Li Jiyue couldn’t be bothered with the two Liao brothers and continued dismantling the safes inside her space. Bang bang bang!!! The deafening noise was like tearing a house apart. Gouzi (the birth-system steward) clung to the wall, trembling.
She used the same method as last time to crack open the small safe—electric drills, saws, and hammers all deployed at once. When the two safes were opened, the upper compartments were filled with gold bars. Nestled among them were two account books—one recording bribes received, the other bribes given. Corrupt officials liked to keep a real set of books as leverage, binding everyone onto the same rope: if one fell, no one on that rope could escape, forcing them to protect each other at all costs.
She flipped through them casually and found that most of the gifts had been sent to some “cousin aunt,” and for “Xiao Jian’s birthday.” Linking this to the brothers’ earlier conversation and what she knew from novels, she figured out they were sent to the Li family. Perfect timing—just when she needed a pillow, one was delivered. Another day, she’d pay a visit to the deputy director’s home. If he was an upright official serving the country and the people, she wouldn’t mind helping him rise further. If he was corrupt, she’d empty his house and redistribute the wealth.
She drank some bottled water to recover her strength and continued dismantling the large safe. Inside were seventy or eighty gold bars, tens of thousands of yuan in Da Tuanjie notes, a large box of stamps, grain coupons, industrial coupons, as well as jewelry and paintings—from the Song, Ming, and Qing dynasties. She was rich—filthy rich!
In two days, she dismantled three safes—one big and two small—each taking about two hours. The small ones were manageable; the big one was exhausting. Holding the drill for so long, even with her strength, her arms ached, her palms reddened. Thankfully, she had spirit spring water and gloves; otherwise, her hands would’ve blistered.
After putting away the valuables and cleaning up the debris, she collapsed onto the sofa, sipping spirit spring water.
“So tired… so tired, Gouzi. It’d be great if you could come help me.”
“Director, you’ve worked hard. Once the laboratory doors are opened, I’ll be able to go help you.”
“Gouzi, what do you think would happen if I used a drill to saw the door open?”
The system’s voice trembled in fright. “Master, please don’t! Illegally damaging system space violates the rules. The system would suffer severe damage—not only would the laboratory fail to open, even the mall might be lost. Please think carefully.”
Li Jiyue had used similar systems in her previous life and knew this rule; Gouzi wouldn’t dare lie to her.
“Look how scared you are. I was just saying it. Do I look like someone who’d mess around?”
She didn’t want to lose the space either. Wasn’t it just finding a man? Heh—she’d found one.
Li Jiyue stayed in the mall for two days, eating self-heating rice or hotpot to get by. The next day, she was heading out. She had arranged to meet Fu Chengyu at noon at the state-owned restaurant and planned to eat something good. Since there was still time, she decided to stroll around first.
After bathing with spirit spring water, she changed into a nice outfit: a white turn-down-collar chiffon blouse, ruffled sleeves, a black high-waisted A-line skirt, black leather shoes, and a simple braided hairstyle. By her standards from her previous life, this outfit was unbearably old-fashioned, but in this era it was considered very stylish. After all, one couldn’t go on a blind date wearing patched rags.
She wandered nearby along the lake. Before long, a Bauhinia flower avenue came into view—mostly pink blossoms with white ones interspersed, stunningly beautiful. It stretched as far as the eye could see, at least several kilometers. In her previous life, it would’ve been at least a 4A tourist attraction. She continued walking along the flower path.
There were quite a few people there, mostly young and fashionably dressed. This area seemed to be a military compound—mostly cadres or their children. The older generation had been to war, with impeccable backgrounds and no fear of inspections. A few young people were taking photos with cameras. When they saw her unfamiliar face approaching, they hurriedly hid their cameras inside their clothes. Li Jiyue pretended not to notice and kept walking.
As she walked, a familiar figure appeared not far ahead—it was Fu Chengyu. Cheng Yang was pushing him slowly; clearly, they were out enjoying the scenery too.
He spoke in a low voice, “Commander, don’t lose heart. They say it takes a hundred days to heal from broken bones and torn muscles. You’ve only been two months post-surgery. Even if you were made of iron, you wouldn’t recover that fast. Take it slow—you’ll definitely stand again.”
Over the past two days, Fu Chengyu had repeatedly stood up, holding onto railings and managing to walk a few steps. But being too anxious, desperate to walk on his own, he let go—only to find his legs had no strength at all, falling again and again. He’d stand up, fall down; fall down, stand up… over and over, sweating profusely, covered in injuries. Once, he even scraped off a large scab, his leg bleeding, yet he refused bandaging. Cheng Yang had to stop him from training.
Fu Chengyu stopped insisting, but he grew increasingly dispirited and depressed, radiating a heavy, oppressive aura.
Cheng Yang tentatively asked, “Commander, that day Comrade Li said she knows medicine and could help you stand again. Should we let her try?”
He had also heard that Professor Li and his wife were highly skilled doctors. If they were still in Yangcheng, perhaps they could’ve cured their commander—but they’d been sent to the far northwest. Li Jiyue was their daughter and knew medicine too. Trying was better than doing nothing. What if it really worked?
Their commander was the army’s ace officer—only twenty-eight and already a regiment commander by his own merit, with countless military achievements. For such a tough, iron-blooded man to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair was a loss to the army and to the nation—tragic and heartbreaking. The brothers in the regiment were all waiting for their commander to return and lead them in training.
“No need.”
The old military doctors and top medical authorities in the capital had all said it was incurable. He knew his own body—he couldn’t stand, his legs had no strength. He’d spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair, a useless man. What right did he have to marry and burden someone else? He was afraid of disappointing her. Today, he planned to make things clear—cut cleanly, better short pain than long suffering.
Cheng Yang sensed his low mood. He’d said everything he could and didn’t know how else to comfort him, scratching his head anxiously.
Suddenly, a female voice sounded beside them.
“Commander Fu, Comrade Cheng Yang.”
Cheng Yang turned and his eyes lit up. “Comrade Li? The commander was just talking about you. He plans to stroll here a bit before heading to the state-owned restaurant for your appointment.”
His instincts told him Comrade Li and the commander had a destined bond and could develop revolutionary friendship. So he deliberately said it was the commander who mentioned her, not that he had.
Fu Chengyu saw through him and shot him a cold look, his voice low and deep. “Talk too much.”
Cheng Yang awkwardly rubbed his nose. “…Yes, sir!”
Li Jiyue stepped in front of him and bent slightly at the waist, her eyes curving like crescent moons, smiling brightly.
“Commander Fu, what a coincidence~”
“It is,” Fu Chengyu nodded, his expression cool.
Li Jiyue sensed something off in his mood and looked toward Cheng Yang behind him with her eyes, asking, Did you upset him?
Cheng Yang shook his head desperately, like a rattled drum.
Not me, not me…