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

……

"Click".

The door, which had been closed for three days, was finally opened.

Sun Erga, who was eating a watermelon, was so startled that his hand trembled and the watermelon rind fell onto the back of his foot.

Everyone stood up instantly, not daring to breathe.

Lin Xi came out.

He had a stubble beard, sunken eyes, and his white shirt was wrinkled like dried plums.

But those eyes were frighteningly bright.

That kind of light is like a hungry wolf seeing meat, or a shark smelling blood.

"Manager Lin...?"

Wang Dapao cautiously approached.

"Are you...hungry? Shall I make you a bowl of noodles?"

Lin Xi didn't look at him, nor at anyone else.

He raised his head and took a deep breath of the hot, dusty air.

Then he slapped the drawing, covered with strange symbols and data, onto Wang Dapao's broad chest.

"Stop eating."

Lin Xi's voice was hoarse, yet it possessed an undeniable metallic quality.

"Go, pack your things."

Wang Dapao was stunned: "Go...go where?"

Lin Xi turned her head, her gaze passing over the low wall to the northwest corner of the base.

That's the direction of the Hongqi Motor Factory.

A once-glorious, now struggling to survive due to a failed attempt to convert its military equipment to civilian use.

"Bring your weapons and your money."

Lin Xi grinned, revealing a set of white teeth that looked particularly sinister on his haggard face.

"Let's go and cause trouble."

"Whose was it smashed?" Sun Erga asked instinctively.

"Smash a motor manufacturing company."

Lin Xi straightened his collar, the weariness in his eyes vanished, replaced by boundless ambition.

"And while you're at it, teach them."

"What is the true... driving force of China?"

......

Hongqi Micro Motor Factory, code name 702.

Two large, weathered iron gates were tightly shut, and armed sentries stood ramrod straight at the entrance.

Wang Dapao wiped the sweat from his neck.

Looking at the blazing sun overhead, then at Lin Xi standing in the shade smoking, he couldn't help but mutter:

"Manager, we've been standing here in the sun for half an hour already. This Factory Director Lao is really putting on airs!"

"They manufacture radar servo motors, which are used in the military industry."

Lin Xi gave a thumbs-up, then turned it upside down.

"And us? In their eyes, we're just small business owners who make electric fans, nouveau riche."

"So what if they're nouveau riche? They have US dollars!"

Wang Dapao patted his bulging briefcase, a testament to his immense confidence.

"To tech geeks, money is just paper."

Lin Xi exhaled a smoke ring, her eyes calm.

"We have to use a language they understand."

As they were talking, the small window on the iron gate opened.

"Come in, only two people can come in at a time."

The old gatekeeper shouted impatiently.

"No taking photos or touching anything in the workshop."

"If you damage the equipment, you couldn't afford to pay for it even if you sold your service company."

Wang Dapao glared, about to explode, but Lin Xi held him down.

The two walked through the factory area and arrived at a red brick workshop at the very back.

A middle-aged man wearing dark blue overalls was hunched over a machine tool, holding a micrometer, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.

Lao Zheng, the director of Factory 702, is also a well-known "electric motor fanatic" in Northwest China.

"Director Lao," Lin Xi called out.

Lao Zheng didn't look up, still staring at the rotor in his hand:

"Don't come any closer, just stand there."

"You have static electricity, don't damage my coil."

Wang Dapao was so angry his nose almost twisted.

Lin Xi smiled and stood five meters away:

"Director Lao, what do you think of my previous suggestion?"

"A suggestion?" Lao Zheng finally straightened up, wiped his hands with a black oilcloth, and turned around.

His eyes were cold, carrying the aloofness of a scholar and the arrogance of a craftsman.

"You mean, you want my factory, which makes servo motors for anti-ship missiles, to make razors for you?"

Lao Zheng seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world.

"Manager Lin, I heard you made some money at the Canton Fair."

"But having money doesn't mean you know technology."

"Miniature motors are one of the crown jewels of industry."

"We need to tackle high-precision compensation for radar; we don't have time to play house with you."

Lao Zheng casually grabbed a motor the size of a fingernail from the workbench and threw it over.

Lin Xi reached out and caught it.

"Here is the miniature motor you requested."

Lao Zheng's tone was disdainful.

"Ferrite magnet, maximum speed 2800 rpm, torque 0.5 N·m."

"This is the current limit in China. Making you a razor is like using a sledgehammer to crack a nut."

Lin Xi pinched the rough little thing and turned the bearing.

Raw and shaky.

This is the current "limit".

"Director Lao, what I need is the most advanced micro motor in the world."

Lin Xi casually tossed the ferrite motor aside.

"This thing isn't even fit to carry someone's shoes."

"How arrogant!" Lao Zheng sneered.

"The most advanced micro motors in the world use the latest rare-earth cobalt magnets, namely samarium cobalt magnets."

"That stuff is a strategically embargoed resource; we don't even have the formula domestically!"

"How do you compare? With your mouth?"

Even if it's just a makeshift solution, this is the only ferrite I can give you.

Lao Zheng gave him the order to leave.

"If you don't like it, turn left when you go out and look for the small factory run by the neighborhood committee."

"What if we had such a magnet?"

Lin Xi's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a needle piercing Lao Zheng's ear.

Lao Zheng stopped wiping his hands.

"What did you say?"

Lin Xi didn't waste any words and gave Wang Dapao a wink.

Wang Dapao stepped forward, took out a blueprint from his briefcase, and carefully laid it on the worktable.

Lao Zheng glanced at it casually.

His gaze was glued to the spot, as if it were glued on, and he couldn't pull it out.

"Stator diameter 12 millimeters..."

"Hollow cup winding..."

"These parameters..." Lao Zheng's hands began to tremble slightly.

"Nominal speed 12000 RPM?"

"18 Nm of stall torque?"

"Its volume has shrunk by half?"

He suddenly looked up and stared at Lin Xi.

Do you even understand basic physics?

"To achieve this magnetic flux in such a small volume, your magnet would have to be forged in Lao Tzu's alchemy furnace!"

"Ferrites can't do it! Neither can samarium-cobalt!"

Lao Zheng slammed the blueprints down with a deafening roar, "This is science fiction! It's utter nonsense!"

Despite the roar of a top engineer, Lin Xi remained calm and composed.

"Director Lao, theories are rigid, but people are flexible."

Lin Xi put her hand into her jacket pocket.

It was a small box wrapped with layers upon layers of insulating tape.

That was the recipe he used during his three-day seclusion, provided through the live stream.

A prototype machine was produced by Wang Yu using rudimentary laboratory methods.

It was ugly, it was rough.

But its heart is the third-generation rare-earth permanent magnet from 2025—

Neodymium iron boron.

"Cannon, connect to power."