Chapter 65: When the People Have Faith, the Nation Has Strength

"The best material would be plastic, but making a prosthetic limb definitely requires an injection molding machine. That takes mold-making, which ordinary people don't know how to do, nor can they get their hands on such a machine."

Zhao Erwa asked helplessly, "So?"

"So, it would be best to have a lathe. Then you could make whatever shape you want."

"Whether it's iron, steel, or other materials, I can machine it out for you."

Zhao Erwa thought carefully and said, "Alright, if I can ditch the crutches and help out around the house a bit, I'll figure something out for this."

Qin Jun was finally pleased. In this era, finding a lathe domestically was truly difficult, especially in small towns, let alone rural areas.

"A broken one is fine too—one that's completely intact overall, but just unusable and beyond repair. Scrapped ones like that are best."

Qin Jun naturally didn't want to make things difficult for anyone, so he immediately suggested the solution he had in mind.

Scrapped machine tools like this should be the easiest to acquire.

This was simply because Qin Jun couldn't go abroad right now. If he could travel overseas at this moment—whether to the Soviet Union, East Germany, or even America—he should be able to get his hands on some obsolete, old-fashioned machine tools.

If he were lucky, he might even be able to procure military-grade mother machines from the Soviet Union or America that had been captured from Germany during World War II.

A large batch of military machine tools from that era were top-tier industrial mother machines.

By now, however, these machine tools had likely become garbage, gathering dust in the warehouses of various countries.

This was an inevitability of the times, as foreign nations should have already begun transitioning to CNC replacements.

Consequently, this massive batch of military mother machines later flowed into the black market.

Some of them ended up in Peshawar, and Qin Jun had once been fortunate enough to acquire a lathe there.

Such equipment was exceptionally reliable, as long as one didn't demand complete automation or intelligence.

Of course, operating machinery like this required genuine skill; otherwise, one could never bring out its full performance.

For instance, stability had to be properly managed, or else even the highest-precision machine tool would yield no results.

Unfortunately, Qin Jun could not go abroad at present and had to make his living domestically.

Yet within the country, no matter how dilapidated a lathe might be—even if completely scrapped—it would only sit gathering dust in the warehouses of various machinery plants.

Nowadays, a machine tool like this could never genuinely be processed as scrap or sold to a recycling station.

Acquiring a scrapped machine tool right now wasn't impossible, but it required connections.

Clearly, Zhao Erwa, as a veteran, stood a very good chance of finding a way if he were truly willing to help.

One had to remember that demobilized soldiers of this era all possessed a vast network of comrades-in-arms.

Especially soldiers like Zhao Erwa—to speak accurately, they were practically professionals.

Regrettably, due to a lack of formal education in the military, Zhao Erwa had never been able to secure an officer's commission and ultimately remained nothing more than a squad leader.

Otherwise, even with a missing leg, he would never have returned to the countryside.

Zhao Erwa paid no attention to what Qin Jun was thinking; the moment he understood Qin Jun's request, he put it right out of his mind.

For him, doing a favor like this was truly not difficult.

Thus, brimming with excitement once more, Zhao Erwa began pacing around the courtyard again.

It was evident that Zhao Erwa possessed genuine martial arts prowess, especially that single leg of his, which he whipped through the air with gale-force intensity!

From Qin Jun's perspective, this undoubtedly belonged to the realm of Northern kicks.

The fists are two doors, while the legs do all the work of striking.

This was evident simply from the way he walked; his gait was utterly unique, resembling that of the Hong Kong actor Yuen Biao.

The leg techniques he displayed now involved various aerial spinning kicks, backflips, and aerial rear kicks.

Coupled with his light-footed landings, it gave a faint impression of someone skimming snow without leaving tracks.

Qin Jun knew that such legwork demanded an extremely high level of difficulty and possessed formidable practical combat effectiveness.

Therefore, being able to survive after losing a leg in fierce combat meant he undoubtedly possessed true mastery!

Just as Qin Jun was appreciating the formidable nature of Zhao Erwa's leg techniques, he was instantly stunned.

Though he himself possessed a modest background in martial arts, he found himself utterly unable to evade Zhao Erwa's assault.

In the blink of an eye, Zhao Erwa closed the distance and unleashed a triple kick.

The first kick targeted the lower abdomen, the second struck the chest, and the third landed squarely at the neck.

Zhao Erwa's speed was so blinding that Qin Jun had practically no time to react before seeing a flurry of shadowless kicks halt right before his throat.

Staring at the dark, sword-like steel plate right in front of him, Qin Jun felt a wave of regret.

He never should have brought this gadget used by female assassins in movies into reality.

"Relax, this isn't the battlefield; I was just playing around!" Zhao Erwa said amusedly upon seeing Qin Jun's expression.

Qin Jun refused to believe that, so he asked, "When you came home, did you have nightmares when you slept?"

"I did," Zhao Erwa answered after a brief silence.

Qin Jun's mood turned somewhat heavy, but he continued to ask, "In your sleep, would you be startled awake by the people around you?"

This time, Zhao Erwa remained silent, leaving Qin Jun to press on: "At the slightest sign of trouble, would you treat every bush and tree as an enemy soldier?"

Zhao Erwa sighed. "Don't ask anymore. The doctors asked all of this when I came home."

"While recuperating in the hospital, whenever wounded soldiers like us fell asleep, no one dared to go near us!"

Lifting his gaze to look at Qin Jun, Zhao Erwa continued, "It's an instinct; our nerves were strung too tight."

"I've been home for half a year now, and your sister-in-law sleeps right beside me every day. What do you think I could possibly do?"

"Besides, I don't have a weapon on me. Am I supposed to slit her throat with a knife, or just snap your sister-in-law's neck instead?"

"It's been seven or eight months since I stepped off the battlefield, and I've long since adapted—after all, I didn't spend all that much time on the frontline."

"So it's not as severe as you think. You have to realize the hospital wouldn't have discharged me if I failed the psychological evaluation!"

Qin Jun breathed a sigh of relief. It was good that he didn't suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.

Otherwise, dealing with a battle-hardened king of soldiers who possessed formidable martial arts skills and PTSD sounded dangerous no matter how one looked at it.

"Relieved now? Anyone who develops psychological issues from killing monkeys is just a soft coward."

"Anyway, I don't carry the slightest psychological burden. What's the big deal about wiping out a few beasts?"

"Besides, was it something we wanted? The country needed it, the people needed it—what wouldn't or daren't we do?"

"Why should we feel guilty after doing it? Isn't this how it's supposed to be?"

Qin Jun was utterly dumbfounded; he felt that Zhao Erwa's worldview was far more elevated than his own.

It was only then that Qin Jun recalled the internet analyses of post-traumatic stress disorder from later generations.

Many people had wondered why so few people suffered from PTSD in a country that had experienced numerous domestic wars.

Later, some analyzed that it must have been because of faith.

The people had faith, and the country had strength—that saying was by no means spoken idly.

Precisely because they possessed faith, they felt no sense of guilt whatsoever for killing in wartime.

When one kills with a clear and righteous conscience, how could one possibly contract these strange, lingering maladies?

Instead, it was merely instincts and vigilance that caused significant lingering effects.

Just as Zhao Erwa said, right after coming off the battlefield, none of the wounded soldiers allowed anyone to approach while they slept.

At the slightest commotion, they would jolt awake from their slumber and instantly launch a counterattack.

That wasn't a disease; it was instinct—a form of muscle memory and instinct forged on the battlefield!

And that was merely for survival; once returned to a safe environment, those instincts gradually faded until they disappeared.

"Let's go, it's fine!"

"If there really were something wrong, I'd be the one who should worry the most, considering..."

Zhao Erwa trailed off, though Qin Jun understood completely.

Qin Jun chuckled outright instead. "It must be your sister-in-law who worries the most, right? Holding you in her sleep every day—if you really had a nightmare, would you end up pinning her down and beating her up?"

Zhao Erwa's face instantly darkened!

Qin Jun found it hilarious, but he only dared to laugh inwardly; he certainly didn't dare to continue teasing him.

His physical condition right now was poor; even with nearly two months of continuous nourishment, he still possessed the body of a child.

Therefore, even if he possessed a burst of strength right now, he was definitely no match for Zhao Erwa in his prime.

As for martial arts, if he could eat his fill, eat well, and let his body recover effectively, Qin Jun would genuinely want to pick them up again.

After all, the older generation of his Qin family all possessed martial arts training.

It was precisely his generation that failed to learn much due to the constraints of living conditions.

Yet Qin Jun eventually learned them later on; once living standards improved, the martial arts of the older generation were bound to be passed down.

Unfortunately, by that time Qin Jun's physique had already hardened, and no amount of practice yielded much progress.

"What are you daydreaming about? If nothing's wrong, go eat first. Once we've eaten, we'll sort things out at the factory, and tomorrow I'll go to the county town with you!"

It was clear that Zhao Erwa excelled at regulating his own emotions.

A moment ago his mood had been heavy, but now he had turned optimistic and cheerful once more!