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

New Year's Day.

The snow in the Northwest Aerospace City had not yet melted completely, and the firecracker casings in the residential area were being blown by the wind and stuck to the base of the walls.

Occasionally, a few scattered firecrackers could be heard in the distance.

In Mr. Qian's small study, it was so quiet that only the scratching sound of a fountain pen gliding across the paper could be heard.

Lin Xi, wearing a thick navy blue sweater, sat at the somewhat old solid wood desk.

He almost never stopped using the Hero brand fountain pen.

On the yellowed draft paper, a series of complex partial differential equations were quickly written down, with arrows, parameters, and boundary conditions layered one on top of the other.

Mr. Qian, wearing a slightly worn-out coat, sat on a rattan chair to the side.

The old man held a cup of hot tea in his hands, his gaze fixed on the paper where Lin Xi had written.

Occasionally, he would pick up his cup and take a sip, without making a sound to disturb others.

On the table, bilingual (Chinese and English) documents, handwritten system engineering derivation lecture notes, and calculation diagrams for the attitude control of the manned spacecraft of Project 851 have been piled up into three thick stacks.

This is Lin Xi, the general manager of Hongxing Technology Group and the head of a Fortune 500 company that had just developed a five-axis linkage machine tool, on the first morning of the Spring Festival in 1985.

There were no drinking parties, no New Year's greetings, only endless homework problems.

I came every day from the first day of the Lunar New Year to the seventh.

In previous years, as soon as Lin Xi entered this study to start his Spring Festival tutoring, the live broadcast room in his mind would be filled with wailing.

The comments section was flooded with messages like, "Help, it's like reading gibberish again!"

Some people complain, "Why torture each other during the Lunar New Year?"

Many liberal arts students will complain, "I don't understand aerodynamics, I'm requesting to unsubscribe for three minutes," and "Liberal arts students are defeated, science students please offer incense."

But this year is different.

The live stream room was extremely quiet.

There were no jokes or banter, no jokes that flooded the screen.

Occasionally, a few comments would appear, all of which were dense academic discussions and key screenshots.

[Reporting to the Aircraft Design major at Northwestern Polytechnical University. The aerodynamic redundancy equations that Lin Shen is currently writing perfectly align with the core logic of our third-year textbook. It turns out that the foundation for this algorithm was laid as early as 85.]

[Stop the small talk, everyone, take a screenshot! The oscillation tolerance range of the control system that Qian Xuesen just pointed out is the cornerstone of the entire artificial satellite orbit-changing algorithm. Textbooks only have the formula, but here is the original derivation!]

As a history student, I can't understand a single word of this screen full of code and symbols. But it's giving me the creeps.

I used to think Lin Shen was just getting a lecture during the Spring Festival, but now I realize it was a national-level retreat.

Countless eyes on the other side of the screen, along with the young CEO in 1985, listened quietly to the teachings of the founder of China's aerospace industry with an almost reverent attitude.

During this "tutoring" process, Lin Xi never complained or said she was tired.

If your hands get frozen, put them next to the coal stove to warm them up.

When I get hungry, I just take a couple of bites of the cold white steamed buns on the plate with some pickled vegetables.

He memorized every system engineering concept and every complex aerodynamic separation calculation of the rocket fairing that Qian Xuesen mentioned.

Then, they verified and deduced the results repeatedly on paper.

......

On the evening of the seventh day, it was getting dark.

The dim streetlights shone on the snow, and the reflection of the snow light entered the study, casting a faint, cool hue on the windowsill.

Lin Xi finished writing the last stroke and gently pushed the page-long "Near-Earth Orbit Rendezvous and Docking Control Feedback System Model" to the center of the table.

Mr. Qian put down his thermos and reached for the piece of paper.

The only sound in the room was the faint crackling of burning coal.

The old man looked at each line one by one.

When he encounters a critical turning point in the parameters, he will tap his fingers lightly twice on the table.

Lin Xi sat very upright.

The hand holding the pen unconsciously tightened its grip a little.

Ten minutes later, Mr. Qian let out a long sigh of relief.

He took off his reading glasses, pulled a piece of velvet cloth from his pocket, and slowly wiped the lenses before quietly gazing at the young man in front of him.

five years.

From that young punk who spouted nonsense in the office while holding up blueprints for an electric fan, to the well-dressed CEO who leads China's technological advancements to new heights.

Lin Xi's cheeks were thinner, and her jawline was sharper.

The reckless sharpness in his eyes had faded, replaced by a deep, calm composure.

"Lin Xi."

The old man folded his glasses and placed them on the desk, his tone gentle yet unusually solemn.

Lin Xi immediately straightened her back:

"exist."

"Starting next year, we will no longer hold tutoring sessions during the Spring Festival."

Upon hearing this, Lin Xi's heart tightened, and she instinctively gripped the pen in her hand.

He thought he had made a big mistake in his deductions over the past few days, or that he had just been distracted and made a mistake, so he quickly looked up at the old man.

"Teacher, is there something I calculated wrong?"

"I can rebuild a model to determine the latency threshold for feedback..."

"It has nothing to do with the data."

Old Qian waved his hand to interrupt him, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening with his smile, his gaze revealing undisguised satisfaction.

The old man pointed to the mountain of draft paper on the table and slowly began to speak.

"These seven days of classes represent the most challenging system coordination project ever."

"I originally thought that you'd be lucky if you could understand half of it."

"But you not only listen, you understand it thoroughly."

Mr. Qian stood up, slowly walked to the bookshelf, and looked at the thick professional books that had accompanied him for decades.

"Your strategic planning in the overall layout of Hongxing Industry, as well as your vision in the Hongxing-2 rocket and manned spaceflight projects, are proving one thing to me."

The old man turned around and stared intently at Lin Xi.

"Your foundation is now completely solid."

"Your perspective has truly broadened."

Lin Xi's throat tightened, and she didn't respond for a moment.

Mr. Qian's voice was not loud, but each sentence was heavier than the last.

"Red Star is now a massive fleet, and Project 851 is an even more complex national project involving countless details."

"You have fully grasped the theoretical framework that I was able to teach you."

"There are no ready-made textbooks or foreign references for the road ahead."

"You'll have to go and pave it yourself."

Mr. Qian walked up to Lin Xi, his voice becoming deep and powerful:

"This tutoring session during the Spring Festival has now come to a complete end."

"Lin Xi".

"You've completed your apprenticeship."

Upon hearing the words "graduated from the master's program," Lin Xi's nose suddenly stung, and her eyes instantly reddened.

He lowered his head, placed his hands on his thighs, and bit his lip hard to keep himself from losing his composure.

The events of the past five years flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.

In the dilapidated workshop of the Red Star Service Center in 1980, the old man slammed his fist on the table, resolutely overcoming all objections;

In 1982, when he used the metaphysical theory of "Eastern Qi" to cover up his machine tool technology, the old man withstood enormous pressure and deflected countless attacks for him.

And then there's Xiao Mo, the bodyguard transferred from the General Staff to be with him through thick and thin...

Without the encouragement and guidance in this small study, and without the support of this old man like Mount Tai, he, a young man relying on future knowledge, would have long been ground to dust by the harsh winds and sands of this era.

Those days during the Spring Festival when I was forced to sit at my desk calculating until my head was spinning, my frozen fingers warmed by the coal stove, and the cold white steamed buns I swallowed with pickled vegetables...

At this moment, it all transformed into the most profound and cherished source of strength in my life.