Munitions Empire

On the spacious street, a People's-brand small car slowly drove by. The horsepower of this car wasn't much, so it couldn't give the feeling of speeding like the wind.

It was a low-cost small car developed by the Great Tang Group for the common people. Apart from being a metal shelter to keep out the wind and rain, it was essentially a four-wheel motorcycle.

Small horsepower gasoline engine, small wheels, small cabin, everything was designed to emphasize affordability. The driver of this car couldn't be particularly burly, otherwise, they might accidentally pull off the car door.

The small car leisurely drove to the entrance of a garage beside a residential area. At the entrance of this underground parking, there was an elderly security guard, who, upon seeing the car, didn't panic. He leisurely flipped open his little notebook, checked the license plate, then pressed the button to raise the roadblock.

"Thanks, old man." The middle-aged man smiled and greeted as he passed the barrier, vigorously cranking up his car window.

No choice, it's cheap, so the car windows were, of course, manual. Anyway, it's not much trouble; cranking a few times with your hand and the glass would go up.

The old man waved his hand, and after the car descended into the underground garage, he lowered the barrier again and returned to fiddling with his radio.

Don't underestimate the radio in his hand. In this era, radios that could use batteries weren't cheap outside the Great Tang Empire.

Under the dim light overhead, the middle-aged driver carefully parked his car in his designated parking space. Here was a parking lot in Tongcheng City of the Great Tang Empire, transformed from an underground civil defense project. The walls still had a series of emergency instructions preserved on them.

Not far from the middle-aged man's parking spot was a huge iron door that could be closed at any time, filled with thick cement, capable of withstanding direct attacks from large bombs.

After parking his car, the man climbed out, walked to the back seat to retrieve a cake box, and carefully placed it on the hood of an old People's car nearby before turning back to lock his car securely.

To him, or rather to his whole family, this car was an expensive luxury. If it weren't for the fact that his job really required it and the government provided significant discounts, he wouldn't even consider buying such a thing.

However, as society progressed and time went by, it seemed many families in Tongcheng had acquired their own small cars.

Even the most oblivious people realized their lives were rapidly improving, and everything around them was starting to change.

In the past, they thought being able to eat a packet of instant noodles was a gift from His Majesty The Emperor. Now, what everyone talked about most was the price of pork, how chicken and eggs were getting cheaper, and their children's education matters.

For the workers who had strived in Tongcheng for ten years, they didn't need to worry about housing. That's something only outsiders and immigrants would care about.

They had their own factories, and there were national laws stipulating that these factories must provide pensions, and the factories were obligated to offer corresponding welfare.

Housing was part of that welfare: for ten years now, the houses they lived in were unbelievably good!

This is absolutely not exaggerated but a legitimate description. These workers never thought they could one day live in two-bedroom apartments, enjoying spacious and bright living conditions.

Before becoming citizens of the Great Tang Empire, they were exploited by landlords, bullied by foremen, and didn't dare to dream of such things. But now... they had everything.

Moreover, they held more than they ever dreamed of.

After repeatedly confirming his car was securely locked, the middle-aged man turned back to pick up the cake placed on another car's hood and carried a wrinkled briefcase as he headed toward the stairs.

In the distance, another car drove into the parking lot, with the sound of the engine and the slightly jarring brake noise gradually fading away.

This underground parking lot didn't directly connect to the middle-aged man's resident building, as the civil defense engineering was separate from the later constructed residential area.

Returning to ground level, passing through a small garden, the middle-aged man walked toward his home. Around the flowerbeds in the garden sat a group of elderly women chatting about the gossip of others.

Children, having just finished school, climbed up and down the iron railings surrounding the garden, chasing and roughhousing with each other, shouting moves like "Soul-breaking Knife" and "Mountain-splitting Palm."

The radio broadcasts of storytelling were the best entertainment for common folk. In the evenings, both children and adults had to listen to the storytelling, which included everything from just officials making judgments, chivalrous heroes saving the world, to detective stories... Over time, the children naturally developed their own ways and tactics of playing.

In their eyes, those iron railings were city walls, those flowerbeds were trenches, and they were the heroes scaling walls, competing to be the leader or commander.

The people living in this community are mostly employees of the second steel plant in Tongcheng. Everyone is familiar with each other, and greeting one another with a nod and then going about their business is the norm.

Along the way, he greeted a few acquaintances and walked to the entrance of the unit, avoiding the pile of bicycles parked at the door before the middle-aged man climbed up the stairs.

The already narrow staircase was filled with junk on every landing, with a legless cabinet here and a large water jar weighed down with a stone there.

Everyone's life had just become prosperous, but the habit of keeping things hadn't changed. Since everyone did it, there was no discussion about public etiquette or lack thereof.

On the second-floor landing was Grandma Liu's chicken coop, leaving only a narrow passage for people. Inside, a dozen chickens clucked, wiping away any modern feel from the building.

The corner of the third floor was piled high with cabbages, covered with a torn cloth. This was the Li Family elder's winter food supply; there used to be more in November, but more than half had already been eaten now.

There's no choice; back in the day when fleeing famines, they had been scared of hunger. Now they placed food at their doorstep just for peace of mind. Don't just blame these old folks; every household in the building, without exception, has a hundred or so pounds of rice and flour stored in the kitchen.

Nowadays, life is better. If you were to take a chicken from the corridor or pick a cabbage, those old neighbors might not even ask you for money, but they couldn't shake these habits, unable to forget the days of adversity.

They cherish the present life simply and worry that such days might suddenly shatter. Therefore, they instinctively hoard everything that can be stored, and day after day devour the old provisions, foolishly smiling with happiness as they watch the food piled like mountains about to spoil.

Maybe in another twenty or thirty years... when these people are gone, their habits will go with them, and gradually vanish.

But don't laugh at them, because they truly went through those times when they couldn't afford meals. They stubbornly greet each other by asking if they have eaten, believing that to hear the reply they had eaten was the most sincere blessing.

Indeed, for these people, having eaten is the best thing. Though their descendants no longer find satisfaction in having enough to eat, though their descendants increasingly disdain those empty cans tied with old newspapers and cardboard boxes piled in the corners at home.

On the iron door of the fourth floor, there's a couplet; traditionally, this didn't exist, but with His Majesty The Emperor instituting the Spring Festival celebrations, the Great Tang Empire officially added a mandatory holiday.

On this day, the whole country jubilates, celebrating that they no longer have to endure hunger, that their days are improving, and that their future is full of hope.

During this festival, people will showcase their year's harvest as much as possible. People will make a kind of food called dumplings, using various fillings, praying for a bountiful harvest; they will eat fish at family feasts to symbolize surplus every year...

Today, families with a little more money will stick auspicious phrases of prayers on both sides of their door, neatly written and full of festive charm.

The Great Tang Empire's celebrations appear extravagant to other countries; paper was once a luxury exclusive to the nobility, but now the commoners of the Great Tang Empire paste paper on their doors!

Every household eats fish? What a joke? They can't even fill their stomachs, yet must pick a day to eat fish? Sea fishermen might find it easy to eat fish, but do they know how much a fish costs inland?

The man took out his keys, turned the lock of his door, pulled open the thick iron door, and changed into slippers on the mat at the entrance.

He placed his briefcase on the ground beside him and handed the cake he bought to his wife, who came to greet him: "For Xiaowen."

"Buying nonsense again! Isn't making some ribs for her birthday enough? Spending on such an expensive thing," his wife scolded playfully, turning back to take the cake to the dining table.

A family like theirs could very well afford cake; it's just that the habit of saving sneaks into every detail, simple yet stubborn.

The daughter, who was doing her homework, saw the cake meant for her, and with a cheer closed her workbook. Her good grades filled the small family with hope for the future.

The Great Tang Empire never discriminated against women, many departments had female chiefs. Some cities even had female mayors, therefore girls could also attend school, be nurtured, and find plenty of work in society.

"Have you finished your homework? Quit shouting!" the mother chided, but it was apparently to no effect. She served the cooked pork ribs onto a plate in the kitchen, then threw the washed vegetables into the pot to stir them up.

The man affectionately patted his daughter's head, interrupting her as she opened the cake box: "Go wash your hands!"

"Thank you, Dad!" The daughter playfully stuck out her tongue, beautiful and graceful.

"Happy Birthday." Watching his daughter's back, the man felt like he had found something called happiness.