The next morning, in the small meeting room of the logistics division.
Political Commissar Wang sat solemnly at the head of the table, his face as dark as the bottom of a pot. In front of him, side by side, were two brand-new small iron stoves. The staff of the logistics division sat on both sides, each sitting upright, barely daring to breathe.
Mr. Li sat in the most conspicuous position, the sweat in his palms soaking a patch of his pants, his eyelids twitching wildly, constantly feeling like something big was about to happen.
"Light it."
Political Commissar Wang's voice was devoid of any warmth, and as soon as he spoke, the orderly stepped forward, striking two matches and extending them simultaneously to the two stoves.
In the left stove, there were poor quality coal lumps distributed by the logistics division. In the right stove, there were honeycomb coal briquettes handmade by Lin Wan Yi.
As the flame licked the coal, an astonishing scene unfolded.
