect the father to arrive so soon..." Pu Weijie said, choking back tears.

Have you contacted your hometown yet?

"I've made contact. The county magistrate of Baisha County will arrange everything there. We're just waiting for Dad's ashes."

"What about the cemetery?"

"My father had already asked my second uncle to build a grave for him and my mother."

"He arranged everything, afraid of troubling the organization in the slightest. Weijie, let me go to the funeral home with you. Sister Lan, please rest at home and take good care of yourself."

After a brief conversation, Zhou Zhonghai and Pu Weijie went to the funeral home.

Everything proceeded smoothly, and the people who came to offer their condolences were all high-ranking officials from the capital. The two men dared not be negligent in the slightest.

After offering their condolences, groups of two or three people would gather in the rest area to drink tea, where people of various ranks who were not usually seen would make an appearance.

Funerals have become marketplaces for achieving fame and success.

The funeral team was very well organized; all of Pu Lao's funeral arrangements were handled by the organization. Zhou Zhonghai was in a daze, constantly busy, but he didn't know what he was busy with.

In the lounge, Zhou Zhonghai lit a cigarette, and Meng Pingping came over.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, it's alright."

"I was talking about you with Professor Pu just a few days ago."

Zhou Zhonghai's body jolted, as if he had woken up from a dream.

"A few days ago?"

"Yes, I didn't expect it to happen in just a few days. At that time, he could eat and drink but had a slight fever. When we told him to go to the hospital, he said he was fine, just a minor cold."

Meng Pingping held a cigarette in her hand, fiddling with it back and forth, but didn't light it.

"A hero of unyielding spirit on the battlefield, a mere cold took his life. If Sister Lan had been by his side, he wouldn't have passed away so quickly," Zhou Zhonghai murmured.

"The cold was just a trigger; Professor Pu had too many underlying conditions, and the pneumonia accelerated the failure of multiple organs."

"What did he say to you?"

"When we talked about Huailin's reforms, he had great confidence in you and asked me to promise that he would definitely support you in the future."

Zhou Zhonghai chuckled sullenly: "He's always protective of his own, you don't need to take it to heart. As for work matters, if you don't do something well, you should still handle it the same way you should."

With Mr. Pu gone, who can truly protect me like he did?

"Is a commercial market being planned in Huailin?"

"Yes."

Are you experiencing any funding difficulties?

"The businesses are very supportive of the government's decision, and the funds have been almost raised."

If Zhou Zhonghai asked for money, Meng Pingping might help him out, but she would question his abilities.

If it were Elder Pu who asked this question, Zhou Zhonghai would have exaggeratedly complained about being poor, and then changed the subject to say how hard he had worked to raise the money. Elder Pu would have laughed heartily and praised him highly.

But Meng Pingping was not Master Pu, and Zhou Zhonghai had no desire to seek praise.

His old superior lies in an ice coffin and will never praise him again.

Meng Pingping licked his lips. He knew that Zhou Zhonghai did not trust him, and that he could not replace Elder Pu's position.

"Take care of yourself. It's a long journey to send Mr. Pu's ashes back to his hometown. Don't collapse before he does."

"Thank you, I'm fine."

With a simple "Thank you," Zhou Zhonghai exuded official jargon, showing he had become more composed and tactful.

The reason he has always been so reckless is because someone is backing him up.

When a child makes a mistake, the elders will clean up his mess. But Zhou Zhonghai has no elders.

Qiaoqiao and Zhou Wenhui learned from the radio that Commander Pu had passed away, and the two were very worried about Zhou Zhonghai.

Qiaoqiao had only met Commander Pu twice, but she regarded him as her respected leader.

Zhou Wenhui had been afraid of Commander Pu since childhood and rarely saw him. He felt more regret than anything else about Commander Pu's sudden death.

But he knew what Commander Pu meant to his father.

His father was both a teacher and a friend to him; they were comrades-in-arms on the battlefield, inseparable friends in life, and family members with whom he could confide.

Commander Pu is gone, taking my father's soul with him.

Qiaoqiao arrived at school listlessly, and before class even started, He Yuan called her and Xiaoqi to his office.

On the office desk, there were several bottles of kimchi.

"Teacher He, you like to eat this too? If you like it, you don't need to buy it. I'll bring it to you." Qiaoqiao said, pointing to several bottles of kimchi on the table.

"Yang Qiao, Gao Xiaoqi, be serious." He Yuan slammed his hand on the table.

Qiaoqiao and Xiaoqi stood with their heads down, wondering what mistake they had made.

"School is a place for learning, not a place for doing business. You two are doing something else, not only running your own business in your class, but also expanding it to the whole school. If this were a few years ago, you would be considered capitalists and would be expelled."

He Yuan pointed out their problems seriously.

"No, Teacher He, we're just earning a little living expenses, how are we capitalists?"

Xiaoqi didn't dare to speak, but Qiaoqiao defended herself.

"Earn a little living expenses? Doesn't the government give you living expenses? Look at you all, look at the state you've become! The whole school smells like kimchi. Someone has already reported it to the principal's office, and the principal wants me to crack down on it."

"Who is this? So heartless! A bottle of kimchi costs 15 cents, enough to last a week. We are helping impoverished students."

Qiaoqiao was getting anxious. Xiaoqi's business had just started to improve, so who was so envious?

"Am I supposed to tell you who the whistleblower is, and then you retaliate against them privately?"

"Teacher, am I that kind of person?"

"How many times have you retaliated against others in private? I'm warning you, if you continue selling kimchi, the school will expel you. You can go home and keep selling kimchi." He Yuan said righteously.

"No, teacher, isn't there a solution?" Qiaoqiao argued, while Xiaoqi was already crying.

There are still more than ten jars of pickled vegetables at home, but we can't sell them; they've all gone bad.

After selling kimchi for over a month and earning more than 100 yuan, the family's life had just improved. Suddenly, their livelihood was cut off. How could Xiaoqi not cry?

"If no one reports it, the school turns a blind eye. But if someone reports it, you can no longer sell it, and the teachers can't do anything about it."

Seeing that Xiao Qi was crying so hard, He Yuan softened his tone.

"The national economy is undergoing transformation, and Huailin City also supports individual businesses. It's so unethical to report someone for buying a few bottles of kimchi."

Qiaoqiao was furious. Xiaoqi's family's finances had only improved thanks to kimchi. What could they do now?

"School is a place for studying. Only when you've completed your studies can you do many more things. Don't ruin your future for a few bottles of kimchi; it's not worth it. Alright, that's all I have to say. Go back to your classrooms now."

He Yuan sighed. What could she do?

She was just following her superior's instructions.

Xiaoqi made kimchi, and she ate it. This big bottle cost 15 cents, and many teachers bought it.

The students are poor, and the teachers aren't much better off. Pickled vegetables can save a lot of money on meals, which is a pity.