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

Director Zhang stood frozen in place, his gaze sweeping back and forth between the blueprints and Lin Jiaoyue three times. His Adam's apple bobbed twice, but he couldn't utter a single word.

He suddenly turned around, paced around the desk twice, his leather shoes creaking on the wooden floor, and then abruptly stopped. He rolled up the blueprints, carefully stuffed them into the inner pocket of his Zhongshan suit, and pressed them firmly through the fabric twice afterward.

"Alright, the negative control group..."

As Director Zhang pressed his chest, he muttered these words to himself, then suddenly slapped his thigh with a sharp crack.

"I see now. You think it's too slow to do ideological work with your subordinates one by one, so you're going to pick the toughest nut to crack and make an example of them!"

His eyes narrowed upwards as he began counting on his fingers the troublesome individuals within the steel system.

"When it comes to bad temper, seniority, and an absolute refusal to listen to advice..."

Director Zhang stroked the stubble that had just sprouted on his chin, and pursed his lips slightly.

"There really is such a person. Comrade Wang Geng from the Iron and Steel Research Institute. This old man apprenticed under foreign masters at the Hanyang Ironworks. He was convinced of one principle his whole life—steelmaking must be done in an open-hearth furnace, with a slow, gentle heat. A single batch of material could take more than ten hours to simmer. If you went to him at that time and mentioned any new technology or faster methods, he would really dare to grab a pair of fire tongs and kick you out of the workshop."

"Then it's him."

Lin Jiaoyue rested her elbows on the edge of the table, her fingertips pinching the handle of the enamel mug. She lowered her head and blew into the mug to disperse the tea leaves floating on the surface.

"Director, then I'll trouble you to make this trip and invite this Mr. Wang to our Institute 909. Don't say much, just tell him that I've come across something that could boost the nation's steel production several times over, and we'd like him to come over... and give us some guidance."

"please?"

Director Zhang's voice suddenly rose an octave, then he sighed helplessly.

"Even if I found a sedan chair carried by eight men, that stubborn donkey might not agree to get on. Even the head of the main hospital would have to take a detour when he sees him."

He picked up the now-cold tea on the table and took a big gulp.

"I'll do my best to handle it. At worst, I'll go to the main hospital entrance every day for the next few days and wait for him."

"It's not about trying our best, it's about getting them here."

Lin Jiaoyue placed the teacup back on the table, the bottom of the cup tapping against the glass countertop with a soft "tap".

She raised her head, her gaze passing over the table and landing directly on Director Zhang.

"Furthermore, once he arrives, don't give him any honorary titles; just put a sign that says 'technical consultant.' Let him wander around the workshop as he pleases, and let him nitpick and criticize as he pleases. If you can bring along all his prized apprentices and their associates, that would be even better. We're not afraid of having too many people; we're just afraid of not having enough to look good."

Director Zhang, who had just sat down, paused again. He stared at Lin Jiaoyue for a full five seconds, then pointed at her twice with his finger before speaking:

"You little rascal...you're more cunning than those honeycomb briquettes sold at Qianmen Tower! You're not just inviting people to watch a show, you're trying to wipe out the whole master and apprentice! You want these old fogies to watch as their lifelong dedication to open-hearth steelmaking is crushed to dust by a few pieces of paper, right?"

"Director, what are you saying?"

Lin Jiaoyue leaned back in her chair and casually smoothed out the wrinkles on the hem of her dress.

"I'm genuinely here for the exchange of new technologies. The experience of the older generation is invaluable. Truth always becomes clearer through debate, doesn't it? Inviting these senior experts is mainly to help us inexperienced young people fill in the gaps in our knowledge and prevent us from going astray."

She spoke politely, but the smile on her lips was impossible to suppress.

Seeing her confident and fearless demeanor, Director Zhang's last bit of hesitation vanished. Having worked with this young woman for so long, he had a good grasp of her temperament. Why waste time explaining theories and holding mobilization meetings to each factory when it was far less effective than directly confronting the biggest "troublemaker" and slapping them in the face?

Once this hardest, oldest bone is smashed to pieces in full view of everyone, the discontented voices below will instantly disappear completely.

"Alright! Leave this to me!" Director Zhang braced his hands on the edge of the table. "I'll take care of bringing the man here! As for the workshop, I'll immediately issue the order to vacate the best one in Institute 909 for you! And those fitters and welders, take whichever one you like!"

At this point, he suddenly leaned forward, his voice extremely low, as if afraid of disturbing something:

"But tell me the truth... what you just said about converter oxygen steelmaking, can it really increase our output... by five times?"

Lin Jiaoyue didn't answer immediately. She picked up the pencil on the table and twirled it between her fingers.

"Five times is the limit under ideal conditions." Her tone was calm and even.

"Once we get to the workshop, we'll need time to figure out the equipment, and the workers will have to learn from scratch. So, to be on the safe side..." She looked up and met Director Zhang's gaze, "Doubling the price is the bare minimum."

"three times……"

Director Zhang stared intently at the pencil in her hand, then suddenly gasped for breath, coughing twice from the force of the breath.

He coughed until his face was red, but he didn't bother to drink water. Even if it's only three times! If all that extra steel were piled up, how huge would that be?

Those are the lifeblood of building cannons, tanks, and laying railway tracks! He dared not think any further, only feeling the blood vessels on both sides of his temples throbbing, and his eardrums buzzing.

"You stay here and don't go anywhere!"

Director Zhang grabbed the military cap from the corner of the table and slammed it over his head. The sudden movement knocked over the ink bottle on the corner of the table.

"I'll go to the Central Military Commission compound right now to get the approval! Give me a list of the materials you need, and I have to get the person into the institute within three days!"

Before he could finish speaking, he was already at the door. He yanked the door open, slamming it against the wall with a bang, then it bounced back, half-closed, and the sound of hurried leather shoes faded into the distance in the corridor.

The room was completely quiet.

Lin Jiaoyue didn't rush to move. She stared at the half-open door for a while before slowly picking up her cup and drinking the remaining, now-cold tea. She pulled her military satchel to her side, took out a stack of yellowed draft paper, and gripped the Zhonghua brand pencil tightly.

The pen tip hovered above the paper for about ten seconds.

She didn't simply copy the massive machines of later generations, often weighing hundreds of tons; the current industrial base simply couldn't build such large furnaces. She needed to first build a small, three-to-five-ton test converter to explore the possibilities. The pen finally fell, drawing a clean outline.