Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

Deep in the Yanshan Mountains late at night, the wind grew stronger.

The howling north wind, like a pack of hungry wolves, roared wildly around the newly established secret base, banging against the windows with a loud "bang".

But the director's office, which wasn't very spacious, was as warm as springtime.

The coal stove was burning brightly, and the red glow of the fire reflected on the wall, giving the cold mechanical blueprints on the wall a gentle, warm hue.

Shen Jinghong lay sprawled on the large drawing table, three pencils in her hand already worn down.

"No, it still won't work."

Frustrated, he crumpled a freshly drawn sketch into a ball and tossed it into the pile of waste paper that had already formed a small mountain at his feet.

"The original design of the J47 engine was too precise, especially the layout of the fuel injectors in the annular combustion chamber. With the precision of our outdated machine tools today, we simply couldn't machine that tolerance."

Shen Jinghong rubbed her temples, feeling as if hundreds of bees were buzzing in her head.

This is the hardest part of "copying homework".

You know the answer is 100, and you know how to write the process, but the pen in your hand is no good; the characters you write are either crooked or the ink breaks.

"Gurgle—"

Just as he was worrying about the blueprints, his stomach suddenly made a loud, untimely noise, which was particularly embarrassing in the quiet of the night.

Shen Jinghong gave a wry smile and touched her deflated belly.

When I'm busy, I don't even feel it, but as soon as I stop, that burning hunger in my stomach comes rushing back instantly.

"Click".

A soft sound came from behind.

The figure who had been quietly organizing files in the corner walked over.

Lin Qinghan was holding two aluminum military mess kits in her hands, with steam still rising from the lids.

I knew you'd be hungry.

She placed the lunchbox in a cleared corner of the table, her voice soft and gentle, lacking the daytime chill, and instead carrying a comforting warmth.

"The head chef at the cafeteria has already left work. This is something I specially saved for you for dinner. It's been kept warm by the stove, so it's not cold yet."

Shen Jinghong sniffed.

A rich aroma of meat instantly filled his nostrils, making his mouth water.

"Braised pork?"

His eyes lit up, and without any hesitation, he reached out and lifted the lid.

Sure enough, a layer of glistening, red braised pork was laid on top of the white rice, accompanied by potato chunks that had soaked up all the broth.

"Only Steward Lin truly understands me!"

Shen Jinghong grabbed her chopsticks, picked up a piece of meat, and stuffed it into her mouth.

Rich but not greasy, it melts in your mouth.

In that instant, the satisfaction brought by carbohydrates and fats was even more pleasurable than solving a calculus problem.

"Eat slowly, no one's going to take it from you."

Lin Qinghan sat down opposite him, holding another lunchbox in her hand. Her manners were refined and elegant, a stark contrast to Shen Jinghong's ravenous appearance.

She watched Shen Jinghong wolf down his food, a barely perceptible pang of heartache flashing in her eyes.

This man is only twenty-four years old.

At an age when they should be enjoying their prime and living life to the fullest, they now have to shoulder the heavy responsibility of the entire nation.

"You should eat too, don't just watch me."

With her mouth full, Shen Jinghong mumbled, then casually placed the largest piece of lean meat into Lin Qinghan's bowl. "You're too thin, you need to eat more. Otherwise, how will you outwit a capitalist like me?"

"Who's fighting with you?"

Lin Qinghan rolled her eyes at him, but didn't put the meat back. Instead, she lowered her head and took small bites.

"By the way, Qinghan."

Shen Jinghong swallowed the food in her mouth, pointed to the blueprints on the table, and frowned again. "What do you think of that combustion chamber problem?"

This is their unique way of getting along.

Even during meals, even in such warm and intimate moments, the conversation still revolves around those cold, hard data and blueprints.

Because they know that these things are more beautiful than sweet words and more romantic than flowers.

Lin Qinghan put down his chopsticks, picked up the blueprint, pushed up his glasses, and his gaze instantly became professional and sharp.

She picked up a pencil and quickly wrote down an equation in one corner of the drawing.

"Actually, our thinking may have led us into a dead end."

She pointed to the fuel injector structure that was giving Shen Jinghong a headache:

"Why do we insist on pursuing the original atomization efficiency? If it's to meet our machining precision requirements, why can't we increase the injection pressure by 15% and then enlarge the nozzle orifice diameter by 0.05 millimeters?"

"Enlarge the aperture?"

Shen Jinghong was taken aback, her chopsticks stopping in mid-air. "That will cause incomplete combustion and increase fuel consumption."

"That's right, fuel consumption will increase by about 3%."

Lin Qinghan calmly analyzed, drawing a beautiful curve on the paper with the tip of his pen, "However, according to Bernoulli's equation in fluid mechanics, increasing the pressure can compensate for the atomization effect. Although a little range is sacrificed, the yield rate can be increased from the current 20% to 85%."

"For us now, it's more important to build it first than to build it perfectly."

boom!

A word to awaken the dreamer.

Shen Jinghong abruptly put down her lunchbox, grabbed the draft paper, stared at the calculations on it, her eyes widening, and finally slapped her thigh:

"Genius! Qinghan, you are truly a genius!"

"That's the art of compromise! Trading a minor loss in tactical performance for a huge victory in strategic production! How could I have gotten so fixated on that?"

He was so excited that he lost his composure, and even couldn't help but reach out and grab Lin Qinghan's hand, shaking it vigorously:

"This one change will allow our engine to roll off the production line at least two months ahead of schedule! Lin Qinghan, you've done a tremendous job!"

Lin Qinghan's hand was held by him, and the burning heat of his palm came from her palm.

Her face flushed instantly, and she instinctively wanted to pull her hand back, but she was also reluctant to part with that warmth.

"Alright, let's eat. It won't taste good if it gets cold."

She lowered her head, using the act of shoveling rice into her mouth to conceal the panic and sweetness in her eyes.

As the ancients said, "A beautiful woman adds fragrance to the night while reading."

Now we're using braised pork as a flavoring ingredient for scientific research.

This is probably the ultimate romance for STEM men and women.

After finishing his meal, Shen Jinghong plunged back into the pile of blueprints, recalculating the data according to Lin Qinghan's previous line of thought.

Lin Qinghan packed up her lunchbox and didn't disturb him. Instead, she sat quietly beside him, helping him organize the scattered documents or sharpening his pencils.

Time passed by, second by second.

The clock on the wall pointed to 2 a.m.

Shen Jinghong finally put down his pen.

After that intense mental work, exhaustion washed over him like a tidal wave. He slumped onto the table, intending only to take a nap, but his eyelids drooped and he fell asleep instantly.

Hearing his even breathing, Lin Qinghan stopped what she was doing.

She turned around and looked at the man who was fast asleep, slumped over a pile of blueprints.

At this moment, he had let down all his guard and pretense, his brows relaxed, and a faint smile lingered on his lips, like an exhausted big boy.

Only at this moment was he not the shrewd and resourceful director of the China National Nuclear Corporation, nor the "ghost" that Americans hated to the core.

He was just Shen Jinghong.

"fool."

Lin Qinghan murmured softly, her eyes filled with tenderness.

She stood up, tiptoed to the clothes rack, and took down the thick military overcoat.

Walking behind Shen Jinghong, she carefully draped her coat over his shoulders, her movements as gentle as if she were protecting a fragile treasure.

As she tucked his shirt in, her fingers inadvertently brushed against his cheek.

Slightly cool.

Lin Qinghan's finger paused for a moment, and then, as if possessed, did not move it away immediately.

Looking at that face so close to hers, her heart suddenly started racing.

This feeling is unfamiliar, yet wonderful.

Just like that night when he handed her the F-86 blueprints while she was adrift at sea.

That's trust, reliance, and also...

"Ring ring—!!!"

It was in this warm and tranquil moment, with pink bubbles filling the air.

The red secure phone on the table suddenly rang without warning.

The urgent, piercing ringing sounded like an air raid siren in the quiet of the night, instantly shattering all the romance.

Shen Jinghong suddenly woke up from her dream, her body springing up almost reflexively. The confusion in her eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by a sharp look as if she were facing a formidable enemy.

"What's wrong?!"

He grabbed the receiver, his voice as cold as ice.

Lin Qinghan was also startled and quickly took a step back, reverting to her capable and confidential secretary demeanor, her hand already on the holster at her waist.

On the other end of the phone came the suppressed but urgent roar of Chen Weiguo, the head of the security department, with the static of a radio crackling in the background.

"Chief! Something's happened!"

"Our radio monitoring team has just intercepted a group of unusually active encrypted radio waves!"

"The signal source is inside Beijing! The frequency is extremely high, the highest-level frequency band used exclusively by the Kuomintang's Bureau of Investigation and Statistics!"

Shen Jinghong's fingers tightened suddenly around the receiver, her knuckles turning white.

"Has the content been deciphered?"

"Part of it has been deciphered!"

Chen Weiguo's voice was filled with murderous intent, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth:

"Code name 'Viper.' The message consists of only one sentence—"

"Target confirmed. Location locked: China National Security Bureau. Target: That young scholar who just returned from abroad!"

"They...are about to make their move!"