Yu Lian's first reaction was, Oh? There's actually a deal like this? Wasn't this like finally getting the in-laws to agree that there was no need for a dowry when you married their daughter, only for them to provide a dowry themselves and even send along a maid to share your bed? Honestly, even in the wicked old days, you'd only get a deal like this if you were a top scholar and someone snatched you up as a son-in-law.
Still, that raised another question: if the other side was offering so much, what did they stand to gain?
Was it because Yani and Creel had put in a word for him? Don't make him laugh. Those two were among the most elite capitalists, and what they valued most was keeping business and personal matters separate. Compared with them, even feudal aristocrats seemed warm and sentimental. Besides, the other side had no direct connection to the military procurement department, at least on the surface. Even if they really did care about their personal relationship with him, they'd have much more clever ways to show it.
So there had to be something fishy going on.
First, though, he needed to explain the other side's idea of a general-purpose combined-arms division. It was important to understand that in an era when the tech tree had gone off the rails, a so-called combined-arms division wasn't the kind of tactical unit Yu Lian remembered from his previous life's homeworld: one with combined-arms strikes and deployment capabilities, and a more precise, streamlined command structure built around digital technology. He had been very eager to establish such a unit ahead of everyone else, but while the hardware was already up to the task—and there was plenty of it—the software improvements would take a long time. They