October 8th.
Number 1, Chang'an Street, Second Ring Gold Line.
The early morning was neither clear nor dark, the sunlight was pale white and not dazzling, and the temperature was a pleasant 17 degrees Celsius.
Fang Huai took a shower and changed into his spring and autumn uniform, picked up the briefcase issued by the troops, and walked out of the Oriental Grand Hyatt Hotel, where he had spent a fortune to stay.
Next to him was a fellow villager from Guizhou.
Cao Yi, representing the Squadron at the commendation ceremony.
On such a big day, he definitely couldn't stay in a small hotel, so he chose one particularly close to Tiananmen Square, and even called Old Cao, who had arrived yesterday afternoon, insisting on treating him and arranging for his stay.
There had been a lot going on lately, and the two talked about school and the squadron matters until past three o'clock before they slept.
But upon waking up today, they were both in high spirits.
