The last leader of the world starts with an elite infantry squad!

Chapter 1408: The Eight-Character Policy: Holistic Agriculture

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After a long silence in the office, Gu Chengyuan, having processed everything, nodded in approval and then turned his gaze back to the neatly cut map of Yue.

The Red River Delta, the Mekong Delta, the central plateau, the coastal area, and the northern hills.

The five grain-producing regions are like five wedges embedded in this narrow strip of land, while everything outside the wedges is labeled as "laissez-faire".

He spoke slowly, his voice low and deep:

What about industry?

"Although the Yue Kingdom wasn't particularly developed before the end of the world, it still had some resources. What should we do with those factories, equipment, and skilled workers?"

"Reporting to the commander, our predecessors in Zhou Bang have already set an example for us on this issue!"

At this point, Wu Bin pulled out another document from the folder, turned to a page, and pushed it in front of Gu Chengyuan.

It was a densely packed list, titled: "Outline for the Dismantling, Transportation, and Destruction of Industrial Equipment in Vietnam."

"There is only one principle: move everything that can be moved; destroy everything that cannot be moved on the spot."

Wu Bin's voice was steady, as if he were discussing today's weather.

"Wherever the army advances, the engineering corps follows. Factories, mines, power plants, machine shops, repair workshops... all large-scale industrial facilities are included in the dismantling and transportation list."

"The machinery and equipment were dismantled, packed into boxes, loaded onto trains, and transported back to Zhou Bang territory by rail, one train after another."

"Skilled workers—those who are willing to leave, can take their families with them and be resettled in the industrial zone we've built on the border to continue contributing their skills; those who are unwilling to leave…"

He paused, not continuing, but that silence said it all.

Gu Chengyuan didn't ask any further questions; he simply looked at the list, his gaze slowly shifting.

Wu Bin continued:

"All the industrial equipment that has been transported back will be centrally located in several cities along the border between Zhou and Yue—Pingxiang, Hekou, and Dongxing."

“Establish special ‘Agricultural Reclamation and Industrial Zones’ in these cities.”

"Produce only one thing—industrial goods needed for agricultural reclamation."

"Tractors, water pumps, fertilizers, pesticides, farm implements, irrigation pipes... as well as maintenance parts and simple machinery needed to maintain the basic operation of the five major grain-producing areas."

He reached out and drew a horizontal line on the northern border of the Yue Kingdom map.

"The products manufactured in these industrial zones are transported back to Vietnam by rail to supply agricultural production in the five major grain-producing areas."

"In this way, we have completed another perfect closed loop."

"The Yue Kingdom provides agricultural labor to produce food, which is then transported back to the Zhou Kingdom to feed the survivors of the Zhou Kingdom and the Yue Kingdom's 'relocated army'; the border industrial zone produces agricultural and industrial products, which are then exported back to the Yue Kingdom to maintain food production; while the Yue Kingdom's own industrial base has been completely depleted, and considering the post-apocalyptic environment, the chance of recovery is almost zero!"

His finger lightly tapped the open area outside the five grain-producing regions on the map of Yue.

"Without industry, there are no weapons. Without weapons, there is no ability to resist."

"What can an agricultural region that has completely lost its industrial capacity use to resist?"

Wu Bin's voice wasn't loud, but every word was like a nail, driven into that map.

"We will uproot its industry, uproot its army, uproot its skilled workers! Uproot its labor force!"

"The rest were cut into five pieces, each of which is under our direct control and each of which is supplying us with blood."

"What can it use to resist?"

"Trying to block our machine guns with your own flesh and blood? Using bamboo spike traps to stop our armored vehicles? Using bone mud to get stuck in our tank tracks?"

Wu Bin gently shook his head.

"You can try."

“We welcome them to try.”

“Every attempt to resist depletes their already limited young and middle-aged labor force. And after each rebellion is suppressed, the relatively stable life with food in the five major grain-producing areas becomes even more attractive to the survivors who are still hesitant.”

"We don't even need to wipe out the rebels. Having lost their industrial capacity, all they can expect is an endless, inescapable apocalyptic net of slaughter!"

With Wu Bin's final, definitive statement, the office fell into a long silence once again.

The Red River Delta, the Mekong Delta, the central plateau, the coastal area, the northern hills, and five grain-producing regions.

Along the border, there are several industrial zones that have been fenced off.

And the railway lines running through it—transport lines, lifelines, and also nooses.

He slowly raised his head and looked at Wu Bin.

"This plan was unanimously approved by the theater command standing committee while I was away?"

Wu Bin nodded.

"Passed unanimously."

Gu Chengyuan remained silent for a moment.

Then he spoke.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word seemed to be ground out from the depths of the throat:

"Then... let's do it."

Wu Bin stood up, stood at attention, and saluted.

The movements were swift and decisive.

That salute was more precise and powerful than the one-second pause when entering the room.

Then he turned and walked toward the door.

The moment his hand touched the doorknob, he paused and turned around.

"Commander."

Gu Chengyuan looked up.

Wu Bin's usually composed expression finally softened slightly, and he opened his mouth as if to say something.

In the end, he simply said softly:

"Please take care."

The door opened, then closed again.

Only Gu Chengyuan remained in the office.

He lowered his head again, his gaze falling on the document in front of him—the final plan for adjusting the policy towards Vietnam.

The army was relocated inland, and agriculture was completely restored.

Eight words determined the fate of tens of millions of people.

He picked up the pen and signed his name at the end of the document.

The brushstrokes are sharp and powerful, penetrating the paper.

The sky outside the window was gradually darkening, and the lights of the night market were lighting up one after another in the distance.

Beneath those lights are countless survivors rebuilding their homes.

Unbeknownst to them, thousands of miles away in southern Xinjiang, a country is being dismantled, reshaped, and transformed into a giant granary.

They only need to know:

In the future, under the leadership of the theater commanders and the Chairman, they will soon be able to have enough to eat!

The sun will be a little warmer tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be a little better than today.

This is enough.

As for the bloodshed and sins that come with it, they will be firmly kept out by the army of the Central Plains War Zone!

Gu Chengyuan put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and looked out the window at the deepening night.

South.

Yue country.

Five grain-producing areas.

Food and clothing for 80 million people.

He recalled looking up at the more than three hundred plain white tombstones on the slope.

I remembered that short, thin, small monolithic monument.

I remembered the pair of dark blue gloves my mother was clutching.

I remembered Lin Miaomiao's hand protecting her lower abdomen, and the slightly protruding curve.

I was reminded of Gucheng Lake, that scorched earth swallowed by spore clouds.

It reminded me of the First Infantry Brigade of Yezhou—who were all killed in action.

He closed his eyes.

for a long time.

When I opened my eyes, there were no extra emotions left, only a calm, almost cold clarity.

He picked up the internal phone on the table and dialed a number.

"Take over to the logistics department."

"I need to go through the equipment allocation list for the Vietnam Agricultural Reclamation Industrial Zone again."

"The first batch of supplies must be sent to Pingxiang within three days."

A voice answered the phone.

Gu Chengyuan hung up the phone and picked up the document again.

Turn to the last page.

On that densely packed "Outline for the Dismantling, Transportation and Destruction of Industrial Equipment in Vietnam," he added a line of annotation:

"Skilled workers and their families should be given priority in receiving living supplies. They should be properly resettled and must not be mistreated."

The pen paused for a second.

Then, he closed the file, stood up, and walked to the window.

The night is dark.

But he knew that after dawn, many things would begin to take shape.

He stood there, motionless for a long time.

Outside the window, the lights of the night market stubbornly shone in the darkness.