Traveling back to 1977

Chapter 102 demonstrates that we are a...

the next day.

February 1st, Tuesday, 5 days until market day.

However, Chen Fan couldn't focus on going to the market yet; he had to finish writing the news article first.

I ran to the brigade headquarters at 6:50 a.m. and turned on the radio right on time.

Then, under Xiao Liewen's guidance, he practiced martial arts.

After completing the warm-up exercises, horse stance, and Five Elements Fist, it was already 9 o'clock.

Chen Fan practiced throughout the session, while Xiao Liewen watched. If Xiao Liewen hadn't kept his eyes open, Chen Fan would have thought he was asleep.

After performing two breathing exercises, Chen Fan slowly finished and asked Captain Xiao, "Captain Xiao, when will the dike-breaking begin?"

Xiao Liewen yawned and pointed to the embankment next to him, "It's already started."

It's just a small project. After clearly defining the responsibilities of each section and explaining the construction standards and key points, you can start working as soon as you have your tools. There's really nothing that needs to be prepared.

Chen Fan: "Ah, then I'll go take a look."

He said he was packing his things to leave.

Xiao Liewen laughed and said, "I know that. Are you going to do some field research?"

Chen Fan grinned and nodded, "Ah, right."

Calling it a field trip isn't wrong; seeing is believing, and only then will the writing have substance. Besides, he's never actually seen a dike being breached, so it's good for him to broaden his horizons.

After Xiao Liewen locked the door, he walked down the street with his hands behind his back. "When we were fighting on the front lines, some reporters came to interview us. To be honest, some soldiers looked down on those civilian cadres, thinking that the army was for fighting and why did they need civilian cadres?"

Chen Fan's eye twitched slightly. Was this "individual soldier" you yourself?
Xiao Liewen was so focused on talking that he didn't see his expression; otherwise, he would have insisted on clarifying the situation.

He continued, head down, "But later I realized that those civilian reporters were really great. They didn't have guns, so they took notebooks and pens to the battlefield and used their pens to record the battles and heroic deeds on the front lines. Many of the heroes and role models on the battlefield were written down by them."

At that time, the country was poor and couldn't afford many cameras. Some of them were good at drawing, so they drew scenes from the battlefield in their notebooks, allowing our people to learn firsthand footage of the battlefield..."

He didn't hear Chen Fan's voice, so he turned around to look, but didn't see anyone.

She paused for a moment, then turned around and saw Chen Fan standing on the stairs in a daze. She couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong with you?"

Chen Fan snapped out of his daze, quickly took a few steps forward, and asked, "You just said that the reporters were drawing sketches on the front lines? And they were published in the newspapers?"

Xiao Liewen looked at him, puzzled. "What is sketching?"

Chen Fan raised his hand and gestured, "It's about using a pencil to draw the outlines of people and objects."

Painting on the battlefield, you certainly can't set up an easel to paint oil paintings, nor can you set up a table to paint traditional Chinese paintings, so you'd definitely be drawing sketches in a notebook. "Oh, so this is what sketching is."

Xiao Liewen nodded, "Yes, yes, they were drawing sketches. A reporter came to our company to do some research and even drew some of our soldiers. They were so lifelike, almost like taking a photograph."

Chen Fan rolled his eyes twice and chuckled, "That's really impressive."

They then dropped the topic and continued walking.

Xiao Liewen couldn't stop talking and started talking about war correspondents again. "The reporters back then were amazing. They could write and fight. Take Yan Wu for example. Everyone called him the 'Martial Reporter.' How did he get that title?"
On one occasion, he went to the front line with his troops. The commander on the battlefield was killed, and the enemy was rushing towards our army. What should we do? A soldier saw that he was carrying binoculars and assumed that he was the commander. He asked him for the battle order.

As luck would have it, Yan Wu had been with this unit from the very beginning, listening to the entire process of the commander receiving orders, analyzing the enemy situation, and issuing missions. He knew that the purpose of this operation was to repel the enemy and open the path to victory, so he decisively ordered a full-scale counterattack, which ultimately led to victory.

From then on, he was known as the "Military Reporter," and he set records for "participating in the most battles, writing the most battlefield news, and organizing the most campaign-level reports on the front lines."

Xiao Liewen recounted the exemplary deeds of war correspondents, and Chen Fan listened attentively, while simultaneously multitasking.

Since war correspondents can draw sketches, can't I also use sketches instead of photographs?
It's not impossible.

As a student majoring in mechatronics, he is also good at drawing beautiful blueprints.

Although this painting is very different from that one, it doesn't matter, he can practice.

There just happens to be a book called "Art Basics" in the library, which contains introductory content on sketching. If I just flip through the contents and gain some experience points, wouldn't that help me improve my sketching skills?

This is God’s will!
The two walked slowly to the embankment. One said he felt relieved and happy, while the other understood and was also happy.

Standing on the embankment, a bustling scene unfolded not far away.

Xiao Liewen pointed to a small hillside where they were digging and said with a smile, "That hillside has an uneven terrain. It can't be used to build houses, or grow rice or cotton. It used to be Lu the landlord's firewood hill. If people wanted to go up the hill to cut firewood, they had to pay him one cent for every 100 jin of wet firewood."

He paused for a moment, a hint of melancholy flashing in his eyes. "Actually, it's not that expensive. I heard from my comrades in Shanghai that back then, a 60-jin load of wet firewood would sell for 4 jiao. In some places in North China and Shaanxi, vegetation is scarce. Not to mention before liberation when there were landlords, even just over ten years ago, a jin of firewood cost 3 fen. People would pick up any grass they saw and wish they could take it home. Now, I don't know how much it costs."

Compared to those places, even though we have more vegetation here, it's still quite reasonable for landlord Lu to only charge 1 cents for 100 catties of wet firewood.

Chen Fan blinked, wanting to say, "Captain, are you going off-topic?"
Xiao Liewen turned to look at him, thinking that he wouldn't dare to respond to what he had said, so he waved his hand and laughed, "It's okay to say these things now. If it were a year ago, I wouldn't have dared to say them either."

Seeing that he was going off on a tangent, Chen Fan had no choice but to steer the conversation back on track, "So, this time, the earthwork for the dike breach is being carried out from there?"

Xiao Liewen nodded. "Farmland is fundamental. We should leave it as is if we can avoid it. Nowadays, people mainly rely on rice straw and cotton stalks for firewood. If that's not enough, there are also miscellaneous trees on the riverbank and in front of and behind the houses. That's enough for firewood. Let's just dig up this mountain of firewood. When we level this mountain, we can get more than ten acres of good farmland."

Digging up the mountain to extract soil and then turning it into fertile farmland—it's truly killing two birds with one stone, no wonder Captain Xiao looked quite smug.

Chen Fan thought for a moment, then took out his notebook and began to take notes.

"The wood-burning mountains belonging to landlords, where poor farmers used to have to pay for firewood, are now being used to repair the dike. The same mountain, different uses, reflects that we are a nation..."

Xiao Liewen watched him write, his gaze gradually becoming vacant, and he couldn't help but sigh inwardly, "What a good choice to find a messenger!"
(End of this chapter)