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

On the day of the test, Lin Jianguo walked around the laboratory three times.

The lithography machine sat in the center of the cleanroom, its silver-white casing wrapped with sensor wires like an old tree covered in vines. He stood outside the glass window, staring at the silicon wafer inside, his palms sweaty.

Sun Xiaomei was adjusting the parameters. She would turn the knob once, glance at the screen, and turn it again. Beads of sweat streamed down her forehead, down her cheeks, and dripped onto her work clothes, leaving a small dark patch.

"Team Leader Lin, the light source is stable."

Lin Jianguo leaned closer to the screen. The curve was still jumping, but it was more stable than before.

"Wait a little longer."

I waited ten minutes. The curve flattened out completely.

Lin Jianguo took a breath and pressed the start button.

The machine started up. A buzzing sound, like a swarm of bees trapped in a glass jar. The silicon wafer moved slowly on the worktable, the light source flashing, etching tiny patterns onto it.

ten minutes.

twenty minutes.

At the thirty-fifth minute, the alarm suddenly went off.

"Drip—drip—drip—"

Sun Xiaomei's face turned pale: "The exposure level is too high! It's skyrocketing!"

Lin Jianguo rushed to the screen. The green line, which should have been straight, was climbing diagonally upwards. At this rate, the entire batch of silicon wafers would be scrapped in less than five minutes.

"What happened?"

"I don't know! There might be a problem with the feedback loop!"

Lin Jianguo's mind went blank for two seconds. Ninety nanometers—three months of hard work, all churning inside this machine.

He turned to look at Sun Xiaomei. She was staring at the screen, her finger hovering over the emergency stop button, trembling.

"Don't stop." Lin Jianguo's throat felt like it was stuffed with sand. "Manually intervene, push it down."

Sun Xiaomei paused for half a second, gritted her teeth, and withdrew her hand, starting to turn the manual knobs that she never usually touched. She turned one, glanced at the screen, and turned it again. The green line was still climbing, but it was climbing more slowly.

Lin Jianguo stared at the countdown on the wall. Sixteen minutes left.

"Keep the pressure on."

"It can't be pushed down any further! It's reached the bottom!"

Lin Jianguo rushed over and stood behind her: "Turn off the damper, tighten it by force!"

Sun Xiaomei paused. Turning off the damper would cause a short circuit if she twisted the switch too much.

She didn't say anything, but reached out and flipped the damping switch up, pressed the knob, and turned it little by little.

The green line has stopped.

It stopped at the critical value, trembling slightly, but wouldn't go any higher.

Lin Jianguo held his breath.

One minute.

Two minutes.

five minutes.

The machine hummed and then stopped.

Sun Xiaomei's hand was still on the knob, her whole arm trembling. She slowly released it, took a step back, leaned against the control panel, and gasped for breath.

Lin Jianguo didn't move. He stared at the green line on the screen that had finally fallen, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

"Go pick up the film."

Sun Xiaomei struggled to her feet and walked into the cleanroom. She took out the silicon wafer, placed it under the microscope, and peered at it closely.

Not moving at all.

Lin Jianguo couldn't wait any longer outside, so he pushed the door open and went in.

"How is it?"

Sun Xiaomei raised her head, her expression a mix of crying and laughing.

"It's done."

Lin Jianguo pushed her aside and moved closer to the microscope himself.

In the lens, the lines lay neatly aligned, uniform in width, with smooth edges. Ninety nanometers—it really was etched.

He straightened up, looked at the machine, at the silicon wafer, and at Sun Xiaomei's sweat-smeared face.

"Go and call the dean."

When He Yuzhu arrived, the laboratory was already packed with people.

Ma Yuejin squatted in front of the microscope for a long time, then stood up and nodded to him. Zhou Guoqiang was flipping through data beside him, muttering to himself as he did so. Several young people crowded at the back, craning their necks to look inside.

Lin Jianguo handed over the silicon wafer.

"Dean, please take a look."

He Yuzhu took it and squinted at it under the light for a while. The object was small, square, and with neatly cut edges. The patterns on it were invisible to the naked eye.

He didn't mention any specifications or performance. He just suddenly laughed, his voice a little hoarse: "Back when I was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, I cut my wrist and it was swollen. I thought, when will we be able to do it all by machine without people having to chop?"

He gently placed the silicon wafer back into Lin Jianguo's palm and patted the back of his hand.

"This thing is now a million times more precise than chopping vegetables. It's like cutting the hardest bone for our country."

The room was quiet for a few seconds.

Lin Jianguo gripped the silicon wafer, his Adam's apple bobbing again. He didn't speak, but simply held it up to the light and examined it closely.

Sun Xiaomei whispered from the side, "Dean, let's give it a name."

He Yuzhu thought for a moment.

"Star River One".

People started clapping. At first, it was sparse, but then it grew louder and louder, making the whole laboratory buzz.

He Yuzhu stood there, looking at those young faces, at the lithography machine, and at the silicon wafer held high.

He didn't speak.

The news spread faster than expected.

On the third day, the top leader's approval came down. It was a single sheet of paper with only two lines: "This is excellent. I hope you will continue your efforts and produce a practical chip as soon as possible. Report any necessary support immediately."

He Yuzhu looked at the paper twice, folded it, and put it in the drawer.

Director Qian also called.

"Xiao He, I heard you guys have developed a chip?"

He Yuzhu, holding the microphone, said, "It just came out; we still need to adjust it."

Director Qian laughed on the other end of the line: "What's there to adjust? Being able to etch 90 nanometers is a skill in itself. We have a few materials scientists here who'd like to come and take a look at your place, is that alright?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment and said, "Okay. Let's go."

Old Sun came in the evening.

He sat opposite He Yuzhu, lit a cigarette, but didn't smoke it; he just held it between his fingers.

"There's something I need to tell you."

He Yuzhu waited for him to continue.

Old Sun stubbed out his cigarette: "Foreign media have started reporting on it. They're saying China has developed a 90-nanometer chip, calling it a 'technological miracle.'"

He Yuzhu was taken aback: "Where did this rumor originate?"

Old Sun shook his head: "We're still investigating. But one thing is certain: someone leaked the information."

He stood up and walked to the window: "The National Security Bureau's meaning is that from now on, all information from your side must be reviewed before it can be released to the public. Media interviews are strictly prohibited, academic papers are strictly prohibited, and overseas exchanges are strictly prohibited."

He Yuzhu nodded: "Understood."

Old Sun turned around and looked at him: "Also, those of you key members, it's best not to go out alone during this period. We suspect that someone is watching you."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun is gone.

He sat alone in his office, the lights off. The streetlights outside shone in through the window, dividing the room into sections of light and darkness.

He thought about Lao Sun's words, about that silicon wafer, and about the young people who were clapping.

Stand up and walk to the window.

Old Sun's car had disappeared into the night. Across the street, a black sedan remained parked, its engine off, motionless.

Just as He Yuzhu was about to draw the curtains, the taillights of the car suddenly lit up.

It's dead again.

Still nothing.

It just stopped there.

He Yuzhu's hand stopped on the curtain, looking at the two red dots that had just disappeared.

In the pitch-black night, the car lay there, like a crouching beast.