I Am a Logistics Tycoon in Anti-Japanese War

When I opened my eyes, I woke up from the cold on a barren slope in 1942, with several corpses lying around me, and the sound of gunfire in the distance. Lin Feng in 2024 couldn't react at all - he clutched the only bronze compass, and with a thought, a translucent blue light screen popped up in front of him: 200 pounds of frozen pork. 50 Pounds of Chinese cabbage. Quilts for 10 beds. Pack of 60 compressed biscuits. 30 Pounds of refined salt. He was wrapped in a new quilt, gnawing on compressed biscuits, and was pinned to the spot by a wounded man who was about to freeze to death, a pair of rough hands stretched out, and the words "Comrade, thank you." He originally wanted to trade 30 kilograms of salt - but when he saw the matchlight in the battalion commander's eyes, he suddenly didn't want to negotiate the price. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.