I started with a ship full of max-level veterans, and I'm just a complete noob.

Jiang Ming sat on the iron-framed bed in the dormitory, his knees resting on a piece of plywood as a table, the nib of his pen hovering above the letter paper, hesitant to put it down.

The honeycomb briquettes in the stove burned white, filling half the room with a dry, burnt smell.

Qian Xuesen's letter was under my pillow. It was a thin sheet of paper with only a few lines of text, but it carried more weight than the three pipes in Workshop No. 1 combined.

He has already used up four sheets of paper writing.

The first draft was too detailed, even including the 1.1% cerium oxide ratio. I realized it was wrong as soon as I put pen to paper and tore it up on the spot.

The second draft was too empty, full of polite phrases like "everything went smoothly" and "thank you for your concern, teacher," making it sound like a slacker trying to appease the professor, which was even worse.

In his third draft, he wanted to take an academic approach and wrote half a page of the fluid dynamics derivation of the seven-degree chamfer. However, halfway through, he suddenly realized that this angle itself was a core parameter of military vacuum tubes.

Even without mentioning the pipe model, someone in the know can deduce the application from this data.

Or not.

Jiang Ming screwed on the pen cap, leaned back against the wall, and stared blankly at the crack in the ceiling for a long while.

He mentally reviewed everything he could say.

Vacuum system modification is possible.

Regarding rare earth cathode materials, you can mention it, but you can't give specific proportions.

Testing power supply stability can be done using a simple method like filtering with discarded capacitors, which isn't exactly a secret.

As for psychic abilities, that's a minefield under the Ironclad Rule Three; don't even think about it.

He unscrewed the pen cap again and began writing on the last clean sheet of paper.

Mr. Qian's report: The students have been working in the factory for several months and have encountered some basic problems in the areas of vacuum systems and cathode materials.

Firstly, after the rotary vane pump has been running for a long time, the aging of the seals has led to a decrease in the ultimate vacuum. Students have tried to replace the original sealing material with fluororubber and use liquid nitrogen cold traps as an aid, which has achieved initial improvement.

Secondly, regarding the sintering temperature window after trace doping of rare earth oxides, the students made a preliminary calculation based on the thermodynamic phase transition formula in the teacher's handout and found that there is a nonlinear relationship between the holding time and the lattice stability. The optimal curve is still being explored.

Third, the power supply of the test bench is severely affected by the load interference in the factory area. The students used an LC filter network and differential measurement to temporarily solve the problem, but it is still insufficient to suppress high-frequency ripple.

If there are any errors in the above three points, please correct them. Respectfully submitted by student Jiang Ming.

After writing the last word, Jiang Ming spread the letter on a plywood board to dry the ink, and then read it three more times from beginning to end.

There was no tube model, no emission current data, no military specifications, no specific ratio, and no words that could be associated with a top-secret mission of the Commission of Science, Technology and Industry for National Defense.

But anyone in the know can tell that he's doing something serious, and it's not an easy task.

Jiang Ming folded the letter and put it into a kraft paper envelope. He changed into a coat that was free of oil stains and headed towards the administration building with the letter in his hand.

The door to Director Zhang's office was ajar, and the smell of smoke drifted out from the crack.

Jiang Ming knocked on the door twice, and Director Zhang's voice came from inside.

"Come in."

Pushing open the door, I saw Director Wang sitting in an old rattan chair by the window, with several documents spread out on the coffee table in front of him.

Jiang Ming handed over the envelope.

"Factory Manager, this is my reply to Mr. Qian. Please review it with Director Wang and make sure there are no issues with confidentiality before sending it out."

Factory Director Zhang took the envelope, but didn't open it immediately; he glanced at him first.

"Do you think there's a problem?"

"I don't think so, but I don't dare to gamble."

Jiang Ming stood in front of the table and confessed honestly.

"Mr. Qian is my teacher. I trust him, and he trusts me. But the closer the relationship, the less we should let our guard down just because we trust each other."

Director Wang leaned up from the rattan chair, took the envelope, opened it, and read it carefully twice.

After reading it, he handed the letter back to Jiang Ming, his expression relaxing slightly.

"It's written with restraint and intelligence."

Director Wang picked up his teacup, took a sip, and put it down with a soft tapping sound as the bottom of the cup hit the coffee table.

"You only mentioned the direction and basic derivation, without providing any parameters that can be directly reproduced. Even if this letter is intercepted, the complete picture cannot be pieced together."

Factory Director Zhang stubbed out his cigarette in the tin ashtray and nodded.

"Okay, trust me to sign and release it. Send it through the factory's confidential office; it's safer than the regular post office."

Jiang Ming put away the envelope and turned to leave, but Director Zhang called him back.

"Xiao Jiang, at 2 PM, Workshop No. 1 will conduct the final inspection. You submitted the report from the Science and Technology Commission last night. Today, complete the final procedure for the pipes."

"clear."

At 2:00 PM sharp, the metal door of Workshop No. 1 was locked from the inside.

Wu Hanzhang stood in front of the control panel, wearing a faded white lab coat, a red access pass pinned to his chest, and a factory inspection checklist laid out in front of him.

Three electron tubes were neatly arranged in a white porcelain dish, their casings wiped spotless with a dry cotton cloth, gleaming with a cool gray metallic luster under the incandescent light.

Next to it are three floating shockproof boxes, with the lids open to reveal the internal rubber pads and U-shaped spring sheets.

Wearing white gloves, Xiao Zhao held the leak detector probe and lay on the operating table, scanning the sealing wire of pipe A01 inch by inch.

"Vacuum maintained normally, no leak detection response."

Jiang Ming stood behind, holding a pencil and checking off each item on the list.

"Emitting current core".

Da Liu pulled down the switch on the test bench, and the voltage regulator and filter started humming. The pointer of the microammeter swayed for a moment and then stopped steadily at 275 microamps.

"A01, 275, qualified."

Xiao Zhao wrote down the data in the ledger and then switched to tube A02.

The process is the same, and the readings are also the same.

"A02, 275, qualified."

After tube A03 was put into operation, the pointer eventually stopped at 268 microamps, with fluctuations of less than plus or minus one.

"Jia 03, 268, smallest fluctuation range, qualified."

Wu Hanzhang took the production list, signed his name at the bottom, and stamped it with the top-secret number of Workshop No. 1.

"What about pin insulation?"

Xiao Zhao picked up the megohmmeter and connected the probe to the pin lead.

"Megaohm level, no leakage current."

Jiang Ming walked to the shockproof box and gently placed the No. 01 tube vertically into the groove of the rubber pad, making sure the tube feet were facing down and the four sets of U-shaped spring sheets were evenly stressed.

He patted the side of the outer casing with his palm, and the tube wobbled slightly on the elastic system before returning to its original position.

"Correct posture, effective levitation."

After sealing the three pipes into the shockproof box one by one, Xiao Zhao put the copy of the ledger, the sintering curve record, and the operator's signature page into an individual kraft paper bag, tied it tightly with a red rope, and affixed an airtight strip.

Wu Hanzhang took out his personal seal and pressed it onto each of the three seals.

Old Sun stood beside the fitter's bench from beginning to end, his pipe tucked behind his waist, his arms crossed over his chest, without saying a word.

He watched as the lids of the three shockproof boxes were closed, as if he were watching his daughter, whom he had raised for decades, get married.

Jiang Ming walked over to Old Sun and lowered his voice.

"Master Sun, once the pipes reach the Northwest, they'll have to carry them themselves."

Old Sun snorted, pulled out his pipe, and put it in his mouth, but didn't light it.

"The springs in your shockproof box are made of the best steel; they won't break."

He paused, his voice hoarse.

"If it breaks, you can come and blame me, Old Sun, for being bad at cooking."

At six o'clock in the evening, the sound of car engines could be heard outside the factory gate.

A military green truck and a jeep were parked in front of the gatehouse. The truck bed was covered with tarpaulin, and two uniformed guards followed behind.

Factory Director Zhang personally led the security officer to the entrance, verified the escort team's letter of introduction and transfer order, and then led them into Workshop No. 1.

Three locked wooden crates were loaded onto the truck and secured to an iron frame in the middle of the cargo compartment.

Jiang Ming handed the handwritten transportation precautions and the retesting procedures upon arrival to the head of the escort team.

"No matter what bumps you encounter on the road, first check if the attitude markings on the outer wall of the box have shifted before you rush to open the box."

The escort team leader was in his thirties, with rough skin and sharp eyes. He took the documents and stuffed them into his inner breast pocket.

"Don't worry, we'll be even more careful than when seizing ammunition."

Jiang Ming took two steps back and stood at the workshop door watching the truck start.

A cloud of white smoke billowed from the exhaust pipe as the wheels rolled over the factory's concrete pavement and slowly drove toward the gate.

Wu Hanzhang carried his teacup to Jiang Ming's side, watching the truck's taillights gradually shrink.

"I'm gone."

Jiang Ming didn't say anything, but simply turned up his coat collar to block the cold wind from getting into his neck.

Just as the truck drove out of the factory gate, hurried footsteps came from the direction of the administration building.

The security guard jogged over with a telegram in his hand, his face grim, and rushed straight toward Director Wang.

Director Wang took the telegram, glanced at it under the light at the entrance of the gatehouse, and the deep lines at the corners of his mouth suddenly sank half an inch.

He folded the telegram and put it in his pocket, turned to look at the taillights of the truck that had disappeared into the night, and then glanced back at Jiang Ming.

"The disturbances in the Northwest suddenly intensified last night."