Eagle Sauce: The 055 destroyer was launched into the sea just after the founding of the country?

A few days later.

Dragon-Bear Border.

The frigid Siberian wind, carrying fine snow particles, whistled through the outposts on the border between Longguo and Maoxixi.

Vasily and Petrov patrolled along the border wire fence on the soft snow, their breath turning into white mist in the moonlight.

In the distance, the patrol lights on the Longguo side were like vigilant eyes, quietly sweeping across this uninhabited area.

"Uncle Vasily," Petrov lowered his voice, carefully scanning the surroundings to ensure that no one could overhear their conversation, "is the news from Moscow true? Did Comrade Joseph really order an attack on Dragon Country?"

Vasily's pace paused slightly.

He pulled his frayed military cap to cover his forehead, which was wrinkled by wind and frost, and nodded heavily.

A trace of fatigue flashed in those eyes that had experienced countless battles.

"It's true. The Far Eastern Military District has entered the highest state of combat readiness. Marshal Markov personally issued the order."

His voice was low, as if he didn't want to let this fact drift away with the wind.

Petrov bit his lip, his young face looking particularly childish in the moonlight.

He was only in his early twenties and had graduated from the Moscow Military Academy less than half a year ago. The Far Eastern border was his first garrison location.

"Uncle, do we have to fight this battle?"

Petrov kicked the snow under his feet, his voice filled with anxiety.

“Even if we fight, can we really win?”

Vasily did not answer immediately.

As the captain of this patrol team, he has been stationed on the border for fifteen years and has witnessed the gradual rise of Longguo from a devastated post-war country.

Especially in recent years, the military strength demonstrated by the Dragon Country across the border is terrifying - advanced fighter jets, mysterious electronic equipment, and even astronauts have been sent into space.

"I don't know, little Peter."

Vasily finally answered honestly.

“Politicians don’t think like soldiers on the front. They sit in the Kremlin and look at maps and play chess, while we…we see real people.”

Petrov's gaze turned to the Longguo outpost not far away opposite, where there was a faint light.

He suddenly whispered, "Actually, I don't want to fight this battle."

"You know, last winter, I met a Dragon Country soldier from the opposite side, his name was Wang Ming."

"We met by chance while on patrol, in no man's land. It was so cold that we actually exchanged food - I gave him vodka and he gave me something called 'dumplings'."

The young man's voice softened.

"We met a few more times later, patrolling together at night. He taught me a few words of Longguo, and I taught him Russian. We also agreed to visit each other after we retired."

Petrov tightened his collar, as if to resist the uneasiness in his heart.

"I really don't want to fight with my friends, Uncle Vasily."

Vasily's face darkened in the moonlight, and his wrinkles appeared deeper.

The white mist he exhaled dissipated into the night, as fleeting as the promises about to be broken.

"Who isn't, little Peter?"

Vasily slowed down his pace, as if he couldn't bear to get any closer to the border that signified separation and hostility.

His eyes traveled through time and space, returning to the past years of blood and fire.

"Back when we were fighting against fascism, I fought alongside the Dragon Nation soldiers. That was over a decade ago, and together we took down those damned Kwantung Army in Northeast China."

He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one for himself and one for Petrov. The orange-red flames flickered in the night, like the flames of war in his memories.

"I was only a few years older than you at the time, and was sent to assist the Dragon Nation Army as a platoon leader in the 88th Infantry Division of the Red Army."

"You have no idea what Dragon Country was like back then... Forget the stealth fighters and all the high-tech weapons they have now. Back then, they couldn't even make a rifle."

"I will always remember those Dragon Kingdom warriors. They were poorly equipped, sometimes even had broken boots, but their fighting spirit was awe-inspiring."

Vasily took a deep breath of cigarette and exhaled slowly.

"There was a Dragon Country company commander named Zhang Changlin. During a surprise attack on the Sakura Army's position, he was shot three times while trying to cover my retreat."

"Finally, I carried him out of the encirclement and he was rescued in the field hospital."

He turned his head and stared at Petrov. "I will never forget the experience of fighting side by side with him. I know exactly what kind of warriors the Dragon people are."

"They are the most steadfast fighters of the Red Front. You say they betrayed the Red Front? This is simply a joke!"

The two walked in silence, with only the crunching sound of the snow echoing their thoughts.

In the distance, the howling of wolves pierced the quiet night sky, like some ominous omen.

"To put it bluntly, Comrade Joseph may have really given the wrong order this time,"

Vasily finally broke the silence, his voice so low it was almost drowned by the wind.

"I don't understand why the guns are pointed at my former comrades."

"I don't understand politics, but I do know that those Dragon Nation warriors are just like us, ordinary people with families and dreams who just want to live a peaceful life."

Petrov looked up at the starry sky, confusion and worry flashing in his eyes.

"Uncle Vasily, what should we do if war really breaks out?"

Vasily took a deep breath, and the burden on his shoulders seemed to become heavier.

His eyes swept across the lights on the distant side of Longguo, where perhaps ordinary soldiers like Wang Ming were performing their duties.

"We are soldiers, little Peter. We swear allegiance to our country and obey orders."

He spoke slowly and heavily, each word seemed to be squeezed out from the depths of his soul.

“But I hope… I sincerely hope that war won’t break out. If Marshal Markov and the others could see what we’ve seen here, perhaps they’d change their minds.”

He patted Petrov's shoulder gently. "Come on, we have to complete the patrol. No matter what happens, remember that it is more important to maintain your humanity than to follow orders. Never forget this."

The figures of the two stretched into long shadows in the moonlight, blending into the darkness of the border.

The wind and snow remain, the border remains, but everything will change.

Two countries and countless ordinary soldiers like Vasily and Petrov are about to be caught in the vortex of history and face the most difficult choice: to be loyal to orders or to be loyal to their inner morality?