A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

"let me try!"

Everyone turned around in surprise, following the sound, and saw a slight commotion on the outskirts of the crowd, with several people walking quickly towards them.

The first person to be seen was a sprightly, imposing old man, who was the head of the delegation. Beside him was an elderly woman with meticulously combed silver hair, a kind face, and sharp eyes. The one speaking was a girl of about seven or eight years old with her hair in two buns, who was being led by the old woman's left hand.

"Captain!"

"Commander! You've finally arrived!"

Ignoring the little girl, everyone rushed to the old man who had returned from the Ma Family Garden.

The commander nodded slightly, his gaze sweeping over the upside-down national flag, the slender flagpole, and the various expressions on the faces of the foreigners around him, before finally settling on Mulan and the others. He said in a deep voice:

"Yes, things weren't going smoothly on the road. There were some technical issues at customs, and the checks were extremely thorough, which caused a long delay."

"Fortunately, the original plan was to split the troops into two groups, otherwise, humph! The foreign devils' underhanded tricks are endless."

As he spoke, the old man stepped forward from the crowd, surveying the gazes cast upon him, some open and some hidden, as if talking to himself, yet also as if addressing all his own people:

"This reminds me of a fable that they themselves, the Westerners, have passed down."

For want of a horseshoe, the horse was lost; for want of a horse, the rider was lost; for want of a rider, the battle was lost; for want of a battle, the kingdom was lost. Now, they want to use all sorts of petty tricks and obstacles, linking them one after another, to demoralize us before we even enter the battlefield, or even disqualify us from entering altogether. From incorrect flags to jammed pulleys, to unreasonable customs delays… it's all the same principle.”

"Comrades! The more this is the case, the more we must fight back!"

The old man's voice suddenly rose, carrying the heroic air of someone who had been through many battles.

"Comrades! The more this is the case, the more we must fight back!"

"We want to fight!"

"Let's fight a major war!"

"Win the battle!"

"Beat them until they're pissing their pants!"

"Yes!" the delegation responded in unison, their voices strong and clear, instantly drowning out the whispers around them.

The old general's words, like the resounding beat of war drums, echoed powerfully across the square in the early morning.

This declaration, filled with the smell of gunpowder and a resolute spirit, was clearly conveyed to the surrounding representatives through the translations of various countries.

Many people initially showed surprise, which quickly turned into undisguised laughter. A bearded representative chuckled softly to his companion, speaking rapidly in German, something to the effect of, "Has this old man gone mad? Shouting about fighting and killing here?"

Several people nearby shrugged in agreement, their faces filled with "shameless boasting" and "bluffing."

However, on the other side of the Bald Eagle delegation, the head representative, whose hair was meticulously combed, suddenly changed his expression after hearing the translator's hurried whispers. His previously nonchalant expression froze.

He abruptly pushed up his glasses, leaned forward, and stared intently at the proudly standing old man, as if trying to confirm something.

The next second, he involuntarily took two steps back and bumped into the attendant behind him.

“What...?”

"Mao's top general!"

Another advisor, seemingly more knowledgeable about East Asian military affairs, turned pale and hurriedly added, "Red China's top manager in Korea! The one who..."

"Hiss—" A suppressed gasp, like a broken bellows, rang out among the representatives from various countries who understood.

The representatives from various countries who had initially gathered around out of curiosity or mockery, whether they understood or not, were all taken aback by the sudden somber atmosphere and their colleagues' overreaction, and unanimously took a large step back.

In an instant, a clear circle appeared around the old general and the delegation.

Whispers hummed in the air, and more words spread rapidly among the shocked crowd:

"Tough!"

"Ruthless on the battlefield"

"The one who made MacArthur"

"My God, they sent HIM?"

Other representatives, especially those from countries seeking independent development or with geopolitical considerations, quickly shifted their initial surprise in their eyes to a light tinged with awe and fervent interest. They exchanged words in hushed tones:

“Pragmatic strategist…”

"Highly disciplined troops..."

“A formidable mind…”

“Good Lord!” A representative from the Lobster Nation adjusted his glasses, his tone complex. “They sent him? They are extremely serious about this conference.”

“A formidable enemy mander…” someone murmured, their gaze shifting to the IEC manager who had previously made things difficult for them, whose face was now hardening, and a hint of pity involuntarily crept in…

To provoke such a person and his team, who represent absolute will and ruthless tactics, is clearly to think of oneself as a cat...

Cats have nine lives, but I don't know how many...

A French representative reacted swiftly, immediately raising his hands and speaking clearly to his colleagues: "Mao's right-hand man in military affairs, cest vrai!"

“He is the responsible one,” he said, gesturing to the ashen-faced manager, “He is certainly not Français, I am just!”

Wow, as the saying goes, a person's reputation precedes them. The Gallic Rooster representative reacted quickly, immediately using his ancestral skills.

Raise both hands, and draw a clear line.

In the midst of the tense standoff and uncertainty caused by the revelation of the old general's identity, no one noticed that two small figures, taking advantage of the shift in the crowd's attention, nimbly slipped under the flagpole that had caused the trouble...

……

"Are you sure? This flagpole is much taller than our crooked tree!" Jiang Qiu hugged the flagpole and shook it, looking up at the smooth, thin pole and asking in a low voice.

"No!" Jiang Dong shook his head, answering crisply and honestly, but his eyes were like the clearest spring water, reflecting the top of the flagpole and the upside-down red flag.

"Or, you could climb?"

Jiang Qiu choked, looked at the flagpole, then at her younger sister's bright eyes, and suddenly puffed out her little chest. The timidity on her face was forcibly suppressed by a sense of responsibility as the older sister.

"Okay, I'll do it! I've been eating meat a lot lately, so I'm stronger! Plus, I'll give it a try with the tricks my brother taught me for climbing trees! Wait a minute, I'll go get the rope!"

After saying that, she turned around and, like a nimble little fish, slipped through the gap between the adults' legs and ran towards the stroller parked not far away.

Grandma's familiar blue cloth bundle was on top.

When Mulan saw the two little girls running to the flagpole, her heart tightened, and she immediately tried to squeeze through and pull them back.

However, at this moment the crowd was in an uproar because of the commander's declaration of "fighting" and his unexpectedly exposed identity.

Several representatives from friendly countries or organizations were visibly agitated, struggling to push their way through to shake hands and talk with the head of the delegation, shouting slogans bearing the hallmarks of their time in accented English or broken Chinese:

"Down with hegemonism!"

“Support the just struggle!”

“Long live the friendship between our peoples!”

The noise was deafening, mixed with discussions, exclamations, and questions in various languages.

The crowd surged forward, and Mulan was trapped in the center by the enthusiastic crowd, or those who just wanted to get a closer look at the "legendary figure," making it difficult for her to move an inch.

Mulan tried to squeeze out, but the surging crowd separated her from the direction of the flagpole, and she couldn't break free for a while.

She could only anxiously wave towards the flagpole and shout, "Dongdong! Come back! Don't move!"

But her voice was instantly swallowed up by a louder roar, and the two little girls obviously didn't hear her.