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

The firing range was located in the Gobi Desert west of Baotou. The wind was strong, and the sand stung his face. He Yuzhu squinted as he picked up the dark green rifle. The barrel was thicker than a thumb, with a cable trailing behind it, connected to a battery the size of a backpack. Director Sun of the Baotou Arsenal squatted nearby, staring at the speedometer, his fingers unconsciously tracing lines in the sand.

"Where is the head? The battery is full. The initial velocity is five times the speed of sound. Theoretically, it can fire thirty shots." Director Sun's voice was broken by the wind.

He Yuzhu pressed the butt of his rifle into his shoulder and aimed at the ten-millimeter-thick steel plate a hundred meters away. The plate was supported by an iron frame and swayed slightly in the wind. He held his breath and pulled the trigger.

hum-

A very short sound, like a bee buzzing past your ear. There was no gunshot, no smell of gunpowder, only a faint, fishy odor of ozone. The steel plate shook, revealing a finger-thick hole in the middle, its edges blackened and emitting white smoke.

Factory Director Sun ran over, squatted down, and touched the hole; it was hot. He stood up, turned around, and shouted, "It's through! Ten millimeters, it's through!"

He Yuzhu put down the gun and rubbed his shoulder. The recoil wasn't strong, but the gun was too heavy; his arm ached after holding it for a while. He walked over and squatted down to examine the bullet hole. The hole was round and smooth, like it had been pierced by a red-hot iron rod. He reached out and touched it; it was hot.

"What about accuracy?"

Factory Director Sun pointed to the target paper next to the steel plate. There was a small hole in the center of the target paper, and the bullet impact point was less than one centimeter off the bullseye.

Chief Engineer Li walked over from behind, took the gun, and weighed it in his hand. He frowned, didn't speak immediately, slung the gun over his shoulder, took a few steps, and then unloaded it.

"Commander He, this gun is good, but it's too heavy. Eight kilograms, soldiers can't carry it." He put the gun on the ground, squatted down and patted the battery. "The battery is small too, it'll be gone after thirty rounds. On the battlefield, once the bullets are gone, this gun is just a fire poker."

He Yuzhu didn't reply. He raised his gun and aimed at a basketball-sized rock two hundred meters away. He pulled the trigger, and with a whoosh, the rock exploded, scattering fragments everywhere. He put the gun down and looked at Chief Engineer Li.

"How much will the cost be if the gun barrel is replaced with a carbon nanotube?"

Chief Engineer Li thought for a moment. "We can reduce the weight by two kilograms. By changing the battery formula, the volume can be halved, and the capacity can be increased by 50%. But it will take time, testing, and money."

He Yuzhu squatted down and picked up the steel plate that had been punched through. The plate was still steaming; he flicked it with his finger, making a "ding" sound. "Reduce it to under five kilograms. Make the batteries produce one hundred rounds. I'll figure out the money."

Factory Director Sun took the gun and held it to his chest. "Alright. I'll organize a task force to tackle this problem."

The sun began to set. Long shadows stretched across the Gobi Desert. He Yuzhu stood alone by the firing range for a long time, clutching a fragment of steel plate, his fingers tracing the edge of the bullet hole. He remembered the Korean War years ago, when soldiers used old-fashioned rifles to shoot at tanks, unable to penetrate them, and in their frustration, they smashed their rifle butts.

The wind picked up, and the sand hit the steel plate fragments, making a clanging sound.

It was getting dark. He Yuzhu returned to the guesthouse. The room wasn't big, with a bed, a table, and a chair. A half-empty glass of cold water sat on the table. He placed the piece of steel plate on the table and tapped it with his finger; the crisp sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet room. Then the phone rang.

He answered the phone, and it was Old Sun on the other end, his voice very low.

"Old He, is it a convenient time to talk over there?"

He Yuzhu held the microphone. "Convenient."

Old Sun paused for two seconds. "In Nagqu, Tibet, scouts discovered a stronghold. Armed personnel, with foreign instructors training there. The number is still unclear. But there's one thing—" He paused, "the guns they're using aren't common models on the market. The scouts said they look strange, and they make no sound when fired."

He Yuzhu pressed his hand on the table. "No sound?"

"It's just a suspicion. Send Yang Xiaobing to take a look. Bring the new gun; it'll be a good opportunity to compare them."

He Yuzhu didn't speak. He stood by the window, looking at the Gobi Desert outside. The moon rose, casting a pale, hazy light on the gray ground. He remembered that Yang Xiaobing had just returned from Brazil not long ago and was about to leave again.

"Let Yang Xiaobing come."

The phone hangs up.

He Yuzhu picked up the steel plate fragment from the table and stuffed it into his pocket. He walked back to the bedside, sat down, and retrieved the list from his system space. Turning to the page for "electromagnetic rifle," after the words "prototype," he added a line: "Made jointly by Baotou Arsenal and Chongqing Construction Industry, muzzle velocity Mach 5, penetration depth 10mm. Weight 8 kg, 30 batteries. Needs weight reduction and capacity increase."

Once you're done writing, put the list back and lock it.

There was a knock on the door. Yang Xiaobing stood in the doorway, wearing an old military uniform, his face tanned a dark red. He had only been back from Brazil a few days ago and hadn't recovered yet.

"Commander, you wanted to see me?"

He Yuzhu pointed to the chair. "Sit."

Yang Xiaobing sat down. He Yuzhu took the piece of steel plate fragment out of his pocket and tossed it to him. Yang Xiaobing caught it, turned it over, and glanced at the bullet hole.

"New guns, electromagnetic. They can penetrate 10mm steel plates," He Yuzhu said. "A stronghold of Tibetan separatists has been discovered in Nagqu, Tibet, with foreign instructors. Old Sun said the guns they use make no sound when fired."

Yang Xiaobing's hand paused on the steel plate fragment. "No sound?"

"It's suspected to be an electromagnetic weapon. Go check it out. Take the new guns with you, and test it in real combat."

Yang Xiaobing placed the shard on the table and stood up. "How many men should I take?"

He Yuzhu thought for a moment. "Eight. Bring four electromagnetic rifles. Bring extra batteries. The altitude there is high, take care of yourself."

Yang Xiaobing nodded and turned to leave.

"Yang Xiaobing".

He stopped.

He Yuzhu watched his retreating figure. "Come back alive."

Yang Xiaobing didn't turn around, but pushed open the door and went out. The footsteps in the corridor grew fainter and fainter, and then fell silent.

He Yuzhu stood by the window, looking at the moon outside. The wind was strong on the Gobi Desert, rattling the windows. He stood there for a long time before finally drawing the curtains.

The next morning, He Yuzhu boarded the train back to Beijing. The carriage was almost empty. He leaned against the window, watching the Gobi Desert slowly recede in the morning light. Sand, gravel, and camel thorns fell one by one behind him. He took the piece of steel plate out of his pocket, held it in his palm, and looked at it for a long time.

Yang Xiaobing is leaving again. Nagqu, Tibet, at an altitude of over 4,000 meters, the air is thin, and you'll be out of breath just walking. Those people, those events, are all on the road.

After the train passed Zhangjiakou, the scenery outside the window changed from gray-yellow to gray-green. He Yuzhu stuffed the fragment back into his pocket and closed his eyes. The gun was too heavy, the battery too small, and Yang Xiaobing's destination was too far away. The road ahead was long, and they still had to walk.