Group Captain Pang Tong of the 209th Regiment, responsible for zones 6, 7, and 8, had been tormented by petty reports from the neighboring areas these past few days and found himself endlessly drinking herbal tea to cool down.
Political Commissar Sun Fujun had just finished munching on a roasted potato when he saw Pang Tong clutching his cheek, his face twitching incessantly.
"Toothache again?"
"Sigh... It's the heat," complained Pang Tong, clutching his cheek, feeling parched and tongue-tied.
"Cool it down, cool it down. The higher-ups haven't arrived yet, so there's no use getting heated."
Pang Tong came over, "Do you think that Old Tang could speak up for us? That kid is fundamentally different from us. When he speaks to the higher-ups, it certainly carries more weight than a whole basket of our words. I just don't know if he's willing."
Sun Fujun, nonchalantly peeling the potato skin, would occasionally blow on it to cool it down.
