Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

March 20, 1950, Beiping (Beijing).

The locust flowers in the sea are in full bloom, their delicate white blossoms carpeting half the courtyard.

Leader Zhou stood under the corridor, holding a newly delivered telegram, but didn't rush to read it.

The secretary whispered a reminder: "Sir, Comrade Zhao Ping'an has arrived."

Leader Zhou turned around.

Zhao Ping'an stood at the entrance of the courtyard, looking travel-worn.

He was wearing a winter military uniform, the cuffs of which were worn white.

The leather shoes were covered in black soil—the black soil from the Songnen Plain, which hardens into clumps after drying and cannot be knocked off.

Leader Zhou glanced at him for two seconds.

"You've lost weight."

"I haven't lost weight," Zhao Pingan said. "I've just gotten a tan."

Leader Zhou didn't argue with him. He pointed into the room: "Come in. Comrade Chen and everyone else have been waiting for you for a while."

There were only a few people sitting in the conference room, but Zhao Ping'an recognized the comrade sitting at the head of the left side at a glance.

Comrade Chen, Director of the Finance Committee.

A thick stack of documents lay before him, and he held a pen in his hand, checking something line by line.

When Zhao Pingan came in, he looked up and took off his reading glasses.

"Comrade Ping An." He nodded, and without further ado, got straight to the point.

"I've read your report on the Northeast Reclamation Area three times."

He pushed the document forward.

"702 billion jin. Are you sure about this figure?"

Zhao Ping'an sat down opposite him.

"Confirmed," he said. "Of the 10.8 million mu planted before May last year, most were corn, with a yield of 2000 jin per mu."

The 16.2 million mu (approximately 1.1 million hectares) planted after May yielded potatoes with a yield of 3000 jin (approximately 1,500 catties) per mu. The total yield for both seasons was 702 billion jin (approximately 35.6 million tons).

Chen Yun didn't speak immediately. He tapped the table lightly with the cap of his pen, once, twice, three times.

"We started clearing the land in March last year and harvested the first crop in October," he said. "Seven months."

From barren land to 70 billion jin of grain.

He looked at Zhao Ping'an.

"How did you do that?"

Zhao Pingan pushed over a prepared briefing.

"17,000 tractors and more than 30,000 sets of supporting agricultural machinery."

Improved seeds, fertilizers, and pesticides are all sourced through distribution channels.

The technical personnel underwent continuous training for six months, and the first batch of 93,000 disabled veterans took up their posts.

The second phase of the Xinjiang Production and Construction Corps comprised 15 professional soldiers.

Zhao Pingan paused for a moment.

"Also, the Northeast is indeed a good place."

Chen Yun looked down at the briefing. He read it slowly, carefully examining each page.

The pen cap was still tapping lightly on the table, but the rhythm had changed; it was no longer rapid, but rather a steady, deep tap.

After a while, he took off his glasses and slowly wiped them with a cloth.

"Comrade Ping An," he said, "do you know what the total national grain output was last year?"

Zhao Ping'an knew. But he didn't say anything.

"Less than 230 billion jin," Chen Yun said. "You worked in Northeast China for seven months, and that's 70 billion jin. Even according to your calculation, if you include potatoes as a side dish and convert them to grain at 50%..."

The national per capita grain intake has also increased by nearly 100 jin (50 kg) out of thin air.

He put his glasses back on.

"This is not an agricultural achievement. This is a strategic achievement."

After reporting on the grain, Zhao Ping'an opened the second document.

Production Briefing of Northeast Industrial Base, January-April 1950

"Steel," he said. "Ansteel produced 487 million tons of steel in the first quarter. In April alone, it exceeded 170 million tons."

Chen Yun paused for a moment, his hand holding the pen still.

170 million tons. In 1949, national steel production excluding Northeast China was 15.8 tons. This comparison needs no explanation.

"Seamless steel pipes," Zhao Ping'an continued. "First-quarter production was 38 tons. Of that, 1.2 tons were for gun barrels—theoretically enough to manufacture 6000 million rifle barrels. Currently, due to the assembly capacity of gun factories, we can't actually use it all."

"Automobiles. Changchun FAW, Jiefang brand trucks. A total of 3.7 vehicles have rolled off the production line."

30% of the car engines are produced by the Changchun Engine Plant, and it is expected that complete domestic production will be achieved after production increases by the end of the year.

"Tanks. Type 59 tanks, with a total production of 620 vehicles. Three armored divisions and five independent armored regiments were formed."

"airplane--"

He pulled out a single sheet of paper.

"Type 1 fighter jet, with a total production of 147 aircraft. Equipped the first combat unit of the Air Force."

Chen Yun raised his head.

"What about Type 2?"

Zhao Pingan pushed the telegram onto the table.

The Type 2 jet fighter completed its 100th takeoff and landing test at 9:17 a.m. today.

All performance indicators meet the standards; mass production is recommended.

"It took its maiden flight last October," Zhao Pingan said. "It was finalized in November, small-batch trial production began in December, and mass production started this January. To date, a total of 17 aircraft have rolled off the production line."

Zhao Pingan paused for a moment.

"Maximum speed is 1070 kilometers per hour. It is 100 kilometers faster than the US's current mainstay F-80."

The chief of staff, who was standing nearby, took the telegram and read it for a long time.

"oil."

Zhao Pingan turned to the next page.

"Daqing Oilfield has completed drilling 47 production wells. The Sartu main block has achieved a daily crude oil production of over 3000 tons."

"The supporting refinery has an annual processing capacity of 100 million tons. Gasoline and diesel have initially achieved self-sufficiency in Northeast China. Since March of this year, armored corps training has no longer relied on delivered fuel."

Chen's pen stopped on the notebook.

"Electricity. The total installed capacity of the Northeast Power Grid is 18000 megawatts."

The original plan for the Northeast power project was a total capacity of 2450 megawatts.

He paused.

"It's now 7.3 times."

"Coal. The seven major mining areas of Fushun, Fuxin, and Hegang have completed the transformation to fully mechanized mining."

Monthly raw coal production has exceeded 800 million tons. Northeast China is now completely self-sufficient in coal for industrial use.

Chen took off his glasses and placed them on the table.

He was silent for a long time.

"Comrade Ping An," he said, his voice lower than before.

"I've noted down everything you just said. But I have a question—"

He looked at Zhao Ping'an.

"Did you conjure all these things up overnight, or did you accumulate them little by little?"

Zhao Ping'an also remained silent for a while.

"I saved it up little by little," he said.

Are you tired?

Zhao Ping'an did not answer.

Chen Yun didn't press the matter. He put his glasses back on and continued reading the documents.

The meeting continued into the afternoon.

Zhao Ping'an included Northeast China's industry, Daqing Oilfield, power grid, machinery manufacturing, national defense and military industry, talent training...

One by one, the items were laid out on the table like a stall.

Chen listened attentively from beginning to end, asking very detailed questions.

What is the current monthly production volume of five-axis machine tools?

"50 units. The localization rate is 65%, but the control system still needs to be imported."

When will the fertilizer plant be able to operate at full capacity?

"The Jilin Chemical Plant line will be completed by the end of June. The Lanzhou Chemical Plant line will be completed in August."

Chen Yun nodded and wrote a few lines in his notebook.

After reporting the last number, Zhao Pingan closed the folder.

Chen Yun leaned back in his chair, took off his glasses, and slowly wiped them.

The fragrance of locust blossoms wafted in through the window, and dusk was beginning to settle in the courtyard.

"Comrade Ping An," he said, "I will verify these figures one by one when I get back."

It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I need to live within my means and make corresponding plans at the meeting to support the whole country.

Therefore, I must be responsible for every pound of grain and every ton of steel.

Zhao Ping'an nodded.

"Of course."

It was already dark when Zhao Pingan walked out of the conference room.

I followed Leader Zhou to his office.

"Comrade Ping An."

"exist."

702 billion jin of grain. 170 million tons of steel. 147 jet aircraft.

620 tanks. 3.7 vehicles. 3000 tons of oil produced daily.

He read the numbers out one by one, his voice very soft.

"At this time last year, Northeast China was still a pile of ruins."

He looked at Zhao Ping'an.

"Have you had a tough year?"

"Leader, isn't this serving the people?" Zhao Ping'an replied with a smile, but his words were sincere.

Although he was just a nobody in his past life, in this life, thanks to the system, he can now proudly proclaim, "This is what a true man should be like."

Leader Zhou did not ask any further questions.

"Leader Zhou, if there's nothing else, I'll head back to the guesthouse now." After a while, seeing his leader looking rather dazed, Zhao Ping'an put down his teacup.

"So early?"

"There's another batch of equipment to be inspected in Shenyang tomorrow morning. I have to catch my train tonight."

Leader Zhou looked at him for a long time before speaking.

"Thanks for your hard work!"

Zhao Ping'an thought for a moment, then continued joking, "I'm just missing the canteens in Northeast China, boss. If you ask me, our canteens here should learn from those in the Northeast..."

"Comrade Ping An, you go ahead." Leader Zhou smiled and pointed at Zhao Ping An. "The car is waiting outside."

When Zhao Ping'an stepped out of the sea, the streetlights had already come on.

The driver opened the car door.

"Sir, shall we go to the train station?"

"Um."

The car entered Chang'an Avenue. The locust trees along the street swayed gently in the night breeze, and waves of fragrance wafted into the car windows.

Zhao Pingan leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

He remembered the winter of 1948. He was lying in bed when the system notification sounded for the first time, and he thought he was hallucinating from hunger.

He is now reporting his work from the sea.

702 billion jin of grain.

170 million tons of steel.

147 fighter jets and 17 jet aircraft.

620 tanks.

That silent steel sphere, slowly taking shape deep in the Gobi Desert.

And there's the impending war to establish the nation!