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

The lights in the control room stayed on all night.

He Yuzhu sat in that tattered chair, dozens of rolls of telemetry data spread out in front of him. The fluorescent light was a stark white, making his face appear ashen. The ashtray was piled high with cigarette butts, some still smoldering. In the corner was an enamel mug, the tea inside long since cold, the tea leaves settled at the bottom, clumped together.

Lin Jianguo pushed open the door and came in, carrying two cups of freshly brewed hot tea. He placed one cup next to He Yuzhu, and then leaned against the wall with the other cup in his hand.

"Dean, you should go to sleep."

He Yuzhu didn't look up; his finger traced across a roll of data.

Lin Jianguo looked at him. His face was unkempt, with dark circles under his eyes and bloodshot pupils. His shirt collar was wrinkled, the cuffs were rolled up to his elbows, and there was a patch of machine oil on his exposed forearm.

"I've already reviewed this data three times," Lin Jianguo said in a softened voice. "You should go back and get some sleep first, and I'll go through it again."

He Yuzhu's fingertip stopped on that curve.

"Read the seventh article in Volume Three carefully."

Lin Jianguo paused for a moment, then leaned closer. The data scroll glowed a dim yellow under the light, its curves undulating like an electrocardiogram. He stared at it for a dozen seconds, then frowned.

"The separation signal has been sent... but the actuator hasn't moved?"

He flipped the roll of data forward and then back, repeating this process three times.

"That's impossible." His voice changed. "When designing the circuit, we specifically avoided intersections; a short circuit is impossible."

He Yuzhu finally raised his head. His bloodshot eyes stared at Lin Jianguo, making Lin Jianguo feel uneasy.

"We avoided it, but we didn't avoid the tremors."

He pulled out a roll of data from the side and spread it out.

"Three seconds after ignition, the vibration frequency of the rocket body reached its peak. Look here—at the same time the separation signal was emitted, the current fluctuated."

Lin Jianguo leaned closer to take a look. On that curve, there was a tiny, sharp spike, almost invisible unless you looked very closely.

"This is..." His Adam's apple bobbed, "...the lines have touched something?"

He Yuzhu nodded.

"It was just a brief touch. Less than a millisecond."

Lin Jianguo stood there, nearly dropping his teacup. He recalled the fifth test launch, when everyone was focused on the separation mechanism, and no one had considered that the problem might lie in the wiring.

"We..." he began, opening his mouth, "We worked for free for three months?"

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stood up and walked to the window. It was pitch black outside, and he couldn't see anything except his own tired face reflected in the glass.

"It wasn't a waste of time," he said. "I learned where things didn't go well."

The next morning, He Yuzhu went to the precision processing factory in the west of the city.

The workshop reeked of machine oil, and the noise from the lathes was deafening. He walked past the machines to the innermost small room. Factory Director Sun was slumped over a table, staring blankly at a stack of blueprints. Hearing footsteps, he looked up, his reading glasses slipping down to the tip of his nose.

"Where is the length? This thing..." He took off his glasses and wiped them with his sleeve. "The precision requirements are too high."

He Yuzhu stood in front of him.

"Is it possible?"

Factory Director Sun didn't answer immediately. He lowered his head and flipped through the stack of blueprints again. When he turned to the third page, he stopped and pointed to a number on it with his finger.

"Our equipment is in a bind for this project."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Is it "probably not" or "not possible"?

Factory Director Sun looked up. His face was deeply lined with wrinkles, appearing yellowish in the workshop lights. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but then swallowed his words.

"Director He, to be honest, if this gets messed up, I can't take the responsibility."

He Yuzhu sat down in the chair.

"If I mess it up, it's my fault. If I succeed, it's yours."

Factory Director Sun stood there, stunned. After a long while, he put his reading glasses back on.

"Three months."

He Yuzhu stood up.

"Just three months."

He walked to the door, then turned back. The old lathe in the workshop was still turning, and a young worker was lying on it, processing a small part. The part was tiny, gleaming as it spun around under the cutting tool.

He Yuzhu stood there and watched for a few seconds.

Factory Director Sun walked over and followed his gaze.

"That's my apprentice, surnamed Zhou. He's been with me for ten years."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"He's had a tough time."

The parts arrived on the first day three months later.

He Yuzhu stood at the entrance of the research institute, watching the truck drive in. Several wooden crates were stacked in the cargo bed, covered with tarpaulins. Director Sun jumped out of the driver's seat; he had a slight limp and walked with a stagger. He walked up to He Yuzhu and handed him the stack of blueprints.

"Director, please inspect the premises."

He Yuzhu opened a box. The parts were neatly stacked, each wrapped in oil paper. He picked one up and examined it against the light. The surface was smooth, the edges sharp, and it gleamed coldly in the sunlight.

"it is good."

Factory Director Sun stood there, rubbing his hands. He seemed about to say something, but then remained silent.

He Yuzhu put the parts back.

"What's wrong?"

Factory Director Sun hesitated for a moment.

"That Xiao Zhou is my apprentice. For the past three months, he hasn't had a single day off, he's been glued to the lathe every day. Last night, after finishing the last part, he fell asleep on the lathe, and I couldn't wake him up no matter how hard I tried."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Factory Director Sun looked at him.

"Director He, if this thing works, could you let him take a look? Just a quick glance from afar, so as not to disturb him."

He Yuzhu nodded.

"able."

On the day of the sixth test launch, the sky was very blue.

He Yuzhu stood in the control room, staring at the fluctuating data on the screen. Lin Jianguo stood beside him, his hands gripping the control panel, his knuckles white. Qian Nian stood on the other side, her lips tightly pressed together, her face pale.

Countdown.

ignition.

The rocket launches.

Primary separation.

Secondary ignition.

Secondary separation.

Three-stage ignition.

Three-level separation.

Everyone's eyes were fixed on that tiny dot.

The moment the separation signal was sent, the control room was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

The data on the screen jumped.

Lin Jianguo's mouth was open, but no sound came out. He suddenly squatted down, buried his face in his knees, and his shoulders trembled. Qian Nian tried to help him up, but her legs gave way and she grabbed the wall for support.

Someone was crying in the corner. Someone laughed and cursed. Someone slumped in a chair, not moving for a long time.

He Yuzhu stood there, watching the tiny dot on the screen slowly enter its orbit. It was so small, twinkling against the dark background like a star.

He remembered Xiao Wang's burned face. He remembered Ma Yuejin collapsing from exhaustion. He remembered Director Sun's back as he slumped over the lathe. He remembered the young worker surnamed Zhou, asleep there, unresponsive to any attempts to wake him.

He turned around and walked out.

"Dean, where are you going?" Qian Nian asked.

He didn't turn around.

Go tell Xiao Wang.

the phone is ringing.

He Yuzhu answered the call, and there was a two-second silence on the other end.

"Commander."

It was Yang Xiaobing, but his voice was off. It wasn't weakness, but the kind of weakness he was forcing himself to hide.

He Yuzhu's hand tightened slightly.

"What's wrong?"

There was a slight, strained laugh on the other end.

"I took out a division commander. That bastard was hiding behind a bunker; it took me two miles to find him."

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Yang Xiaobing laughed again.

"I got hit too. I'm fine, I won't die."

A nurse's shouts came from the other end of the phone; someone was running, and there were sounds of instruments clashing. A metal plate fell to the ground with a thud.

He Yuzhu gripped the microphone, his knuckles turning white.

"Did it work on your end?" Yang Xiaobing asked.

He Yuzhu looked at the small dot on the screen that was now running stably.

"It's done."

There was a two-second silence on the other end, followed by a soft chuckle.

"That's good."

The phone hangs up.

He Yuzhu stood there, listening to the busy tone on the microphone. The small dot on the screen was still spinning, flashing.

Outside the window, the sky is very blue.

He recalled the salute Yang Xiaobing gave when he left.

"Don't worry, Commander!"

He was relieved.

But he didn't block Yang Xiaobing's shot.