After Being Reborn, I became a firefighter again?

As soon as these words were spoken, most people were stunned.

This comrade, most people did not recognize.

But, hearing this situation, how could it be an act of bravery?

"Instructor, he died in the line of service and wasn’t recognized as a martyr?" Equipment Technician Chen Gong asked.

Wang Yunkun was an Equipment Technician, and he had trained with Chen Gong, so they were more familiar with each other.

He was a good guy, very generous, made friends easily, and several times when everyone got together for meals, he was the one treating.

Unable to bear it, he spoke out against the injustice.

As soon as he said this, Ye Jiahong on the stage also turned his head to one side, his cheeks puffed out, and his eyes were slightly reddened.

The person with the closest relationship to Wang Yunkun sitting here was Ye Jiahong.

Ye Jiahong was transferred from the squadron where Wang Yunkun served two years ago. If we consider Ye Jiahong’s time in the service since passing the Military Academy exam, they were same year soldiers, both in their eighth year.

"He didn’t perish while saving people, but drowned while swimming to the other side of the shore after the rescue, and according to the hospital’s report, it was complications that caused his death.

According to the relevant regulations for commending martyrs, he cannot be recognized as a martyr.

However, the whole corps on our side gave as much preferential treatment as possible and provided the maximum consolation and condolence money.

Over there was the Provincial Government, Provincial Committee leaders sent him off, organized a 200-person farewell team, and after returning, the district committee leaders from his hometown will all attend."

When Hao Chengbin spoke, his voice was calm, trying not to show emotion.

"Martyrs’ families have follow-up benefits... What will his family do?" Zhao Jinchen asked with a frown.

"That’s the second matter we have to discuss today."

As Hao Chengbin spoke, he stood up, walked to the door, closed it, and did not return to the stage, but rather sat sideways among the soldiers, resting his hands on the tables on either side, and spoke in a negotiating tone:

"Comrade Wang Yunkun’s family is quite stricken with hardship, and they still have an unpaid large loan amounting to more than a hundred thousand.

His family doesn’t even know where the money has gone. His comrades from the squadron said it might have been for his girlfriend’s house renovation.

But his girlfriend claims to have received just over thirty thousand yuan, and has since returned it.

Now his family members have been approached by creditors demanding his condolence and consolation money.

I’ve asked around, many squadrons in his Detachment are raising funds for him, but not so much on the city side.

We were notified by our superiors that because the city squadrons have recently had numerous tasks, our two Special Duty Squadrons need to send people to keep vigil for him.

I discussed it with Captain Ye, and wondered if we, in the name of the squadron, should also raise some funds quietly and take them there?

But we can’t make this decision just among ourselves in the squadron’s leadership; I still want to hear everyone’s opinion."

Upon hearing this, the younger soldiers didn’t think too much about it.

"Let’s donate! It’s hard for everyone! I’ll donate 200."

"Right, I’ve met Squad Leader Wang, he was a really good person."

"I’m out of money, but I’ll donate 200 too, who can lend me some? I’ll pay it back when we get our salary at the end of the month!"

But the older Non-commissioned officers remained silent.

It wasn’t a question of how much to donate, but whether to donate at all.

If both squadrons are on duty, and the Second Squadron donates, does the First Squadron donate? If the Special Duty Squad contributes, do the other teams contribute?

No one had started this practice in the whole Detachment, and nobody wanted to be that "example."

That’s why Ye Jiahong was preparing to go himself in the afternoon, to offer some money in his personal capacity.

Fang Huai had been listening for a while, and after observing, he guessed the situation pretty accurately.

When it rains, it pours; misfortunes come in pairs.

The man was gone, but he left behind debts.

This kind of debt, regardless of how it was incurred, whether borrowing a large sum for a girlfriend’s renovation and not spending that much yet or, thinking he had money and not planning, always treating others generously—maybe he was just reckless with spending.

But in the end, it was a famine he had set himself up for, and it wasn’t because his parents or children were sick.

These days, military salaries aren’t high; everyone is young, with their private expenses, sending money home, who can guarantee they won’t face financial dry spells?

It wasn’t right for everyone to help pay off this kind of debt—previous fallen comrades who didn’t have an urgent need for money at home weren’t organized this way. If this precedent were set, it wouldn’t be fair to those who had died before.

And a hero’s private affairs shouldn’t be publicized.

That’s why the Detachment did not organize fundraising and didn’t really advocate for it.

But out of personal feelings, Ye Jiahong hoped everyone would help. After all, with the son gone, something should be left for the elders—the life he gave shouldn’t just go towards paying off debts. So, Cao Yi revealed the true situation, letting everyone decide for themselves.

Luckily, no one said anything; the words "comrade’s bond" were inherently invaluable in everyone’s heart.

Fang Huai couldn’t help but sigh quietly.

In other cities, although the dangerous duty allowance was not as much as in Guiyang Liupanshui, there was at least a good five hundred yuan a month. The salary of a second stage officer was also about two thousand and some, but still, borrowing and spending seemed excessive, didn’t it?

Firefighters inherently work in a high-risk industry, it would seem appropriate to consider one’s parents a bit more and save some money for home.

But thinking back to his previous life, he had never considered these points.

If he had become a martyred hero back then, perhaps his situation wouldn’t have been much better.

Nobody expects their life to end so suddenly.

It wasn’t filial neglect—it was just a hope to wait a little longer.

He was still young; his parents were not yet old.

In his previous life, waiting resulted in his wish to support his parents unfulfilled.

Really, with the mess he made of his life, even if his parents waited another twenty years, it would have been in vain.

"I think we should do it in our personal capacities. Those who are willing can put down their names, and we’ll have the people responsible for the night vigil take the total amount. That wouldn’t be considered a squadron fundraiser and wouldn’t put other squadrons in a difficult position, right?" Fang Hongliang spoke up.

Cao Yi immediately looked over at the group of older Non-commissioned officers: "What do you think?"

This suggestion undoubtedly aligned most with Cao Yi’s thoughts.

He didn’t want to be the first one from the Detachment to stick his neck out, nor did he want the soldiers to be coerced in the name of donations, but Ye Jiahong insisted that fundraising should occur to reflect the warmth of the collective.

To put it plainly, Ye Jiahong did indeed intend to use group fundraising to gain more funds for Wang Yunkun.

That way, everyone would donate a little bit.

But if it were left to individuals to pass along spontaneously, it was uncertain how many would contribute.

After all, by doing so, it turned into a matter of personal favors, and most people who didn’t know each other well would have to think it over.

"I think it’s okay, personal feelings aside, let’s not go through with the fundraiser," Hao Chengbin led the concurrence.

"Alright, this is a bit more appropriate. The Big Team, the Detachment, everyone acts on their own initiative," the old soldiers also agreed.

When Ye Jiahong heard everyone’s opinion, he couldn’t hold back anymore and immediately stood up to leave.

"Then I won’t bother with you guys. As for me, I’ll deliver it myself this afternoon.

Instructor Cao, I’d like to take a couple of days off. I’m going to keep vigil for him. Arrange the Squadron as usual, I’ll go on my own.

When my mom had her fall, he took a detour on his leave for travel, going more than two hundred kilometers out of his way to buy yak bone powder for my mom. I owe him those two hundred kilometers."

By the end, his voice was choked with tears.

"Hey, Ye Jiahong! Don’t leave, man!" Cao Yi quickly called out to stop him.

"Bang." The door had already closed again.

Everyone fell into a quiet contemplation.

In this matter, Ye Jiahong was indeed being a bit childish, but no one felt right to comment.

To be precise, everyone could understand.

Which old soldier doesn’t have a few comrades they would disregard their own principles to look after? Ye Jiahong’s way was just more direct.

However, Instructor Cao didn’t have the authority to grant Ye Jiahong leave. The right to approve leave for Squadron officers lay with the Big Team. If Ye Jiahong were to leave without permission for two or three days, that would be a serious breach of discipline.

Behind all this was the regret involving the rules for martyr recognition.

"Martyr status is granted only to those who perish while defending or rescuing the people’s lives, state property, and collective property, meaning only while they are actively engaged in defense or rescue efforts can they be designated as martyrs."

The one-time compensation for a martyr is eighty months of current salary, while dying in the line of duty counts for forty months.

Acts of bravery, on the other hand, do not confer martyrdom. Dying in the line of duty only accounts for forty months.

This salary is based on the base salary, excluding various living and position allowances.

According to the current base salary standard for second stage officers, it’s roughly around two thousand, give or take, which makes a difference of 80,000 yuan.

...

Squadron Department.

Cao Yi found Fang Huai’s Nokia 5200 from a transparent glass cabinet divided into numerous small compartments and placed it on the table.

"You have the charger, right?"

Fang Huai nodded.

"Is there any credit on it? Charge it up and give me a call, so I can find you if something comes up," continued Cao Yi.

Fang Huai nodded again, "Yes, Instructor Cao, I remember your number, I will call you in a bit."

"Hmm, you know the mobile phone management regulations, you know in which situations not to use it, I don’t need to tell you, right?"

When Cao Yi spoke, he lacked his usual vigor; just now, everyone had heard Ye Jiahong arguing with him in the Squadron Department.

"I know, Instructor Cao. When the hero arrives later, are we all going?"

"Yes, all of our First Squadron’s duty vehicles will make a trip, and each Squadron will just keep five people to keep vigil through the night."

"I..." Fang Huai began to speak again.

But Cao Yi interrupted, "You’re a new recruit, and you didn’t know him, so you won’t be keeping vigil. We’ll leave a few Non-commissioned officers who knew him to accompany him."

Unable to refute such reasoning, Fang Huai could only answer "Yes".

...

Five o’clock in the afternoon.

At the highway’s exit toll both, a black military SUV, a bus, and a black hearse slowly came to a halt.

Sixty Firefighter Soldiers from the Second Squadron and the First Squadron stood neatly on either side of the formation, solemnly waiting.

Leaders from the Big Team, Detachment, and government had all arrived. They stood silently at the end of the formation, watching the vehicles approach.

Civilians from his hometown who came on their own initiative stood at an even wider area to the sides, forming a corridor of honor.

Once all vehicles had exited, they proceeded slowly again.

Political Commissar Cheng stepped out from the crowd and shouted loudly:

"All units, present arms to Comrade Wang Yunkun!"

All the military personnel on-site raised their hands in salute, in unison.

A soldier of eight years, lay still and gently inside the black hearse, passing beside them.

Some old soldiers who knew him began to tear up silently, stifling sobs.

Ye Jiahong, who had come for the send-off, was hiding in the back of the crowd, crouched down on the ground, his back trembling uncontrollably.

Fang Huai watched this scene with mixed emotions.

The person in the car was a stranger to him, yet he had been through the same scenes, the same emergency rescues, the same cold lake waters of February and March.

Someone patted him on the shoulder from behind, speaking with heartfelt emotion:

"Be careful when you respond to a call."

Fang Huai didn’t turn around, saying:

"Uncle, are you free tomorrow?"

...

(I took a nap this afternoon, so only the first Chapter is finished for today. The second Chapter will have to be posted before midnight.)