Live Stream 1980: Netizens Teach Me How to Make a Rocket by Hand

The entire room fell silent.

You could hear a pin drop.

Zhao Dagang opened his mouth wide, his jaw almost dislocated.

Old Zhang's hand, which was picking up the wrench, froze in mid-air.

Escort? Mold?

Lin Xi's lips curled slightly upward as she returned a gesture that, while not perfectly standard, was nonetheless sufficiently solemn:

"Thanks for your hard work."

"It's not hard work!"

The officer waved his hand, "Unload!"

The four soldiers turned and ran toward the truck.

A moment later, a heavy box was carried in.

"What...what kind of treasure is this?"

Zhao Dagang shakily got up, moved closer, wanting to touch but not daring to.

"Move aside." Lin Xi took the crowbar handed to him by the soldier and inserted it into the gap in the wooden box.

"Creak—"

With a crisp cracking sound of breaking wood, the lid of the box was lifted.

Lin Xi reached out and tore open the layers of oil paper wrapping.

The next second, a cold, eerie light pierced the dimness of the workshop.

"hiss--"

A collective gasp of astonishment rippled through the crowd.

Lying inside the box was a huge steel mold.

Under the red light of the infrared bulb, the surface of the mold cavity reflected a glossy sheen without any distortion.

That's not metal.

It was a mirror.

Old Zhang seemed to be bewitched, slowly moving over step by step.

He stretched out his calloused hand, trembling, and hovered it a centimeter above the mold, too afraid to put it down.

"Die steel..."

Old Zhang muttered to himself, his voice trembling.

"This smoothness... how was it achieved through polishing?"

"I don't believe it! A machine can't produce this level of water quality!"

"This was ground by hand."

Lin Xi reached out and touched the cold steel surface, her fingertips seemingly able to feel the warmth of her master Li Jianguo's large hands.

"Li Jianguo, an eighth-level worker at the Northwest Base, and two other eighth-level master craftsmen, didn't sleep for seven days and seven nights."

Lin Xi's voice was deep.

"Using the finest oilstone, combined with the heat treatment properties of this special steel, we managed to grind the tolerance down to the micrometer level."

"Silk-grade..."

Old Zhang suddenly looked up, his eyes reddening.

"You...you're using eighth-grade craftsmanship to make fans?"

"Why not?" Lin Xi retorted.

"Who says fans have to be cheaply made gadgets?"

He turned to look at the officer:

"Please thank Master Li for me."

"Tell him, I caught this knife."

The officer nodded, said nothing more, and led his troops away.

They came like the wind and left like lightning, leaving behind only the wooden box and a room full of workers who were still in shock.

"Don't just stand there!"

Lin Xi clapped her hands, breaking the silence.

"Get the molds! Factory Manager Zhao, don't you want to make money anymore?"

"Make money! Make money!"

Zhao Dagang seemed to wake from a dream, leaping to his feet and shouting so loudly it was unrecognizable.

"Quick! Carry this treasure upstairs!"

......

Ten minutes later.

A "Red Star Gentle Breeze" electric fan, entirely manufactured by the Hongfeng factory, stood quietly on the control panel.

The five fan blades exhibit a perfect streamlined curvature, and under the light, they are as translucent as jade.

At the center of the fan blade is a bright red five-pointed star relief.

There was no buzzing sound as expected.

If the fan blades hadn't instantly transformed into a bluish-green phantom, no one would have even known that it had been activated.

Lin Xi casually picked up Zhao Dagang's enamel mug, filled it to the brim with water, and gently placed it on top of the fan running at full speed.

Hundreds of eyes in the room were fixed on that glass of water.

The water was as still as a mirror, without even a ripple.

Five meters away, on the wall hung a production plan that had previously looked dejected.

Like a flag fluttering in the wind, it cheers with a "whoosh".

Still as a virgin, swift as a rabbit.

Old Zhang suddenly covered his face and burst into tears.

There was a release of pent-up frustration in that cry.

These people who had built missiles had been ground down and rubbed in the mud by life for far too long.

I've almost forgotten that these hands of mine could once reach for the stars.

Zhao Dagang also wiped away his tears, turned to look at Lin Xi, his eyes filled with fervor.

"Manager Lin..."

"Don't cry."

Lin Xi picked up the glass of water and drank it all in one gulp. "Save your energy for work."

He walked to the window and looked at the sky outside, which was gradually turning a pale white.

Hongfeng Factory is back in business.

With this mold, with this group of master craftsmen who have regained their dignity, and with Shanghai's well-established chemical supply chain...

The industrial monster envisioned as having "the brain of Northwest China's R&D and the body of coastal manufacturing" has finally opened its first eye.

"Xiao Wang," Lin Xi called out without turning her head.

Wang Weidong quickly crawled out:

"Brother Lin... what are your orders?"

"Call the Foreign Trade Bureau and notify the customs."

Lin Xi slammed the empty teacup down on the windowsill with a loud thud.

"Ten days later, the first batch of 10 Red Star fans were shipped to the Shiliupu Wharf."

"Tell the people of the United States that their life-saving medicine has arrived."

Wang Weidong looked at that tall, straight figure in the morning light.

In a daze, it felt like it wasn't about doing business, but rather about conquering the world.

"yes!"

......

Hongfeng Machinery Factory, Factory Director's Office.

Zhao Dagang, like a nouveau riche, kept muttering to himself:

"Manager Lin, we've struck it rich this time! We've really struck it rich!"

"Once the money arrives, I'll slaughter two pigs first! The meat will be distributed throughout the factory! It has to be pork belly!"

"After we pay the back wages, we also need to make everyone new work uniforms, the kind made of polyester!"

Lin Xi looked at Zhao Dagang's excited, flushed face and didn't respond to the "pig slaughtering" comment.

He walked up to the faded map of China and tapped it twice with his finger.

"Director Zhao, are two pigs enough to satisfy you?"

"US dollars are for spending, not for saving."

Lin Xi turned around, her eyes sharp.

"Fans are just the beginning; we'll use the money we make from fans to do bigger things!"

"Upgrade equipment! Strengthen technological research and development!"

Lin Xi pointed to the brightly lit workshop outside the window.

"Don't let the skills of these master craftsmen go to waste."

"The feel of making missile tail fins, the extreme sensitivity to tolerances—we must preserve those."

"Manager Lin, will we... also manufacture missiles in the future?"

Zhao Dagang asked tentatively, his voice trembling.

"No, we make more money building things than missiles, and they require even greater precision."

A glimmer of hope for 2025 flashed in Lin Xi's eyes.

"Precision machine tools, compressors, car engines, and even... components for wafer lithography machines."

"When that day comes, Hongfeng Factory will no longer be a dilapidated factory on the verge of bankruptcy, but the jewel in the crown of China's entire industry."

"Back then, let alone pork belly, I'd make your workers drive cars to work."

Zhao Dagang took a deep breath, abruptly threw the cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out, his eyes reddening as he stood ramrod straight.

"Manager Lin, please stop talking." Zhao Dagang's voice was hoarse.

"This pancake is too big, but I, Zhao Dagang..."

"have eaten!"

"From now on, these 800-plus people at Hongfeng Factory are in your hands!"