Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

After arriving at the military area of ​​our East China Field Army, Zhao Ping'an finally managed to sort out his thoughts.

His loyalty to his brothers is beyond question.

But Zhao Ping'an's heart sank even further.

Even the uneducated farmers around him could see the "abnormality."

What about those insightful leaders who have weathered countless storms?

What about those experts and scholars who are well-versed in both Chinese and Western knowledge, who have just returned from abroad, and who are very familiar with the forefront of world science and technology?

Can the penicillin production process, sophisticated equipment, outdated teaching materials, and single-person walkie-talkies that they themselves produced really be fooled by the excuse of "patriotic businessman" and "special channels" forever?

Instead of waiting for others to expose it, it's better to take the initiative yourself.

More importantly, Zhao Ping'an felt that the burden on his shoulders was getting heavier and heavier.

With the liberation of the whole country imminent and everything in need of rebuilding, he had a long list of "goods" stored in his system.

—From machine tools to fertilizer equipment, from generator sets to the blueprints for the first-generation computer, from grain seeds to military and aerospace industries,

—Each of them could come in handy at a crucial moment.

To continue with such petty squabbles and cover-ups is irresponsible towards this newly born nation.

He needs the full support and cooperation of the organization, more efficient collaboration, and the integration of his "unconventional capabilities" into the "regular plan" for national rejuvenation.

The price is exposing one's biggest secret, and the risk is dealing with unpredictable situations.

But he was willing to take the gamble.

He was betting on the vision and wisdom of the collective he chose and fought for.

Having made up his mind, Zhao Ping'an straightened his faded military uniform and strode toward Xu Yuanshan's small house.

My steps were heavy at first, but became more and more determined as I walked.

Knock on the wooden door.

"Come in," Xu Yuanshan's voice came, tinged with weariness, but very clear.

Zhao Pingan pushed open the door and entered. The room was simply furnished with a table, a chair, and a bed. On the table were documents and maps. Under the oil lamp, Xu Yuanshan was holding a report, his brows slightly furrowed.

Seeing Zhao Ping'an, he was somewhat surprised, then smiled and said, "Comrade Ping'an? It's so late, is there something you need?"

"Old Xu, there's something I want to report to you." Zhao Ping'an closed the door, his voice steady, but Xu Yuanshan keenly noticed that he used the word "report," and his expression was different from his usual calm and decisiveness, instead carrying a rare, almost solemn solemnity.

Xu Yuanshan put down the report and pointed to the chair opposite the table: "Sit down and talk. What happened?"

Zhao Ping'an did not sit down immediately. He stood at the edge of the oil lamp's light, his shadow stretched out and cast on the earthen wall.

He was silent for a few seconds, as if he was organizing his thoughts or making his final mental preparations.

Then, he raised his head, looked directly at Xu Yuanshan, and asked a seemingly nonsensical question:

"Political Commissar, have you... or the organization, noticed anything... about me that's not quite right?"

The question left his mouth, and the room fell silent instantly. Only the occasional soft crackling of the oil lamp wick popping could be heard.

Xu Yuanshan's smile gradually faded.

He didn't answer immediately, but looked at Zhao Ping'an quietly. His eyes, which had seen through many hardships, looked particularly deep under the lamplight, as if they could see into people's hearts.

He stared at Zhao Ping'an for a good ten seconds, long enough for Zhao Ping'an to almost hear his own heart pounding.

Then, Xu Yuanshan sighed softly. There was no surprise or questioning in his sigh; instead, there was a sense of relief.

Old Xu stood up, walked to the window, his back to Zhao Ping'an, and gazed at the impenetrable darkness outside. He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, but every word struck Zhao Ping'an's heart clearly:

"Comrade Ping An, your question... comes too late."

Zhao Ping'an was startled.

Xu Yuanshan turned around, his face showing understanding, gentleness, and even a hint of apology.

"It's not just me; the comrades in the Northeast Field Army, the leaders of the North China Bureau, and even... the central leaders have already taken notice."

He walked back to the table and lightly tapped the report on it with his finger:

"You think your claims about being a 'patriotic businessman' and using 'special channels' are foolproof? Yes, you've been very careful, and you've thought of everything from the source of the supplies to the handover methods. But, Comrade Ping An..."

Xu Yuanshan paused, his tone becoming even more complex: "What you brought out is too good, too good... beyond what this era should be like."

"Penicillin is extremely pure, and its production process is so advanced that even the most advanced pharmaceutical companies in the United States may not be able to fully achieve it."

Those diesel generators and walkie-talkies were ingeniously designed and had stable performance, far exceeding any similar products we can access now;

And those teaching materials you gave me…”

He picked up the book "Junior High School Physics (Volume 1)" on the table and stroked the cover: "The completeness and advancement of this knowledge system is astounding. We consulted several scholars who had just returned from Europe and America, and they were all amazed. They said that some of the concepts and expressions in it, although they had been envisioned and theoretically developed long ago, are still at the forefront of research and verification in top university laboratories in the West."

Xu Yuanshan put down his book and looked back at Zhao Ping'an's face, where there was inquiry, but more so, frankness: "Not to mention, you always manage to get the most urgently needed things at the most opportune time. The quantity and timing are unbelievably precise."

Once or twice could be a coincidence, but what about three or four times? Peace, we are all materialists, but we also respect the facts.

Zhao Ping'an's throat felt dry; he hadn't expected the organization to observe so meticulously and analyze so thoroughly.

He opened his mouth, wanting to explain something, but found that any explanation seemed pale in the face of such clear logic.

Xu Yuanshan waved his hand, indicating that he didn't need to speak, and continued speaking himself, his tone becoming extremely solemn:

"Regarding your 'special' status, there have been more than one meeting held above, with top leaders participating in the discussion."

There were debates and doubts. But ultimately, everyone reached a consensus.

He stared into Zhao Ping'an's eyes, speaking each word with unwavering resolve:

"Regardless of what secrets Comrade Zhao Ping'an may have, or where his abilities come from, as long as he is devoted to the country and the people, and genuinely works for the revolution,..."

Save our soldiers, help our people, strengthen our forces.

"Then he is our good comrade, a valuable asset and talent that we must protect and support!"

"The leaders have given clear instructions: Do not ask questions, do not investigate further, and most importantly, do not spread this information. Your safety is the top priority."

What we need to do is cooperate with you, help you, and provide cover for you, so that you can more confidently and effectively utilize your abilities to make greater contributions to the soon-to-be-new China!

These words, like a warm torrent, instantly broke down the last dam of self-protection in Zhao Ping'an's heart.

He had anticipated many possible reactions: wariness, suspicion, cautious acceptance, conditional use...

But what I never expected was such unconditional trust and such magnanimous protection.

Zhao Ping'an's nose suddenly stung, and his eyes uncontrollably burned.

Since the transmigration, all the pressure, loneliness, and confusion of bearing secrets alone, speaking cautiously, and walking on thin ice seem to have found an outlet at this moment.

He straightened his back and saluted Xu Yuanshan, and also as if to the leaders he had never met but who had placed great trust in him, with the most standard military salute. His voice was slightly choked with emotion, but it was incredibly clear and powerful:

"Political Commissar! I, Zhao Ping'an... will live up to the trust of the organization! I will live up to the expectations of the people!"

Xu Yuanshan stepped forward, grasped his hand firmly—his palm was warm and strong—and said something profound: “Comrade Ping An, welcome home.”