1950s: After transmigrating into a capitalist, I relied on military industry to achieve a comeback.

Director Zhang opened his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbed, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Suddenly, an image flashed through his mind of those old experts on the Gobi Desert in Northwest China, coughing up blood but still rushing towards the testing platform.

Lin Jiaoyue, observing his expression, knew the time was right. She opened her military satchel, pulled out three neatly folded sheets of paper, and pushed them to the center of the desk.

"So, before building the next behemoth, we need to recoup the nation's losses first."

Director Zhang hesitated before reaching for the blueprints and flipping to the first page.

He only glanced at the title before his eyebrows furrowed into a tight knot.

"Converter... oxygen blowing steelmaking?" he murmured, looking up with a puzzled expression. "This... method of steelmaking?"

He patiently flipped to the second page, his expression becoming even stranger.

"A small centrifugal water pump?"

When he turned to the third page and saw the exquisite outline drawing, Director Zhang's eyes twitched twice.

"Panda brand... a high-end vacuum tube radio?"

He slammed the blueprints on the table, leaned back abruptly, and the bamboo rattan chair creaked painfully. His voice was distorted, filled with a mixture of anger and frustration:

"No way... what... my Chief Engineer Lin! The bosses are practically begging you to build a national treasure, and you come back from your vacation and this is what you show me? Steelmaking? Pumping? Radios?!"

He stood up and paced restlessly back and forth behind his desk.

"This...this is ridiculous! This is the job of the director of the civilian factory office, why should you worry about it..."

"Director Zhang, please don't be in such a hurry to turn around." Lin Jiaoyue remained seated, without even changing her posture. "What do you think is the thing we lack most right now, that's why we're being held by the throat by foreigners?"

"Talent! Technology! Precision machine tools!" Director Zhang blurted out without thinking.

"No." Lin Jiaoyue shook her head and held up three fingers.

"What we lack most is enough steel that is strong enough; water that can make the land produce more grain and feed the people; and powerful products that can extract large sums of money from foreigners and bring back foreign exchange. These three things are the bricks that support the foundation of an industrial power."

She leaned forward slightly, pressing her fingertips heavily on the steelmaking blueprint:

"Once this 'converter oxygen blowing steelmaking method' is implemented, our existing steel production can be maintained at our current maximum capacity without adding personnel or expanding facilities..."

She paused deliberately:

"The price will increase at least fivefold. Moreover, all the steel produced will be of a special grade, high quality."

Five times...

These three words, like three muffled thunderclaps, exploded right next to Director Zhang's ears.

His pacing suddenly faltered, and he abruptly stopped, his body stiffening. His perpetually bloodshot eyes were fixed on Lin Jiaoyue's fingers as she pressed the blueprint.

I didn't realize it at first!

When the weight of those two words finally came to mind, it felt like there was a wad of dry cotton stuck in my throat. I swallowed twice, and even my breathing paused for a moment.

Five times the amount of steel?

Having worked in the military industry for so many years, he knew all too well the weight of those three words. It meant that materials that were originally only enough to make iron pots could now be transformed into endless railway tracks; it meant that tractors could be driven on the ground, and tank tracks could continuously roll off the assembly line!

Lin Jiaoyue didn't give him a chance to catch his breath, and pushed the second drawing forward:

"With steel, we can mass-produce these water pumps. With enough water in the fields, grain yields can double. When the people are well-fed, the nation's heart can beat steadily."

Her fingertips finally landed on the diagram of the radio:

"As for this radio, I designed it specifically for the overseas market. Its signal-to-noise ratio and craftsmanship far surpass the equipment that foreigners are currently using. As long as we can manufacture and sell it, a large amount of foreign exchange will flow in. With foreign exchange, why would we have to worry about not being able to buy precision machine tools?"

Lin Jiaoyue withdrew her hand and leaned back in her chair.

"Director Zhang, the foundation is all mud; how can a 10,000-ton destroyer be built on it?"

Her voice was soft, yet it carried an undeniable weight.

"First, we need to replenish the blood supply of basic industries like steelmaking and machinery. Once we have our own weapons and supplies, then we can talk about the 'Dongfeng-2' without having to sacrifice the lives of our older generation."

A deathly silence fell over the office.

Only the old mechanical clock on the wall ticked away.

Director Zhang stood behind the table, staring at the few thin pieces of paper. He subconsciously reached for the cigarette pack in his pocket, his hand trembling so badly that the cigarettes fell onto the table, but he forgot to pick them up.

His mind was a complete mess. On one hand, there was the eager gaze of the leaders of the Central Military Commission, and on the other hand, there were the red-rimmed eyes of the experts on the Gobi Desert in the Northwest. Finally, his mind settled on the image of Minister Wang of the Logistics Department trembling with heartache when he saw the cost of the missile.

Yes... If you can make it but can't afford to use it, what's the difference between it and a clay Buddha?

"Heal first...then attack..." He repeated these words over and over three times in a hoarse voice.

With each recitation, the light in his eyes grew brighter.

"Snapped!"

Director Zhang slammed his hand on the desk, causing a few drops of water from his enamel mug to splash onto the back of his hand, but he didn't even notice. The hesitation on his face vanished, replaced by an almost fanatical excitement.

"Let's get this done! Go shove the hell up the chain of command and push for progress! I, Old Zhang, know exactly what I'm doing!"

He grabbed the three blueprints and pulled them close to him, as if they were his lifeblood.

"If you can increase steel production fivefold, I, Old Zhang, would kneel down at the gate of the Central Military Commission today and beg for approval, and I'll pave the way for you!"

He looked at Lin Jiaoyue with red eyes:

"Tell me! What are your conditions? Which steel mill do you need to cooperate with? How many people do you need?"

Seeing his energetic appearance, Lin Jiaoyue finally managed a lively smile.

The toughest hurdle has been overcome.

"I need the best craftsmen in Institute 909, and a completely secret, independent testing workshop."

She paused, picked up her teacup to moisten her throat, and deliberately drew out her words.

"In addition, you need to go into the steel system and find me a senior expert. Ideally, the most senior, the worst-tempered, and the most stubborn old-fashioned person. Bring him here as my 'negative control group'."

"A negative control group?" Director Zhang was stunned, his hands pausing. "What are you trying to achieve? Bring back a living ancestor to cause you trouble?"

Lin Jiaoyue held the hot tea, blinked, and a fox-like cunning flashed in her clear almond eyes.

"That's right. Only by breaking the hardest and most stubborn stone can the golden light that bursts out from inside shut up all those who are not convinced."