Chapter 1294 The Will of the People

At 1:37 a.m., in Xishui District, at the former West Campus of Yezhou University, the Central State War Zone headquarters building.

As the heart and core building of the new regime, it was still brightly lit even though it was late at night.

Inside the theater commander's office, thick bulletproof glass blocked out the night's chill and the distant desolation.

Gu Chengyuan was slumped in a recliner by the window. The dark gray Zhongshan suit he wore to the party had long been taken off and the top button of his shirt collar was undone, revealing his unconcealable fatigue.

His eyes were closed, his brows were slightly furrowed, and his fingers were unconsciously tapping lightly on the armrest.

His physical enhancements were sufficient to support the limits of his flesh and blood, but today's grand ceremony, which combined performance, competition, and emotional release, brought a deeper, more spiritual weariness. Every burst of fireworks seemed to leave a burning imprint on his mind.

Tuk-tuk-tuk——

The knocking was restrained yet clear, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool in the silence.

"Come in." Gu Chengyuan didn't open his eyes, his voice slightly hoarse.

The door was pushed open silently, and Senior Colonel Zhou Guihong, the head of the Secretariat, walked in.

He was dressed in a crisp military uniform, his hair was cut very short, his face was thin, and a pair of simple glasses sat on his nose. Although his eyes behind the lenses were bloodshot from staying up all night, his gaze was still clear.

He held a thin folder in his hand, his steps were steady, but a lingering weariness shrouded his brow.

"Commander," Zhou Guihong stopped about two steps away from the recliner, her voice steady:

"All guests from various war zones have safely returned to the Xishui Guesthouse to rest, are in stable condition, and have given positive feedback."

"The post-event logistics work has been basically completed without any major oversights, and all procedures of the victory celebration have been successfully concluded."

"Hmm." Gu Chengyuan slowly opened his eyes, his gaze seemingly piercing through the ceiling, before focusing after a two-second pause.

"Thank you for your hard work, Gui Hong. Your secretariat and logistics staff did a great job on this mission."

"It's my duty." Zhou Guihong nodded slightly, then proactively moved on to the next task:

"According to the pre-arranged plan, all representatives from non-directly affiliated gathering areas, grassroots meritorious individuals, and ordinary survivors, totaling more than 15,300 people, have completed identity verification and guidance, and have successfully moved into the 'Lintian' and 'Shengxiang' buildings that Guanshan District had prepared in advance."

"The centrally allocated supplies have arrived, ensuring each person has an independent bed, basic toiletries, and a fixed amount of food. The living environment is roughly equivalent to the standard of a budget hotel before the apocalypse."

Upon hearing this, Gu Chengyuan sat up straight and said seriously:

"This aspect of the work is of paramount importance and cannot be taken lightly."

"Those who can come here are the backbone and eyes and ears of their respective places. Making them truly feel respected and valued is a matter of popular support and a political task."

"Understood, sir," Zhou Guihong replied immediately, while simultaneously opening the folder...

"We have increased the number of internal security and service personnel to ensure safety and meet needs. In addition, this is a draft notification prepared according to your instructions."

He handed over the document: "The core content is that if the delegates are not in a hurry to return, they can use the stub to visit the designated safe area of ​​the night market for three days."

“We provide maps, guided tours, and limited transportation connections, covering areas including cleared commercial model sections, some open workshops of Factory 001, newly established farms, and war history museums.”

Gu Chengyuan quickly glanced at the list, a satisfied look on his face: "Okay. Add one more thing: we will continue to cover their food and lodging during their visit. Don't be stingy with these supplies. What they see and feel firsthand after they return is more powerful than any propaganda. This is living propaganda."

“Yes.” Zhou Guihong noted down the key points: “Once the draft is finalized, it can be disseminated through the bulletin boards and broadcasting systems of each accommodation point tomorrow morning.”

"Go ahead and get it done. You should also take a break. The follow-up collection and analysis of public opinion needs to be started immediately." Gu Chengyuan waved his hand.

"Yes, sir. Please get some rest as well." Zhou Guihong saluted crisply, turned and left the office, her steps steady and quick.

The door closed gently, and the room returned to silence. Gu Chengyuan did not lie down, but got up and walked to the French windows.

Outside the window, there were brightly lit war zone offices and the shadows of rolling mountains in the distance.

He could imagine that people from all directions were probably too excited to sleep at this moment, savoring the shock of the day and the glory of the night. Their amazement and longing were quietly fermenting, becoming the most vivid footnote to the "Central Plains War Zone".

This is exactly what he wanted—to transform abstract concepts into tangible power and hope.

Exhaustion surged again, mixed with a chilling clarity.

The shouts of "Long live!" in the night sky after the fireworks still echo in my ears. The people's fervent love brings strength, but also a sense of walking on thin ice with caution.

He needs worship to unite his will and drive his plans, but he must also be constantly wary of its irrational dark side.

He returned to the recliner, picked up an encrypted briefing, and began to read it by the light.

The above are fragments of the initial reactions from observers in various war zones, revealing shock, fear, and calculation between the lines.

This grand event served as a deterrent to outsiders and a unifying force to internal groups, and it seems to have achieved its intended effect.

But the feast will eventually end, and when the sun rises tomorrow, the real challenges will follow: digesting the fruits of victory, responding to strategic adjustments from all sides, and turning passion into productivity... The briefing was put down, and he closed his eyes again.

My body was extremely exhausted, but my mind was unusually active, like an undercurrent beneath the ice, with countless plans, variables, and risks swirling in the darkness.

He knew he could only rest for a short time; after dawn, meetings, decisions, and visitors would come flooding in.

Just as I was half-asleep, my thoughts drifting like the tides, "knock, knock, knock," the door was knocked on again, not too hard, not too soft.

From outside the door came the distinctive, slightly rough but exceptionally clear report from Vice Admiral Chen Haitao, the commander-in-chief of the military parade and commander of the navy:

"Commander, Chen Haitao has come to report!"

Upon hearing that it was Chen Haitao, Gu Chengyuan suddenly opened his tightly closed eyes. He took a deep breath, as if trying to squeeze out the remaining fatigue from his lungs.

She then forced herself to stand up from the recliner, straightened her slightly wrinkled shirt, and walked towards the reception area on the other side of the office, which was surrounded by soft leather sofas.

"Come in."