Siheyuan (traditional courtyard house): Starting with the Korean War, returning home to take charge

That winter in Beijing was dry and cold.

The wind felt like knives on my face, seeping in from my collar and chilling me all the way down my spine.

He Yuzhu stood at the entrance of the industrial department, glancing up at the drab three-story building. The windows were narrow and long, each windowsill holding a potted plant that was nearly frozen to death—its leaves drooping, the soil dried out. People came and went, wearing thick cotton-padded coats, their necks hunched, their breath escaping in a hurry, their white breath dissipating in an instant.

Ma Yuejin followed behind him, clutching the stack of test reports tightly until his knuckles turned white. He had specially changed into a new cotton-padded coat today, a navy blue one with a high collar that covered half of his face. But it couldn't hide the sweat on his face—a fine layer of sweat on his forehead despite the cold weather.

"Dean," he swallowed, "I'm a little nervous."

He Yuzhu did not turn around.

"What's there to be nervous about?"

"There are so many experts, what if they stump me..."

"Just tell me honestly that you don't know," He Yuzhu said, pushing open the door. "It's not like I'm sending you to fight a war."

It wasn't much warmer inside than outside. The corridor was long and dark, with dim yellow light bulbs that made people's faces look as if they were covered in a layer of dust. After walking a few dozen steps and turning a corner, you could see the door to the conference room. The door was open, and quite a few people were already sitting inside.

He Yuzhu went inside and looked around.

Seven or eight people sat around the long table; some wore glasses, some had gray hair, and some were flipping through notebooks. A few young people sat on the chairs against the wall, presumably there to observe the proceedings. He Yuzhu found a seat, and Ma Yuejin sat next to him, placing the stack of reports on the table—neatly and aligning the corners with his hand.

More and more people.

Around nine o'clock, a tall, thin man walked in, wearing a Zhongshan suit, his face expressionless. He sat down in the main seat and nodded to the person next to him.

"Let's begin."

The meeting was chaired by a section chief surnamed Zhou, who spoke slowly and deliberately. He read out the agenda and glanced at He Yuzhu.

"Comrade He Yuzhu, you should report first."

He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the front of the blackboard. He hung up the structural diagram of the internal combustion engine, turned around, and looked at the people below.

"Experts, this is our diesel internal combustion engine project. The power output is 1,500 horsepower."

People below were whispering among themselves.

He Yuzhu ignored him and began to speak. He went on to explain the cylinder block material, piston design, fuel injection system, combustion chamber structure, and so on. After speaking for about twenty minutes, he put down the chalk.

"That's the general situation. Comrade Ma Yuejin will introduce the specific data to everyone."

Ma Yuejin stood up.

My legs feel a little weak.

He stepped forward, opened the stack of reports, and began reading the numbers. One thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four, one thousand five. Torque, fuel consumption, thermal efficiency, durability testing.

Halfway through the reading, someone raised their hand.

Ma Yuejin stopped.

"Excuse me."

The person who raised his hand was a middle-aged man with glasses, a round face, and neatly combed hair. He pushed up his glasses, slammed the report on the table with a "thud".

"Comrade Xiao Ma, may I ask a layman's question?" He smiled, "Your machine has run for a thousand hours, right?"

Ma Yuejin nodded.

The man closed the report and pushed it onto the corner of the table.

"A thousand hours? I have an old engineer who judges internal combustion engines by two numbers—eight thousand hours without major problems is considered passing; ten thousand hours is considered usable. Your one thousand hours..." He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone present understood what he meant.

—Your stuff is pretty much like a laboratory toy.

Ma Yuejin's face flushed red. He stood there, still clutching the report in his hand, his knuckles white.

He Yuzhu stood up.

"Engineer Liu is right, you really can't tell anything from a thousand hours."

Mr. Liu was taken aback, not expecting the other party to agree with him.

He Yuzhu didn't look at him, but nodded to Ma Yuejin.

"Yesterday's."

Ma Yuejin realized what was happening and pulled out the oil-stained papers from the bottom of the report. He walked over to Engineer Liu and slammed the papers down on his desk.

"Engineer Liu, he worked through the night yesterday. Six hours at full capacity, and not a single data point was changed. Do you think that kind of dedication matches your 'eight thousand hours' work record?"

Engineer Liu picked up the papers and glanced at them.

His expression changed.

He looked at those papers over and over again several times without saying a word.

Director Zhou coughed beside him.

"Mr. Liu, is there any other problem?"

Engineer Liu shook his head and returned the papers.

"That's all."

The afternoon test is scheduled for 3 p.m.

A brand-new internal combustion engine was carried into the testing workshop and placed on a test bench. Several workers surrounded it, checking the wiring and tightening bolts. The wrench struck the bolts, making a crisp "clang" sound.

He Yuzhu stood to the side, staring at the instruments.

Ma Yuejin squatted on the ground, his palms sweaty. He wiped them on his pants, then wiped them again.

The experts stood at the back, craning their necks to see.

The operator stood beside the starter lever and glanced at Director Zhou. Director Zhou nodded.

"start."

The moment the lever was pressed down, the workshop was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

One second. Two seconds.

"boom--"

A plume of black smoke suddenly billowed from the exhaust pipe, as if the sleeping steel behemoth had been kicked awake, roaring and shaking violently. The sound grew louder and louder, making ears ring and causing the pebbles on the ground to jump.

The flywheel started spinning. It spun faster and faster.

The needle on the pressure gauge started to climb.

One hundred, two hundred, three hundred...

When they reached 1,000, an expert took a step forward.

After climbing to 1200 meters, more people joined the push.

Climb to 1500—

The pointer wobbled and jerked there.

Ma Yuejin's heart was in his throat. Every time the needle twitched, his eyelids twitched. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms; it hurt, but he didn't care.

at last.

The pointer seemed to be welded in place, firmly fixed at 1500.

Ma Yuejin then realized that his back was soaked with cold sweat.

The machine continued to run. The sound was steady, the vibration was within the normal range, and the smoke coming out of the exhaust pipe was light gray, which dissipated after a while.

One hour.

two hours.

three hours.

Around four o'clock, Director Zhou glanced at his watch and nodded to the operator.

"It's stopped."

The operator pulled the switch. The machine emitted a low rumble, slowly slowed down, and finally stopped.

The workshop suddenly fell silent. So quiet that you could hear your own heartbeat and the crackling of coal burning in the distant furnace.

The experts looked at each other, but no one spoke.

Director Zhou walked up to the internal combustion engine and reached out to touch the cylinder block. He touched it once, didn't pull his hand away, and touched it again.

Then he took off his gloves and placed his palm directly on the cylinder.

With a "sizzle" sound.

A burnt smell of pork skin filled everyone's noses—the skin on his palm had been burned off.

But instead of pulling his hand away, he grinned.

"Hot as fire!" He turned to look at He Yuzhu. "Hot as fire is good! It means you've put in all your effort! Comrade He Yuzhu, congratulations, you've succeeded!"

He Yuzhu nodded.

"Thanks."

Ma Yuejin stood next to him, his legs went weak, and he had to lean against the wall to steady himself.

That evening, the high-ranking leader arrived.

He walked in through the door, and everyone in the room stood up. He waved for everyone to sit down, then walked over to the internal combustion engine and walked around it.

"This thing really costs 1,500?"

He Yuzhu nodded.

"Just tested, six hours, full load."

The top leader reached out and touched the cylinder body—this time he was wearing leather gloves—and then looked at the instruments.

"Okay," he said. "Okay."

He turned around and looked at He Yuzhu.

Do you know what this thing is used for?

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"Heavy machinery, tractors, and..."

The top leader smiled.

"Tanks. Our own tanks."

He Yuzhu's hand tightened slightly.

The high-ranking leader walked over and patted him on the shoulder.

"Your lab will have an even heavier workload from now on. Tank engines and armor materials will all depend on you."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"clear."

The top leader has left.

He Yuzhu stood there, looking at the internal combustion engine. The cylinder block was still dissipating heat, making a soft "clicking" sound.

One thousand and five.

tank.

He closed his eyes. But what appeared before him was a completely different scene—the Chosin Reservoir at minus forty degrees Celsius, his comrades lying prone in the snow, their rifle bolts stuck, their legs immobile, just lying there, never to rise again. He remembered those impenetrable iron shells, the clanging sound of shells hitting them, and his comrades clutching his hand as they died, their mouths frozen shut, but their eyes still asking: "Zhu Zi, when will our tanks… be built?"

He Yuzhu opened his eyes.

Before me is this scorching hot machine.

He clenched his fists.

It was almost midnight when I got back to the office.

He Yuzhu closed the door and brought up the system interface.

[Heavy Tank Design Blueprints (1956 Adapted Version)]

[Includes: hull structure, transmission system, suspension system, turret design, and armor layout]

[Redeemable Points: 1,000,000]

He looked at the line of text and tapped it.

[Redeem successful. Points consumed: 1,000,000]

Current total points: 155,330,000 - 1,000,000 = 154,330,000 points

He took out the stack of blueprints from the system space—a thick pile, more than five hundred pages. The cover was printed with the words "Heavy Tank Design Blueprints," and below it was a line of smaller print: "1956 Edition, Do Not Distribute."

He placed the drawings on the table and turned to the first page.

Hull structure. Transmission system. Suspension system. Turret design. Armor layout.

Turn the pages one by one.

The voice in my head started again.

Side Quest: Tank Soul Activated

[Mission Objective: To complete the prototype production within one year]

[Mission Reward: +6,000,000 points]

He closed the interface.

Outside the window, the Beijing night was pitch black. Nothing could be seen, but a bright red sun rose in the east, shining upon us and guiding us.

But he knew the blueprints were lying on the table.

The journey must continue.