Roan truly wanted to make money too much. The doctor said Sofia’s vision could be restored with surgery, but only if Roan had a massive sum of cash.

  Before this, Roan left early and returned late, secretly growing vegetables on the mountain. With over a dozen plots, he faced the risk of being reported for "following the capitalist path." On top of that, he barely earned anything in a year.

  Jam and chestnut cakes were different. They were profitable and the risk was low. More importantly, wild fruits were everywhere on the mountain.

  In the deeper parts of the mountains, Roan also knew where to find wild fruits. In his mind, he had a map of the mountain area.

  Gritting his teeth, Roan vowed to master jam-making on his own.

  He analyzed his failures. The burnt smell was from too much heat. The lack of thickness was from too much water. The sour taste was from too little sugar.

  “Brother, are you really going to use the whole bag of sugar?” Marco watched his brother lift the bag, feeling the sting of the cost.

  If it weren't for Sofia’s eyes, Marco wouldn't waste so much sugar. Sugar was his favorite thing—white or red, he didn't care. As long as it was sweet, he would drool.

  As long as it was sweet, he would drool. Watching his brother pour spoon after spoon, Marco’s saliva was almost running dry. He felt like crying without tears.

  That bag represented a month’s living expenses for the three of them.

  “If I don't put it in, what else can I do?”

  Even though Roan said this, he only poured one spoonful at a time. Only a fool would dump it all at once.

  Marco’s arms were aching from stirring. The fire was too low. They had been cooking since morning, yet the jam wouldn't thicken into a stringy state.

  At lunchtime, Marco found that his hands really couldn't stir anymore. When he picked up his utensils, his hands were shaking.

  After lunch, Roan took over the stirring. He also stirred for three or four hours. Then, his arms could no longer be lifted.

  The two brothers lay on the straw mat, staring at each other.

  Sofia stopped braiding straw ropes. “Big brother, let me stir.”

  She fumbled to find the pot, but Roan stopped her. “No need. We're just talking; it’s really not that tiring.”

  “Really?” Sofia was skeptical. She sat back down reluctantly.

  Roan lightly kicked Marco.

  Marco caught on immediately. “Oh, right! Yeah, it’s not tiring at all. My arms don't ache. I’m getting back to work now.”

  As he stood up from the mat, Marco remembered something serious. “Brother, I remember now. Before Sister Elena made the jam, she soaked the berries in ash water...”

  “You idiot! Why didn't you say so earlier!” Roan was so angry he wanted to hit him. But seeing Marco’s pathetic expression, he held back.

  He had been beaten too much by his father as a child. He knew better than to hit kids recklessly. Otherwise, they’d hold a grudge for twenty years—just like him.

  The last time he saw his father on the battlefield, he hadn't even looked at him. Thinking about it now, he felt a twinge of regret. Why hold a grudge against his own father?

  Thinking of his father, Roan realized his memories were fading. He looked in the mirror. The more he looked, the more he saw his father’s facial structure in his reflection.

  Marco lay on the straw mat. He stared blankly at his brother in front of the mirror. He thought: "Is this guy in love? People say those in love look in mirrors. Is it Sister Elena? No... Sister Lucy is kinder. She is also stronger."

  ……

  Elena and Lucy were spreading dried cow dung in the fields.

  Elena had done this countless times in her past life. She knew wet dung was disgusting. But once it dried and hardened, it was fine. Cows eat grass; dung is just digested grass clumps.

  Sienna didn't see it that way. Every time she touched the dried dung, she wanted to gag. She even saw dung beetles crawling in the piles. They say these black beetles grow up eating dung.

  “Ugh...”

  Sienna began to retch. Juana was watching her like a hawk.

  “Listen, Sienna. If you don't want to work, fine. You won't die from skipping meals for a few days. If you want to eat, work properly. Stop acting like dung is so filthy. Don't you poop? Isn't your belly full of it?”

  Sienna turned beet-red from the scolding.

  That poisonous womant. She wished she could tear Juana to pieces.

  To get back at her, she thought of Juana’s son, Matthew. Where had he been? She needed to give Matthew some "sweetness" so he would deal with his mother.

  ……

  Antonio set a new rule: no one was allowed in his office. Even with the door open, entry was forbidden.

  Four guards, two aides, a colonel, a driver, and the secretary, Mimi, huddled together, whispering.

  “Mimi, you’ve lost your charm,” a guard teased.

  Mimi glared at him, wanting to stab him with her pen. She bit her lip and went back to marking documents. The guard was too big and crude; she didn't want to mess with him.

  “Nonsense!“

  The Colonel stood up for her.

  He was the office director and had recruited Mimi himself. He wanted her to keep the Commander's interest so his own position stayed secure.

  “With Mimi’s curves and face... she’s perfect. I was so dazzled by her that I recruited her from the female unit.”

  After saying this, the Colonel, who was in his thirties, actually went so far as to swallow his saliva.His eyes stared brazenly at Mimi’s figure.

  Mimi didn't hold back either. She swung the folder and smashed it right against the Colonel's head.

  Bang!

  The Colonel didn't dodge. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, looking satisfied.

  “Ugh. Like boss, like subordinate,” Mimi grumbled.

  Another guard analyzed: “Maybe the boss likes men. Mimi, what happened last time you used your backside to lean back into Antonio's arms?”

  He mimicked her movement.

  “You want to eat my pen?” Just as Mimi was about to attack, they turned to the driver. “Tom... tell us. You’re always following the boss. Does he really like men? Like, has he had any dates with guys?”

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  Tom just glared at them and continued eating his bread.

  Their talk was loud enough for Antonio to hear through the wall. Bunch of brats, he thought, though his hands stayed busy.

  He was listing every important person in the camp. He categorized them: Red for Bernardo’s camp, Yellow for the undecided, Blue for those who clearly disliked Bernardo. Antonio marked his own name in Red.

  There were twelve guards at the main gate. Two per shift, every eight hours. Six others were on standby or rest. Antonio never cared about them before, but now he saw six were marked in Red.

  They had to be replaced. But he didn't have the power. He had to convince Bernardo.

  Besides the guards, three people in Intelligence were Red. Luckily, Ricardo’s picks were more numerous: 3 Yellow, 6 Blue.

  The officers were the real challenge. Half of the 3 divisions, 9 brigades, and 27 battalions were Bernardo’s men. People like Antonio, promoted directly from above, were the minority. It would be a tough nut to crack.

  The good news was that while Antonio was only a deputy division commander, the lead commander had been arrested for corruption. Antonio was now the man in charge of his division.

  Wait. Would the commander's corruption case lead to Bernardo? Could he have taken the fall for the old man?

  Antonio found a new breakthrough. “Mimi, get me everything on the former commander. All of it!”

  Mimi thought she was "in the doghouse," but seeing her boss speak, she moved faster than a printer. Soon, she stood outside his door with a stack of files.

  Before finishing work, Antonio went to the canteen early again.

  “Commander Bernardo!” He saluted with perfect discipline.

  Bernardo looked up in disbelief. Antonio had never come to find him two days in a row. Bernardo shifted his weight, making room for Antonio on his right.

  He didn't actually expect Antonio to sit there. But Antonio did exactly that. Breath was close; body heat was within reach.

  Bernardo’s face was beyond shocked. He looked like a concubine ignored for decades suddenly summoned to the inner palace—a mix of terror and joy.

  His mouth moved, but no words came out.

  As soon as Antonio sat, he popped back up like a spring. He was just testing the effect of this move. He walked toward the cook, Lito, smiling to himself.

  Silly old man. Is it that big of a deal? Isn't it normal for brothers in the camp to sit close?

  Lito was frozen, feet nailed to the floor. Rumors that Bernardo liked Antonio were everywhere. Some said Antonio was promoted because of it; others said they lived together.

  Lito didn't believe it before, but now he was halfway there. However, he didn't believe they lived together. If they did, the old man wouldn't be this excited just because Antonio sat down for a second.

  This is just like how I felt the first time I got to hold my girlfriend's hand, Lito thought.

  Antonio didn't know why Lito was staring. “What are you dazing for? I want fried peanuts, fried river shrimp, fried eggs with chicken, and some distilled liquor.”

  “Oh, oh!” Lito dropped the menu. He turned around to get to work. He couldn't understand why the Commander wanted to drink today.

  Antonio had a slight alcohol allergy. He was fine with a little. But if he drank too much, his whole body would turn bright red.

  Lito had long ago memorized every detail about the officers. Especially for a big shot like Antonio, who was being promoted so fast.

  Bernardo sat there, looking at Antonio’s back. His face was once again filled with shock. The food on his utensils hadn't been put into his mouth for a long time.

  Wine. Antonio actually offered to drink with me for the first time. What is he thinking? What is Antonio thinking?

  When Antonio turned back, he sat across from Bernardo, acting as if nothing was wrong. “Commander Bernardo! The auction ended the day before yesterday. It successfully closed at 60,000 dollars.”

  “I know,” Bernardo’s voice became unusually gentle.

  “But I feel I shouldn't get those benefits. I mean the shares. I don't know why, but Sebastian insisted on pushing 10% of the shares onto me. I didn't even have a chance to know the details, let alone oppose it… But I think I should change these shares to your name for free… After all, you were the one who suggested buying the minerals…” Antonio pretended to be a bit confused, babbling nonsensically.

  “What’s the big deal?” Bernardo acted very calm. “I didn't say that if the minerals belonged to me, you couldn't have a stake. Besides, I didn't say that winning the bid means the minerals belong to me… I just said, help me win the bid… meaning complete this auction mission.”

  Bernardo is quibbling!

  Antonio knew what was going on. When the wine was brought over, he personally poured two glasses. He handed one respectfully to Bernardo.

  He drained the other glass first to show his respect.

  “Commander Bernardo! You sent me to handle the auction to test my ability. I know that in my heart. You are being good to me.”

  Bernardo glanced at Antonio. He only drank his wine and didn't state his position.

  Antonio continued: “But I feel that with my small contribution, I really don't deserve such a large amount of shares. If you insist on not taking them, Commander, I will donate them to the State-Owned Assets Bureau tomorrow.”

  Bernardo’s eyes widened. He didn't know why Antonio had become so "transparent."

  Bernardo personally poured wine for Antonio. His tone became even more fatherly.

  No, it should be called tender.

  “Silly child, what nonsense are you saying? This world is a mess. Only what you can hold in your hand belongs to you. We can't predict when the other side will attack. You should hold onto what you have now. For example, our gathering right now…”

  Hearing this, Antonio almost died laughing in his heart.

  Is this old man advising me to take the assets, or is he trying to flirt with me?

  You old fool, you won't get a thing. Just you wait!