Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The operations room, deep inside the Shenzhou Bureau, was eerily quiet.

The huge world map on the wall was now filled with a dense array of red and blue arrows.

Although the war on the peninsula is still raging, the overall situation is already decided. The US military has been completely driven back south of the 38th parallel, and the once invincible "UN forces" defensive line is now riddled with holes after being bombed by the Dongfeng-0.

Shen Jinghong stood with his hands behind his back in front of the map.

His gaze did not linger on the peninsula where he had just won a great victory, but crossed the towering mountains and went west, and further west.

Ultimately, the image was captured in the heart of Northwest China, in that desolate, uninhabited area with only endless yellow sand and barren salt flats.

Lop Nur.

"Chief."

Lin Qinghan pushed open the door and walked in, her steps hurried.

She held a newly translated foreign media report in her hand, her face so solemn it looked like it was dripping with water.

"The Americans are getting desperate."

She handed the document to Shen Jinghong, her voice low but chilling:

"Just half an hour ago, Truman held an emergency press conference in Washington."

"In response to reporters' questions, he publicly stated: The U.S. government will consider using all necessary weapons on the Korean battlefield to reverse the current decline."

"When reporters pressed for clarification on whether this included the atomic bomb..."

Lin Qinghan took a deep breath:

He did not deny it.

"Furthermore, the U.S. military's B-29 bomber force has begun conducting simulated nuclear weapon delivery drills at bases in Japan. There are even intelligence reports that nuclear warheads have been delivered to Okinawa."

Nuclear blackmail.

This is blatant nuclear blackmail.

If I can't beat you, I'll destroy you with absolute power. That's the consistent bandit logic of the Onsa gang.

The air seemed to freeze for a moment.

Atomic bomb.

In this era, this word represents absolute destruction, an irresistible divine punishment.

"Oh."

A soft laugh broke the deathly silence.

Shen Jinghong casually tossed the internal report onto the table, as if it were a used piece of waste paper.

"That old Truman, that's all he's good for."

He turned around, his face showing no fear whatsoever, but rather a cold, extremely contemptuous smile:

"Trying to scare people with atomic bombs?"

"He's all talk. If you actually asked him to press that button, he wouldn't dare, not even if you gave him ten lives."

"Why?" Lin Qinghan asked, puzzled. "They're already practicing."

"Because the Soviet Union also had it."

Shen Jinghong walked to the window, looked at the gloomy sky outside, and said with a firm tone:

"This is the great power game. Although we are not yet in a position of power, as long as we have the support of the red camp and as long as we do not lose on the battlefield, they will not dare to easily break this balance."

"but……"

Shen Jinghong turned around abruptly, the contempt in her eyes instantly turning into a steel-like hardness:

"To entrust the fate of the nation to the deterrence of others is not my style, nor is it the style of China."

"It's better to have it yourself than to have it from others."

"If your father and mother have them, you might as well keep them in your own bosom."

"This sword has been hanging over our heads for too long. It's time to take it down and hold it in our own hands."

He strode to his desk, picked up the red secure phone, and dialed a number known only to a very few people.

"Connect to Zhongnanhai. Find Marshal Nie."

The moment the call connected.

Shen Jinghong's voice became more solemn and dignified than ever before:

"Commander, this is Shen Jinghong."

"The situation on the peninsula has stabilized; we won the conventional war. But that's not enough."

"If we want to silence the great powers completely, and if we want the Chinese nation to stand up straight and not be held hostage by anyone."

"We must have our own truth."

He glanced at Lin Qinghan standing beside him, then at Lop Nur on the map on the wall.

"I request that the focus of the Shenzhou Bureau's work be shifted immediately."

"Fully launch the '596 Project'."

"I'm going to transport all those centrifuges and enriched uranium we brought back from the United States to the Great Northwest!"

"I want to grow a giant mushroom that belongs to us, in a place where no one can see it!"

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.

Immediately afterwards, Marshal Nie's voice, slightly trembling yet incredibly firm, rang out:

"approve."

"We'll provide manpower and funding if needed. Even if we have to sell everything we own, we'll get this 'spirit-building bomb' out of the woods!"

……

three days later.

late at night.

In an abandoned freight station on the western outskirts of Beijing, a dark, stuffy freight train is parked.

There is no timetable, no dispatch order.

This train, like a ghost, quietly awaits its passengers.

The platform was bitterly cold.

Hundreds of researchers dressed in casual clothes and carrying simple luggage are quietly boarding the train.

Among them were elderly professors with gray hair and spirited young students.

Just yesterday, they were on the university lecture stage and in the research institute laboratory.

Today, they all share a new name – "596".

From this moment on, their names will disappear from the archives, and their whereabouts will become a top national secret. They will live in anonymity, on that desolate Gobi Desert, sacrificing their youth, and even their lives, for a promise.

Shen Jinghong stood at the door of the carriage.

He was wearing that faded military overcoat and carrying a briefcase full of core data.

"Is everything arranged?"

He asked Chen Weiguo behind him.

"It's all arranged, Director."

Chen Weiguo's eyes were a little red. "The entire First Battalion of the Guard Regiment is going with us. Once we get there, we'll be the first line of defense. As long as we have a breath left, we will never let the sandstorm bury our equipment!"

"Good brother."

Shen Jinghong patted him on the shoulder.

At this moment, Lin Qinghan walked over.

She didn't bring her signature leather suitcase—all the blueprints inside had already been turned into physical objects. She only carried a military pack and wore a bright red scarf, which stood out vividly in the darkness.

"Let's go."

She reached out and naturally took Shen Jinghong's hand.

My palms are warm and dry.

"It's tough over there." Shen Jinghong looked at her, feeling a pang of pity. "It's all sand, even the water is salty. You're so delicate..."

"With you here, I'm not suffering."

Lin Qinghan interrupted him, a gentle smile curving her lips:

"Besides, I'm your confidential secretary. Wherever you go, I go. This is a 'political mission' approved by Marshal Nie. Do you want to disobey orders?"

Shen Jinghong smiled.

A laugh of relief, a laugh of boldness.

"Okay, let's go together then."

"Let's go to that godforsaken place and do something earth-shattering!"

"Ugh—!!!"

The steam whistle blared.

The sound was no longer mournful, but full of power, like the low roar of a dragon before it awakens.

Shen Jinghong pulled Lin Qinghan along, taking one last look at the bustling night scene of the capital.

Goodbye, Beijing.

"When I come back..."

He took a deep breath, his gaze sharp as lightning, and looked towards the distant northwest:

"I will let the whole world hear our dragon's roar!"

The two turned around and boarded the train.

The car door closed.

The steel dragon slowly started, spewing out thick white smoke, carrying these toughest members of the Chinese nation, rushing into the vast night, heading towards that desolate yet magnificent place.

The smoke of the Korean War has not yet dissipated.

A thunderclap is brewing deep in the desert.

The industrial explosion that belongs to China and the glorious era of major national projects have only just begun!

(Volume 2: The Rise of the Korean Peninsula and the Industrial Revolution - The End)

(Next volume preview: A lone plume of smoke rises over the desert, a mushroom cloud looms! When that deafening roar shakes the world, and the Dongfeng Express delivers on its mission, how will Shen Jinghong lead China to truly stand at the pinnacle of the world? Stay tuned for Volume 3: Truth Lies Within Range!)