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

The lights in the workshop were blindingly bright.

When He Yuzhu pushed open the door, the smell of engine oil mixed with metal shavings hit him, making him stand at the door for two seconds. He had never thought much of the smell before, but now, smelling it made his nose sting.

Lin Jianguo was slumped over the long table, his elbows resting on a stack of blueprints, the edges of which were yellowed and curled from the fluorescent light. He looked up, and the two dark circles under his eyes were no longer black, but purple, as if he had been punched twice.

"Dean, you're back."

He Yuzhu nodded and walked to the table. Ma Yuejin poked his head out from the other side, his face smeared with engine oil, and a dent in his cheekbone.

"Dean, we've been thinking about something these past few days."

He pointed to the top drawing, his finger landing on a cylindrical section.

"The core module. The living quarters and control center are all inside."

They were then moved to a slightly smaller compartment next to it.

"Experimental chamber. Used for research. And this, the airlock, people have to go through here to move around."

He Yuzhu looked down at the drawings. The lines were dense, the annotations were written in pencil, and some parts were erased and rewritten, making the paper rough.

Lin Jianguo pulled out another sketch from the side, which depicted several cylinders docking in space.

"This thing is too big to be sent up in one go. It needs to be launched in batches and assembled in space. We'll use a space shuttle to send it up, one stage at a time, docking each stage as it goes up, and assembling it slowly."

Ma Yuejin frowned.

"The Space Shuttle is still just a theoretical concept. The rocket thrust isn't enough either; the core module plus equipment weighs at least twenty tons. Our largest rocket right now can't reach that weight."

He poked at the core module on the blueprint, his fingers making a popping sound as he pressed.

"Twenty tons. Twenty tons! Our largest rocket is only sixteen tons. With your modular design, my heart skips a beat every time it docks, and after three dockings I'll be in the emergency room."

Lin Jianguo didn't look up; his voice was muffled within the drawings.

"Then come up with a solution."

"What solution am I supposed to offer? All your contacting agencies are just theoretical!"

"Even something theoretical is better than nothing." Lin Jianguo finally raised his head, the two purplish-black bruises under his eyes making him look like he had just crawled out of a coal mine. "Or do you want to wait for the Soviets to come back and help us?"

Ma Yuejin opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.

The workshop quieted down. In the distance, a machine tool was still turning, buzzing like a bee.

He Yuzhu stood to the side, watching the two argue. He recalled his old leader's last words, and that hand that was so thin it was just skin and bones.

His voice was a little hoarse when he spoke.

"Put the space shuttle aside for now. Get the rocket sorted out first."

He walked to the blueprints of the core module and pointed to the twenty-ton mark.

"I need to be able to access this within three years."

Lin Jianguo and Ma Yuejin both looked at him without saying a word.

Late at night.

He Yuzhu sat alone in his office and turned on the desk lamp. A layer of dust had settled on the lampshade, and the light shone on the pile of documents on the desk, giving it a dim, yellowish glow.

He brought up the system interface.

[Basic Design of the Space Station Core Module]

[Includes: structural layout, life support integration, docking mechanism principle, power system solution, and thermal control design]

[Redeemable Points: 1,000,000]

Twelve million.

He stared at the line of numbers, tapping his fingers three times on the table. How much food could this money buy? How many disaster victims could it save? How many production lines could it power?

But he remembered Lin Jianguo's words—"Even something theoretical is better than nothing."

He clicked "redeem".

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

Current total points: 73,811,233 - 500,000 = 73,311,233 points

He took out the stack of documents from the system space; it was a thick pile, and put it on the table. The cover was printed with the words "Basic Design of Space Station Core Module".

Turn to the first page. Structural layout. Life support integration. Docking mechanism principle. Turn the pages one by one; the drawings show a ring-shaped structure with a guide rod in the center and a sealing ring around it. When the two modules approach each other, the guide rod inserts, pulling the two modules together and locking them in place.

This thing can't have any problems.

The next morning, Lin Jianguo was summoned.

He Yuzhu pushed the stack of documents over. When Lin Jianguo reached out to take it, his hand slipped, and the stack of papers almost fell to the ground. He quickly picked it up and held it in his arms.

He turned the first page and then stopped. He looked up at He Yuzhu.

"Dean..."

There was something in his eyes—he wanted to ask where he came from, but knew he wouldn't answer even if he asked; he wanted to thank him, but felt that thanking him was too inadequate.

In the end, he said nothing and hugged the documents even tighter.

The issue of funding was brought up that very afternoon.

He Yuzhu did the math. Government funding alone wasn't enough. Space stations are incredibly expensive. Materials, equipment, manpower—you can't cut corners on any of them.

He picked up the phone and dialed Lao Sun's number.

The call was connected on the other end.

"Old He?"

He Yuzhu held the microphone.

"Old Sun, can we still use the same channels for that batch of gold from last time?"

There was a long silence on Lao Sun's end. So long that He Yuzhu thought the call had been disconnected.

"Five hundred tons?" Old Sun's voice was extremely low. "Do you even know what that means? Last time it was three hundred tons and I made up a story about patriotic overseas Chinese. This time it's five hundred tons, what do you expect me to make up? That overseas Chinese have staged a rebellion?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun sighed, lit a cigarette on the other end, and you could hear a whoosh.

"Okay. I'll take care of it. But Lao He, this thing can't be kept secret sooner or later."

"We'll keep it a secret as long as we can."

A week later, Old Sun arrived with a remittance slip.

He slammed the form on the table, his fingers still pressed down.

"Five hundred tons, exchanged for thirty-four million. The higher-ups were overjoyed. During a meeting, someone asked, 'Who is this overseas Chinese? Can we try to contact him again?'"

He looked at He Yuzhu.

"What the hell am I supposed to say? 'This was conjured up by our Dean He'?"

He Yuzhu didn't say anything.

Old Sun stood there for a while, then left.

When Yang Xiaobing pushed open the door, he was carrying two enamel mugs. He placed one in front of He Yuzhu, and carried the other himself without sitting down.

He Yuzhu looked up and noticed that his eyes looked strange.

"What's wrong?"

Yang Xiaobing held the jar, remaining silent. Several seconds passed before he finally spoke.

"Commander, I have a question for you."

"explain."

"Please don't laugh at me."

He Yuzhu looked at him.

Yang Xiaobing took a deep breath.

"When can we get up there?"

He pointed to the sky. Behind the gray clouds outside the window, something was flashing; he couldn't see it, but he knew it was there.

"The night before last, I was on guard duty when I saw a star moving. It didn't look like an airplane. It took me a while to realize that it was our satellite."

He smiled, a slightly embarrassed smile.

"I was thinking, once the satellite is up there, when will people be able to go up? Even if it's just to take a quick look and then come back down, it would be worth it."

He Yuzhu looked at him. There was a scar on his face, and he looked tired beyond his years. But the light in his eyes was the same as when he first joined the army twenty years ago.

"You wait."

Yang Xiaobing paused for a moment, then laughed.

"Okay. I'll wait."

he's gone.

He Yuzhu sat there alone, took off the pair of gloves, and placed them on the table. They were made of Qin Huairu woven fabric, old, with frayed edges, but still wearable.

He recalled his old leader's last words, "Our space dream," and Yang Xiaobing's words, "Go up and take a look, then come down."

the phone is ringing.

He answered the phone; it was Old Sun on the other end.

"Old He, something's happened at the border."

He Yuzhu's hand tightened slightly.

"What is it?"

"The enemy has new aircraft. Our radar can't detect them."

Old Sun paused for a moment.

"A reconnaissance plane came in from the south and flew over most of the province, but we didn't see it at all. By the time we saw it, it had already gone back."

He Yuzhu held the microphone but didn't speak.

Behind the clouds outside the window, the star is still twinkling.

"Let me see."

He put down the phone.