A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

In early July, the sea breeze in Dalian carries a unique salty and cool sensation, sweeping across every inch of the naval base on Tiger Beach.

In stark contrast to the sweltering summer heat of Beijing, the wind here is open and humid, carrying the unique scent of the Bohai Bay. It blows the thick leaves of the tall poplar trees in the base courtyard, making them rustle like countless small green flags fluttering in the sunlight.

The sky was a deep, clear blue, washed clean by the sea, with a few wisps of thin clouds hanging lazily. The sunlight shone down without obstruction, gilding the Soviet-style beige office buildings, the neat barracks, and the faint outlines of ships on the distant dock with a dazzling golden edge.

The sounds of training commands, the faint whistles of ships, and the ceaseless crashing of the waves intertwine to create the unique background music of this coastal fortress.

In a quiet two-story building at the base, Jiangxia sat by the window.

This is the newly renovated workroom and residence that Staff Officer Xie helped him set up. The window faces a small courtyard with several crabapple trees, their blooming season over, but their branches and leaves are lush and green. The window is open, and the white gauze curtains are gently billowing in the sea breeze, bringing a cool breeze and dispelling the distinctive smell of ink and paper from the drawings and books inside.

A stack of papers, fresh from the printer, lay spread out on the table. This was the result of Jiang Xia's "extravagant" effort: due to the base's limited communication bandwidth, in order not to interfere with normal command and communication, he printed out the full text of the latest "special report" on the IEC meeting from the internal forum.

Although it was called a report, it was actually a diary entry written by a "pen-wielding" comrade who accompanied the group, using his boundless passion and literary talent to record his observations and feelings along the way.

Formal documents cannot be written like this, but this vivid and lively record was considered valuable, so it was placed on an internal forum with higher privileges for "reference" only.

Jiang Xia stared intently at the document, his finger unconsciously tapping on a certain line of text, his brows slightly furrowed.

The "battle report" in his hand, sent from faraway Europe, reminded him that the fighting had never stopped, only that the battlefield had changed and the form had changed.

"Take a break! Try this fruit!"

Old Wang walked in, carrying several bright red fruits in his pocket.

"Apples? Where did these apples come from in early July? Isn't Guoguang apples supposed to be harvested around the time of Frost's Descent?"

Jiang Xia looked at the few apples with some curiosity. Unlike later generations, when fruits were available year-round, fruits nowadays were all about seasonality.

"Hong Kui! This was brought in by the Russians, it's different from the one brought in by the Japanese. Try it!" Old Wang carefully picked up a fruit and handed it to Jiang Xia.

Jiang Xia took it; it was slightly cool to the touch, and the peel was smooth. Without hesitation, he took a bite. The flesh was slightly sandy, but the juice was exceptionally plentiful, bursting in his mouth instantly. However, the sourness was also quite pronounced, causing him to squint.

What was even more unexpected was that after taking a sip, a little bit of juice spilled from the corner of his mouth and splashed right onto his chest.

"Hey! There's so much water!"

Jiang Xia looked down at the obvious wet stain on the front of her white shirt, feeling somewhat annoyed. She hurriedly stood up and went to find a towel.

You should know that the clothes he was wearing were the new clothes from the package sent by the naval bigwig.

His old shirt was ruined by his vigorous rubbing last night—the entire back of the shirt was striped, officially retired, and became a new rag on his desk. The still-intact collar was removed and stuffed into his satchel…

"Hahaha!" Upon seeing this, Old Wang burst into laughter without any restraint.

"Speaking of which," Old Wang finished rambling on about the fruit in his hand, tossed away the smooth pit, and smacked his lips.

"This thing, according to the old farm workers, was introduced from our big brother in the north a few years ago, supposedly because it's cold-resistant and high-yielding. But what happened? It seems like they didn't really like it there. A couple of years ago... well, during our tough times, we tried to offset some of the debts with agricultural products, but they specifically wanted Guoguang apples, the Red Kui variety, but they didn't even look at them!"

"Is it not sweet enough?" Jiang Xia carefully wiped away the juice, thankfully the color wasn't too dark, so it should be able to be cleaned up.

New clothes are always something to be cherished.

"It's fine if they don't want it, then our own people can eat it. If the yield is really high, that would be a good thing."

"Hey, brother, you're oversimplifying things." Old Wang shook his head, put the apple back in his hand, his smile faded, and a hint of regret appeared on his face. "This Red Kui apple has a big problem. It can't leave Shanhaiguan. It can basically only be a 'local specialty' in our Northeast region."

"Why?" Jiang Xia stopped what she was doing, somewhat curious. In this day and age, anything that could increase the food supply was precious.

"It's not good for storage and transportation!"

Old Wang sighed, "Thin skin, tender flesh, and lots of juice. But once picked, it starts to rot in just a few days. You didn't see it, but during those difficult years, our people here felt sorry for our compatriots in the interior, so they tightened their belts and saved a lot of these fruits, filling several large Liberation trucks to send them in. But when the trucks arrived, the person in charge lifted the tarpaulin curtain, and good heavens..."

He shook his head, as if he could still see the scene: "There were no whole fruits left in the carriage. After the bumpy ride, most of them had turned into fruit pulp and pulp, and the juice had flowed all over the carriage."

The driver and his comrades escorting the truck turned pale, swearing they hadn't stolen a single bite. Hey, with a truckload of fruit, who could possibly eat it all?

The main problem is that the fruit is too mealy; it can't withstand a bump or pressure and crumbles into pieces. It's a pity that the people's efforts were wasted, and it's also a waste of good produce.

Jiang Xia listened, his brows furrowing slightly. Waste is always heartbreaking, especially in this era of scarcity. He looked at the half-eaten, slightly "simple" red jujube on the table, and recalled Old Wang's description of "a cartload of fruit puree," and a thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

"It's so easily damaged, it's indeed inconvenient for long-distance transportation. However..." Jiang Xia pondered:

"What if...we don't ship fresh fruit directly? Have you considered processing it? For example, making it into canned goods? Or into jam or dried fruit?"

"Canned food?" Old Wang was taken aback, then waved his hand. "That stuff is high-end, and the production line is very expensive. We don't have the conditions for that here."

Jam, dried fruit... I've heard people on farms mention it, but I've never actually made it myself. I don't have the skills or the equipment. Besides, this fruit is sour; would anyone even eat the jam made from it?

“There are ways to eat sour foods, and you can add sugar to adjust the taste. The key is that if it can be processed, it can be preserved for longer, transported to farther places, reduce losses, and may even create value,” Jiang Xia said thoughtfully.

Having experienced an era of great abundance and possessing some mechanical knowledge, Jiang Xia suddenly thought of making canned goods again.

Thinking of the canned yellow peaches that were later hailed as a fever remedy, Jiang Xia's actions in cleaning up the stains were a little slower.

With semi-automatic production lines for traditional Chinese medicine already available, setting up a cannery shouldn't be too difficult, right?

There's potential!

Just as Jiang Xia began to consider the possibility of building a cannery, Lao Wang's attention was drawn to the pile of papers on the table.

"Is this what you waited all night to print out? It's not a blueprint?"

Old Wang glanced at it a few times and found the text on it quite amusing.

"Hey, can I take a look at this thing?"

"If you can understand it, feel free to do as you please..."

Jiang Xia waved his hand, saying that it wasn't anything too secretive, but understanding it required a certain level of knowledge.

"Hey! You little brat, who do you think you are?" Old Wang was displeased and glared at him. "I studied at the Nanjing Military Academy, after all! A few words can't stump me!"

As he spoke, he actually pulled up a chair and sat down at the table, picked up the stack of papers, and assumed a serious reading posture.

After reading just the first few lines, Old Wang raised his eyebrows. Contrary to Jiang Xia's expectations, he didn't frown and give up. Instead, he read it aloud in a low voice, with a peculiar tone:

"In the summer of the year Guimao, I traveled with a delegation to Europe to attend the grand IEC event. This was the first time our newly established republic had entered the gates of this technological hall of fame with such high standards. My heart was filled with both anticipation and trepidation, as well as a sincere desire to bring glory to our country. I was deeply moved by what I saw and heard along the way, so I have written it down for your consideration..."

Jiang Xia straightened his clothes, expecting to see Lao Wang unable to continue reading and exclaiming, "This is so tedious!" But to his surprise, the guy was actually reading with his head swaying, seemingly quite engrossed.

“No, Brother Wang,” Jiang Xia couldn’t help but ask in surprise, “Don’t you find this kind of semi-classical style awkward to read? I have a hard time reading it.”

Old Wang looked up from the pages and chuckled, "It's a bit difficult to pronounce, but it feels familiar! There's a book with a similar writing style that I quite enjoy reading."

"Oh? What book is so captivating?" Jiang Xia asked curiously.

"The First Extraordinary Book!"

"Wow! Impressive! Is this Zhang Zhupo's version?"

"I have both, but I still prefer the Chongzhen edition, the one with the embroidered illustration! It's awesome!"

Well, that's just one of those hobbies men have...