Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

The doors and windows of the conference room were tightly closed.

The strong smell of tobacco mixed with the smell of chalk dust swirled under the orange light, making one's throat dry.

This is no meeting room; it's clearly a frontline command post filled with the smoke of battle.

However, the weapons here are an abacus, a slide rule, and that blackboard that's already overflowing.

"Da, da, da."

Shen Jinghong's chalk flew across the blackboard, producing a rapid and crisp sound, like a machine gun firing in bursts.

White lines intertwined on the blackboard, outlining an extremely strange fuselage curve.

"This is the key to breaking the sound barrier."

Shen Jinghong abruptly stopped writing, turned around to look at the room full of top minds with furrowed brows, her voice slightly hoarse from explaining for so long:

"Transonic area ratio".

"By narrowing the middle of the fuselage to a 'wasp waist' shape, we can significantly reduce wave drag during transonic flight. Combined with an all-moving horizontal stabilizer, this can completely solve the control reaction problem during high-speed dives."

silence.

A deathly silence.

Apart from the occasional sound of Qian Jishi's pen scratching across the paper, the only other sound in the room was heavy breathing.

All of you here are leading figures in the Chinese physics community.

However, in the specific subfield of aerospace engineering, especially in the field of jet supersonic technology, they are still completely blank.

Back then, while we were still figuring out how to increase the speed of propeller planes, Shen Jinghong directly brought up the concept of "transonic flow field," which would be introduced decades later.

It's like suddenly introducing calculus to a group of elementary school students who are still doing arithmetic.

"Um... Engineer Shen."

An elderly professor with thick-rimmed glasses and gray hair finally couldn't hold back any longer.

His name is Wu Zhonghua, a master of thermal physics, but at this moment he looks like a primary school student who has encountered a problem, holding up a draft paper in his hand, his face full of confusion and self-doubt.

"Your 'wasp waist' theory... I've never seen it in Soviet textbooks before. According to basic fluid mechanics, shouldn't the fuselage be as streamlined as possible? Why the sudden contraction?"

"Yes, Engineer Shen."

Another structural expert took off his glasses, rubbing his throbbing temples. "And that 'aeroelastic divergence'—can our current aluminum alloy skin withstand that much torque? If this plane takes off, won't it disintegrate in mid-air?"

Questions and criticisms arose one after another.

It wasn't that they didn't believe Shen Jinghong; it was just that his theories were too advanced and too revolutionary.

This is practically an enigmatic book.

Lin Qinghan sat in the corner, watching Shen Jinghong being besieged by a group of senior experts, and her palms were sweating with worry for him.

If this cannot be explained, "Project 501" will be grounded before it even takes off.

"Everyone, please don't panic."

Shen Jinghong did not panic.

He precisely tossed the remaining half of the chalk into the chalk holder, patted the dust off his hands, and gave a patient smile typical of a schoolteacher.

"Theory is too dry, let's do something more intuitive."

He picked up an empty glass of water from the table, and then picked up a teapot lid next to it.

"Let's say this cup represents air, and this lid represents an airplane."

Shen Jinghong placed the teapot lid on the rim of the cup and pressed it down.

"When an airplane is moving slowly, the air is 'soft,' and it will obediently give way. But when the speed approaches the speed of sound, the air becomes 'hard,' like a wall."

"If our fuselage were a straight cylinder, a collision would be a head-on collision, with drag so great it could tear the plane apart."

As he spoke, he gestured a graceful gourd-shaped curve in the air with his hands:

"But if we narrow the waist, making room for the compressed air, allowing the airflow to glide along this 'wasp waist'..."

Shen Jinghong's eyes lit up, and he thrust his right hand forward sharply, making a breakthrough gesture:

"The wall broke down!"

"This is the area ratio!"

boom!

It was as if a bolt of lightning had ripped through the night sky.

Everyone present was exceptionally intelligent. They had been trapped by old ways of thinking, but now, with Shen Jinghong's insightful and simple explanation, that barrier had been instantly broken.

"Brilliant!"

Professor Wu Zhonghua slapped his thigh suddenly, his beard trembling with excitement. "Make room for the air! How could I not have thought of that! Isn't this a variant of the law of conservation of energy in thermodynamics?"

"Yes, yes, yes! The same principle applies to a fully-moving horizontal tail!"

The structural experts also realized what was happening and frantically started calculating on paper: "If the tail fin can rotate as a whole, the lever arm will change, increasing handling efficiency by at least three times!"

"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

The atmosphere in the conference room instantly transformed from somber to enthusiastic.

What was originally an incomprehensible book has become a ladder to the truth.

The experts' eyes gleamed with a thirst for knowledge as they pointed and argued heatedly around the formula on the blackboard, their faces flushed, wishing they could rush into the laboratory right now to verify it.

Qian Jishi sat in the head seat, watching this scene, and smiled with satisfaction.

He turned to look at Shen Jinghong, his eyes full of admiration.

This young man not only possesses technical skills, but also the ability to simplify complex problems. This is a true leader.

"Jinghong, you've passed the theoretical hurdle."

Qian Jishi tapped the table, signaling everyone to quiet down. "However, there's a very real problem you must solve."

The noise from the crowd gradually subsided.

An elderly man who had been silent and thin stood up.

He is Li Xun, a leading metallurgical expert in China.

Looking at the perfect airplane sketch on the blackboard, and then at Shen Jinghong, Old Li's face showed no joy, but rather deep worry.

"Engineer Shen, your design is indeed perfect, and your theory is impeccable."

Old Li sighed, his voice as heavy as lead:

"However, even a skilled cook can't make a meal without rice."

He pointed to the location of the engine turbine blades on the blueprint, his fingers trembling slightly.

"The core temperature of this J47 engine exceeds 1,000 degrees Celsius, and the speed is tens of thousands of revolutions per minute. Under these conditions, our existing domestic steel will soften like noodles in less than five seconds."

"The fuselage skin needs to withstand the impact of supersonic shock waves, requiring high-strength aerospace-grade aluminum alloys. But our current aluminum plants can't even gather enough aluminum to make a washbasin, let alone this kind of special alloy."

Old Li's words were like a bucket of ice water poured over a newly ignited fire.

The meeting room fell silent once again.

Yes.

We have the blueprints and the theory is clear, but what about the materials?

That's the lifeblood of industry, the very foundation. Western countries imposed the strictest blockade on us; let alone special alloys, even a single qualified seamless steel pipe was difficult to obtain.

Without the materials, the blueprints are just waste paper, and the supersonic fighter jet remains just a dream.

Everyone's eyes dimmed, revealing a deep sense of powerlessness.

"Material?"

Amidst the sighs and lamentations, Shen Jinghong's voice suddenly rang out.

Relaxed, casual, even with a hint of...playfulness?

He looked at Old Li, then at the despairing experts in the room, a slight smile playing on his lips. He reached into his pocket (actually his system space) and pulled out a thick notebook wrapped in oil paper.

"Snapped!"

He gently patted the notebook on the table in front of Old Li.

"Mr. Li, look at this, is it enough for us to cook a pot of 'rice'?"

Old Li picked up the notebook with a puzzled look and turned to the first page.

I only glanced at it.

The old man, who had spent his entire life working with steel, widened his eyes instantly, and his hand, which was used to holding crucible tongs, trembled as if he were having a Parkinson's attack.

"This...this is..."

He suddenly looked up, staring intently at Shen Jinghong, his voice sharp and distorted:

"A nickel-based superalloy formula?! And a rhenium-containing fourth-generation formula?!"

"It's not just about the recipe."

Shen Jinghong pushed up his glasses, smiling like Doraemon with a magic pocket, his calm tone making you want to punch him:

"Following that, there's the vacuum melting process, the temperature control curve for heat treatment, and... the makeshift method of using our few broken furnaces to smelt special steel."

"No doubt about it."

He spread his arms wide, surveyed the entire room, exuding an aura of dominance:

"What the US has, we have. What the US doesn't have, we also have."

"Ingredients? I have the recipe ready. Plenty!"