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

The 1,000-watt light bulb in the workshop has been on for seven days.

The light was blindingly white, casting long, dark shadows that seemed to nail everyone to the ground. The air was thick with the pungent smell of engine oil and burnt metal, making one's throat tighten. The pile of engine debris scattered on the ground, some as big as fists, others shattered into dust, gleamed coldly under the light, looking more like a heap of murder weapons than anything else.

He Yuzhu squatted there, clutching a fragment of the combustion chamber in his hand. The edges were curled up, blackened, and crumbled when touched.

Ma Yuejin stood to the side, two large, shiny blisters on his lips, broken and oozing blood. He hadn't slept for three days; his eye sockets were sunken, his cheekbones protruded, and he looked completely drained.

"Dean, this is the seventh time." His voice was terribly hoarse, as if he had a mouthful of sand. "Every time we're close to the limit, bang! It's like we planned it."

After he finished speaking, he slammed the iron rod in his hand to the ground. The impact echoed loudly in the empty workshop.

He Yuzhu didn't say anything, put down the piece of metal, and walked to the computer. Lin Jianguo was hunched over the screen, his fingers tapping rapidly on the keyboard, the numbers on the screen flashing so fast it was dizzying.

"What was the outcome of the founding of the nation?"

Lin Jianguo raised his head. There were two dark circles under his eyes, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Dean, I've calculated it three times." He pointed to the line of data on the screen, his fingers trembling. "The design is fine, the materials are fine. The problem is the equipment. The production line is too old, the precision isn't enough. We require an error of one-thousandth of a millimeter, and that batch of machines can only achieve one-hundredth."

He paused, then lowered his voice.

"Ten times different."

The workshop fell silent.

It was so quiet you could hear the buzzing of the light bulb's current.

Ma Yuejin cursed.

"Oh shit."

He didn't insult anyone, he just insulted.

He Yuzhu stood there, looking at the pile of debris, at the two blood blisters on Ma Yuejin's mouth, and at the two bluish-black bruises on Lin Jianguo's face.

Seven days and seven nights. Seven failures.

It's not a design problem, it's not a material problem.

It's equipment.

The equipment is too old. The accuracy is insufficient.

He remembered what Director Qian had said.

"The equipment can be bought or manufactured. But we have to figure out the process ourselves."

The process was figured out, but the equipment couldn't keep up.

He stood there for a while, then turned and walked out.

He walked to the door, then turned back.

"Keep the blueprints. Everyone go home and sleep tonight."

He Yuzhu locked himself in his office without turning on the lights.

The light from the streetlamp outside the window pierced through the wall, casting a stark white diagonal line that fell directly onto the pile of engine wreckage—he had brought back the largest pieces and placed them in the corner.

He stared at that pile of things for a long time.

Then bring up the system interface.

The screen lit up in the darkness, a deep, dark blue.

He flipped to the production line section.

[Complete set of blueprints for a heavy tank production line]

[Includes: specialized machine for gun barrel processing, armor plate forming equipment, welding robot solutions, assembly line layout, and testing system design]

[Redeemable Points: 1,000,000]

Eight million.

How much stuff can you buy?

Ma Yuejin's two blood blisters, Lin Jianguo's two bluish-black blobs, and the pile of shattered fragments were all flashing before my eyes.

He clicked "redeem".

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

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

He took the stack of blueprints out of the system space. It was a thick stack, about a meter high. The cover had text printed on it, and at the bottom was a line of smaller print: "Includes equipment manufacturing process and installation and commissioning specifications."

He turned to the first page.

Specialized machine for gun barrel processing. Armor plate forming equipment. Welding robot solutions.

Turning the pages one by one, it's all practical information.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

It was Old Zheng from the security department who pushed open the door. He didn't turn on the light, but walked over in the dark and placed a thermos on the table.

"Dean, your sister-in-law sent this through someone. She said to please take care of yourself."

The thermos was still steaming. There was a note on the lid, written in Qin Huairu's handwriting.

"Go to bed early after you finish drinking. Don't stay up late."

He Yuzhu stared at that line of text for several seconds.

Then he picked up the bowl and took a sip.

It's hot, but it smells good.

The next morning, He Yuzhu carried the stack of blueprints into the workshop.

Ma Yuejin was standing in front of the pile of debris, lost in thought, when he heard a noise and turned around. He was stunned when he saw the pile of blueprints.

"Dean, what's this?"

He Yuzhu handed over the top one.

"New production line. Build it like this."

Ma Yuejin took it, glanced at it, and then glanced at it again. His eyes widened, and the two blood blisters trembled with each glance.

"Where...where did this come from?"

He Yuzhu did not answer.

Lin Jianguo leaned over and glanced at it a few times. He turned a couple of pages, then looked up.

"Dean, if we can build this, the precision problem will be solved."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"Then let's build it."

He turned around and looked at the people in the workshop. Some were picking up debris, some were squatting on the ground smoking, and some were leaning against the wall in a daze. They were all tired; they had all been working for too long.

"Starting today, the materials team, engine team, and process team will all be transferred to the new production line. I want to see the first domestically produced tank production line by the end of the year."

No one spoke.

Ma Yuejin spoke first. He carefully rolled up the blueprint and held it in his arms.

"Dean, cheers!"

Lin Jianguo nodded as well.

"Dry."

The others nodded in agreement, sparsely but all of them.

He Yuzhu stood there, looking at those people.

In the afternoon, the door was pushed open without knocking.

Old Sun stood in the doorway, backlit, so his expression was obscured. He closed the door behind him, didn't sit down, and just stood opposite the desk.

He Yuzhu put down the blueprints and looked at him.

Old Sun was silent for two seconds. The atmosphere in the entire office seemed to drop.

He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and placed it on the table.

"The Soviets have turned their backs. The debts must be repaid ahead of schedule."

He Yuzhu looked down at the paper.

He didn't say anything.

Old Sun tapped his finger on the paper.

"On your side, equipment imports and material procurement must be cut back. The higher-ups are trying to find a solution, but you also need to be mentally prepared."

He paused.

"Is your tank production line still operational?"

He Yuzhu looked up at him.

"able."

Old Sun nodded.

"That's good."

He turned and left.

The door closed. The office fell silent again.

He Yuzhu sat there, looking out the window.

The sky was overcast; it looked like it was going to snow.