Under the golden glow of the lamp, Ethan Taylor was hunched over his desk, writing furiously. This was the dormitory assigned to him by the town government—somewhat simply furnished, with the only appliance being a 14-inch color TV on the cabinet. In the early 1990s, color TVs were slowly making their way into northern rural areas, but they were still a luxury for the few; most rural families still had only black-and-white sets.

Ethan Taylor was working on “The Gains and Losses of Economic Reforms in the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics,” preparing it for use in a few months. This was the most important part of his preparations, an article he was determined to perfect, racking his brains over every detail.

“Ring ring ring…” The phone on the nightstand suddenly rang. Normally, the town leaders’ dorms didn’t have telephones; Ethan Taylor had installed this one at his own expense.

Ethan Taylor put down his pen, rubbed his slightly sore arm, walked over to the bed, and picked up the phone. A gentle female voice came through the receiver: “Xiao Yi?”

“Mom?” Ethan Taylor suddenly felt a surge of emotion. The word “Mom” slipped out so naturally. Even he was a bit surprised, as if his feelings for the woman had instantly shifted from the special respect he’d had for his grandmother in the past to the warmth of a mother now. Maybe he really had merged completely with his adoptive father’s body?

“Xiao Yi, it’s me. Are you doing well? How’s work? Is it hard?” The woman’s voice was a bit emotional. She was Ethan Taylor’s adoptive father’s mother, Henry Scott. Ethan Taylor’s adoptive father’s father had died in the Vietnam War, and the son was then raised by the old patriarch. Out of boredom, Henry Scott got a U.S. green card and started a small company in America as a way to keep herself occupied. But in that other timeline, after Ethan Taylor’s adoptive father left the family, she eventually closed her American business and rushed back to China to live with Ethan Taylor’s family, supporting her son. She was a strong woman who could both take action and let go when needed. Her influence was inseparable from the growth of her godson.

Listening to her gentle words, Ethan Taylor felt a bitterness in his throat and his eyes grew hot, but he still forced himself to control his emotions, trying to keep his voice steady: “Mom, I’m doing well. How about you?”

“I’m doing well too. Life here is much better than back home! You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Xiao Yi, the old patriarch called me and said you’ve been doing really well lately!” Henry Scott’s voice carried a hint of pride. Although the old patriarch was quite displeased with her for going to America to start a business, and Henry Scott seemed not to care about his opinion, in the hearts of the Tang family, who wouldn’t be proud to receive a few words of praise from the old patriarch?

Ethan Taylor was taken aback. Only now did he realize that although the old patriarch seemed indifferent, nothing he did escaped the old man’s notice. Apparently, the old patriarch was satisfied with his performance in the Li Wenhe case and, for once, had even called his mother.

On the phone, Henry Scott laughed again: “Xiao Yi, you have to work hard. Whether I can hold my head high in the Tang family all depends on you!” Although she said it jokingly, it still carried a hint of a mother’s pride in her son’s achievements. Ethan Taylor knew she actually cared a lot about her status in the Tang family.

“Mom, how’s your business going?”

“Sigh, it’s just a small company, not making much money, and the cost of living here is high. What, are you hoping your old mom will make a fortune to support you in your old age?” Henry Scott giggled. Though she said this, Ethan Taylor knew she had her own way of doing business and was probably doing quite well.

“Mom, you’re in the trade business, right?” Ethan Taylor glanced at the calendar on the wall, suddenly struck by an idea.

“Oh? Since when do you care about my company? Are you still not fond of politics and want to come join me in business? Let me tell you, don’t bring up those unambitious ideas again!” Henry Scott said, half-joking, half-serious, actually reminding Ethan Taylor to stay on track.

“No.” Ethan Taylor looked at the calendar, thought for a long time, and finally made up his mind to ask, “I want to ask you something. What do you think about the situation in Iraq?”

“Sigh, my dear son, I didn’t make this international call to discuss politics with you. Silly boy, do you know how much this costs per minute?” Henry Scott laughed, as she had always loved teasing her somewhat simple-minded son since he was little.

Ethan Taylor scratched his head helplessly, but still had to continue: “That’s not what I mean. I’ve been analyzing things these days, and I think the Gulf War is definitely going to break out, and the UN forces will win quickly, maybe with hardly any casualties. I wonder if my analysis is of any use to your trade business.”

Henry Scott’s giggles abruptly stopped. After a long pause, her voice sounded again, this time very serious: “Are you serious?”

“I’m serious. And I think, within a few months, the Soviet Union is very likely to collapse.” Ethan Taylor’s words were shocking for the time. Even the most radical Western scholars hadn’t foreseen the imminent collapse of the Soviet Union. As for the Iraq War, no one imagined that the Persian Gulf’s overlord, then considered the world’s third military power, would be so easily defeated by the United States. From the first Gulf War onward, the Republic was deeply shaken, which in turn accelerated its drive to strengthen its military through science and technology.