Courtyard House: I'm an engineer, and a fairy godmother transferred me to a different position.

Several computer engineers rushed forward, circled the machine twice, reached out to touch it but hesitated and withdrew, their eyes gleaming with intense desire. Several nuclear theory researchers, their eyes dark from days of working late, also looked up from behind piles of manuscripts, quickly approaching, their voices trembling slightly:

"Comrade Guangqi—"

A researcher with graying hair asked excitedly, "This machine... can it really perform 110,000 calculations per second?"

Liu Guangqi nodded, his expression calm. He turned and walked to the paper tape input device beside him, picked up a pre-punched data paper tape, and looked at everyone:

"Let's try it now. Input the three sets of parameters you just verified and see how long it takes to give the results."

As soon as the words were spoken, the room erupted in excitement once more. All eyes were fixed on the thin roll of paper, and everyone held their breath in anticipation.

The computing power of the second-generation computers exceeded everyone's expectations.

As strings of numbers streamed across the output screen, eventually converging into data that perfectly matched the manual verification results, the entire computer room fell silent.

Then erupted an even more enthusiastic cheer. The sound was filled with unbelievable surprise and long-suppressed excitement.

When Director Deng arrived at the scene, this was what he saw. He stopped at the edge of the crowd, watching the report being passed around and read by everyone, and a smile gradually appeared on his face.

After the cheers subsided, he strode in, took the report, and carefully reviewed it. Every number was accurate, and a glint flashed in his eyes. He knew that the significance of this report went far beyond a successful calculation.

However, before he could speak, the atmosphere in the room changed again—many people were no longer satisfied with just watching the results, but instead crowded around the second-generation computer that was still humming and running, eager to try operating this new device that could perform 110,000 calculations per second.

"Don't push! Everyone, don't push!"

"Take it one step at a time, and be careful not to ruin Comrade Guangqi's hard work!"

Director Deng watched as these usually rigorous and quiet researchers gathered around him like children encountering something new, and a helpless smile appeared in his eyes.

Looking at the excited yet clumsy expressions of the crowd, Liu Guangqi found it somewhat comical, yet also helpless. He could only arrange for everyone to try it in turn, while carefully instructing them to thoroughly understand the operating principles of the equipment.

Once the research institute had quieted down again, Director Deng walked up to Liu Guangqi with a beaming smile and began to speak:

"Comrade Guangqi!"

"I really have to thank you this time. With the help of your second-generation computer, it seems that the final work on our theoretical design scheme will be completed soon."

These words truly came from Director Deng's heart.

In the journey of developing nuclear weapons, every moment saved is invaluable.

Liu Guangqi understood this better than anyone else.

If things had followed the original trajectory, without his arrival and the existence of the Type 104B computer, Director Deng and his team would have been able to perform calculations using only hand-cranked calculators, slide rules, and even the most primitive abacuses. Even so, they still completed the theoretical design blueprint for the mushroom bomb in mid-1963.

Now, with the second-generation computer he brought, the speed of progress is naturally incomparable to what it used to be.

……

The official operation of the second-generation computer was like giving the nuclear theory research institute a pair of wings to take off.

Previously, data processing work that required a large amount of manpower and a very long time, especially the mushroom bomb theory scheme that had to undergo nine rounds of complex calculations, has become both accurate and fast with the assistance of this new machine.

Only half a month later.

Through repeated simulations and data verification, Director Deng's team gained an unprecedentedly thorough understanding of the implosion mechanism of mushroom bombs.

Those parameters that were once vague and difficult to define, and those details that required repeated consideration, became clear and definite one by one under the clear calculations of the second-generation computer.

It must be admitted that many key theoretical breakthroughs are often hidden in these subtle clarifications.

Late November 1962.

This is a day that will be etched in history.

The complete theoretical design scheme for my country's first mushroom bomb has finally been finalized amidst much anticipation.

Liu Guangqi knew in his heart that this achievement was almost six months ahead of schedule compared to the initial plan.

The moment Director Deng picked up his pen and solemnly signed his name on the thick final draft of the theoretical design plan, the entire research institute erupted in cheers.

That's not just a signature, but a weighty promise, an inescapable responsibility, and the culmination of countless days and nights of tireless effort.

Shortly thereafter.

This plan, which carried the hopes of the nation, was quickly compiled into a document and submitted to the higher-level council in accordance with procedures.

Standing in the jubilant crowd, Liu Guangqi looked at the proud and excited faces around him, and an indescribable emotion welled up in his heart.

This achievement is not only a major breakthrough in the field of nuclear theory, but also a solid first step for the entire nation on the path to nuclear weapons.

In a daze, a code name flashed through his mind—596.

Although researchers often jokingly refer to it as "Qiu**" within the research community, every Chinese person prefers to call it the "Pride Bullet".

Just like all the Chinese people who work hard silently in this era, its existence is about fighting for pride.

……

Night was falling.

Sijiu City, the office of the superior administrative committee.

In an office, documents piled up like a mountain. The top leader rubbed his aching temples, picked up the long-cold strong tea on the table, and took a sip.

The tea was bitter, but it managed to dispel some of my weariness.

Just then—

Boom, boom.

The knocking was more urgent than usual, with a hint of barely suppressed force.

"Please come in."

Before he could finish speaking, the secretary pushed open the door and strode in, his steps even somewhat hurried. He was clutching a document submitted to the Academy Committee tightly in his arms, as if protecting a priceless treasure.

"lead!"

The secretary's voice trembled slightly, almost imperceptibly: "An urgent confidential document from Director Deng of Factory 221, the Nuclear Theory Research Institute!"

"Oh? From Factory 221?"

The high-ranking leader put down his teacup, his spirits lifting slightly.

"If I remember correctly, Comrade Guangqi from the First Ministry of Machine Building just recently brought a second-generation computer to provide support, right?"

"You got a response so quickly?"

He smiled slightly, a hint of mockery in his expression, and reached out to take the documents that were handed to him.

The document felt light in my hand, yet somehow it carried a strange weight.

The high-ranking leader quickly opened the seal and took out the few thin pages inside.

The moment his gaze fell on the title on the homepage, the smile on his face froze.

His back straightened instantly, and he subconsciously leaned forward, getting closer to the lamplight, as if to see the words more clearly.

"Nuclear theory design scheme...?"

He read it aloud in a low voice, the end of his words carrying a hint of surprise and joy that he himself was unaware of.

Is it finished?

They finished ahead of schedule?

The senior leader's gaze gradually turned serious, and he began to read carefully, word by word.

He paused slightly when he turned to the last page.

The ink smudged at the end of the page, and the familiar signature still carried a damp scent. His breath caught in his throat.

It was Director Deng's doing.

My gaze was fixed on the progress statement at the end of the plan—a date was printed in bold:

[The final verification was completed on November 29, 1962.]

His fingers traced the words, and a warmth seemed to seep through the rough paper. The weariness that had accumulated on his face vanished instantly, and a bright light appeared in his eyes.

"good!"

……

The secretary standing beside him held her breath.

What exactly is in this document?

Just as we were speculating, the leader suddenly turned around, his eyes almost scorching: "Bring out the minutes from that meeting a few days ago, the 'Report on Establishing a Special Committee to Strengthen Atomic Energy Work'!"

The secretary responded and quickly walked towards the filing cabinet.

Before long, a summary was placed on the table. He pulled out the inner pages and laid it out side by side with the newly delivered proposal.

The surviving meeting document clearly listed the objectives: to strive for the first test of a nuclear bomb in 19**. One key milestone was the requirement to complete the entire nuclear theoretical design scheme by mid-1963.

The deadline is the middle of next year.

One result is already in sight, which will be achieved by the end of November this year.

It was actually more than six months ahead of schedule.

He stared at the two dates, first a silent smile appeared on his lips, then a smile spread into his eyes, but his eyes were faintly burning.

Half a year...

Think of all the things that can be accomplished in these six months of hard work! It means that all subsequent steps can move forward, bringing us one step closer to the ultimate goal.

He suppressed the burning heat surging in his chest, his gaze sharpening with determination: "Get me on the call from the Northwest Base."

After that, no one knows what the leaders of the higher-level institute committee said to Director Deng on the phone.

But everyone gradually realized that from that day on, the research and development of the first mushroom egg had its own unique code name, no longer simply referred to as "project".

It is called "596".

Why these three numbers?

In June 1959, the northern big brother unilaterally broke the agreement, refusing to provide China with mushroom bomb teaching models and technical data, and even withdrew all the experts he had sent.

To commemorate that moment, the code name for the first mushroom bomb was officially changed from "Project 596" to "596".

This serves as a reminder to everyone: self-reliance.

……

Three more days passed.

A lively commotion arose outside the canteen of the Institute of Nuclear Theory. Two plump black pigs were tied to the back of two transport trucks, and their grunting attracted the researchers to gather around.

The atmosphere in the entire research institute immediately exploded.

In this desolate Northwest, supplies have always been scarce. The canteen usually serves alkaline water and barley flour mixed with sand, and meat is almost a luxury. It's rare to taste a proper pork dish even after half a year.

Director Deng walked out from behind the crowd with his hands behind his back. Looking at his subordinates with shining eyes, a long-lost smile appeared on his face.

He cleared his throat and patted his hand.

"You saw everything?"

Everyone turned around in unison, their gazes fixed intently on him.

Director Deng smiled slightly and waved his arm:

"Look! This is a reward from our superiors! It's a reward for completing the entire theoretical design work six months ahead of schedule!"

He paused, then raised his voice:

"No tasks scheduled this afternoon, everyone come lend a hand. Tonight—we'll have a good meal!"

Who would have thought that the transport team would be able to bring in these pigs as a reward for all the staff of the research institute.

With these two pigs, the researchers' long-term malnutrition was somewhat alleviated.

To be honest, it is now 1962.

In the factory areas of Beijing, a pig is not a rare reward; even some ministry canteens have plenty of them in their daily supplies.

After all, having paid off its foreign debts, China now has foreign exchange earnings from industry and is supported by export plans for CNC machine tools, so it no longer needs to tighten its belt as it did before.

But for the base in this wasteland, this is the most tangible and precious recognition.

This is not just a pork feast.

This is an affirmation of their hard work, and even more so, the most powerful proof that they completed the theoretical design of the mushroom bomb six months ahead of schedule.

The cheers nearly burst through the roof of the research institute.

As dusk settled, a rich aroma of meat wafted from the direction of the canteen, its fragrance permeating the air, seeping into every corridor and room, making everyone's stomachs rumble. In the pots, large chunks of braised pork were bubbling and simmering, the fatty parts cooked until translucent like amber, the lean meat soaked in the sauce, rich and flavorful. Even as night deepened, the laughter and chatter in the canteen continued unabated; even the sentries on duty received a share, and the entire research institute was enveloped in a rare atmosphere of contentment and joy.

For several days in a row, the researchers had a very lavish diet.

On the third day, while the banquet was still in progress, the top leader of Factory 221—this base with a special mission—visited the research institute.