Reborn in 1950: Shorting the Federal Reserve at the Start

On a winter afternoon in Beihai Park, the sunlight was sparse, but the wind was quite strong.

The lake was covered with a thick layer of ice. Only near the shore, a few holes had been manually cut into the ice to allow water birds a way out.

Shen Jinghong and Lin Qinghan walked side by side under the weeping willows on the riverbank.

Their hands were tucked into Shen Jinghong's coat pockets, their fingers intertwined. Although neither of them spoke, if Marshal Nie saw them, he would be grinning from ear to ear.

However, the atmosphere was somewhat awkwardly strange.

The young couples around were either whispering to each other behind the trees or shyly exchanging scarves while sitting on the bench.

These two were the only ones who stood up straight and walked at a very steady pace, like they were doing morning exercises.

"cough."

Shen Jinghong cleared her throat, thinking that since it was a "date by imperial decree," she should at least find something to talk about.

He looked around and his gaze fell on the ice hole.

A lone wild duck was flapping its wings, creating ripples on the water's surface, which looked quite comical.

"Qinghan, look at that duck." Shen Jinghong stopped and pointed to the water.

Lin Qinghan followed his finger, pushed up her glasses, and her eyes instantly sharpened.

"Yes, I saw it."

She nodded, her tone as serious as if she were analyzing the enemy situation:

"Its stroke frequency is about three times per second. According to Froude number calculations, its current resistance mainly comes from wave-making resistance, rather than frictional resistance."

Shen Jinghong's eyes lit up, as if she had found a kindred spirit.

"That's right! Look at the wavy angle formed at its tail."

He extended his hand, which wasn't in his pocket, and gestured an angle in the air:

"That's a standard Kelvin wave system. Whether it's a duck or an aircraft carrier weighing tens of thousands of tons, as long as it's moving on the water, this angle will always be 19 degrees and 28 minutes."

"That's very interesting."

Shen Jinghong continued with great interest:

"If we could apply this principle of fluid flow to the design of the air intakes for supersonic aircraft, could we further optimize the angle of the shock cone?"

That makes sense.

Lin Qinghan immediately got into the zone. She released Shen Jinghong's hand, picked up a twig, and quickly drew two strokes on the snow by the roadside:

"But you have to take into account the compressibility of air. Water is an incompressible fluid, while the density of air changes dramatically at transonic speeds."

"Look at this variant of the Navier-Stokes equations..."

The two of them squatted by the roadside, facing a wild duck, and began a high-level seminar on fluid mechanics and aerodynamics.

The couples passing by were all stunned.

A stylish young couple walked by. The man was about to recite a poem to the woman, but when he heard the commotion, he was so startled that he couldn't even speak properly.

"Hey, what are those two doing? Drawing talismans?"

"Shh! Keep your voice down!"

The woman tugged at the man's sleeve with a look of awe. "Didn't you hear them talking about 'equations' and 'shock waves'? They must be university professors! They're not from our world!"

Shen Jinghong and Lin Qinghan were completely immersed in their own world.

In their view, this is the most romantic thing in the world.

What's the point of romantic love, or vows of eternal love? Nothing beats the satisfaction of solving a long-standing problem. Nothing beats the thrill of seeing lines on a blueprint become reality.

A cold wind blew by.

A withered yellow willow leaf twirled and drifted down.

Lin Qinghan subconsciously reached out her hand, and the leaf gently landed in her palm.

"Look at these fallen leaves."

She looked at Ye Zi, her eyes unfocused.

"Its trajectory is chaotic and completely unpredictable. It's like the blackout zone when a ballistic missile re-enters the atmosphere, full of unpredictable disturbances."

"It may not be unpredictable."

Shen Jinghong stood up, pulled her up as well, and put her hands back into his pockets to warm them.

"As long as there are enough variables and enough computing power, chaos can be traced."

He looked at Lin Qinghan's profile; the afterglow of the setting sun shone on her face, giving her a golden velvet edge, making her so beautiful that it was impossible to look away.

"For example, the tail fins of a missile."

Shen Jinghong's voice lowered, carrying a hint of sweet talk that only the two of them could understand:

"If we add an actively controlled vernier motor to it, it's like giving a leaf wings."

"That way, no matter how the wind blows, it will land precisely where it's supposed to go."

Just like me.

No matter how much time and space it crosses, no matter how many storms it weathers, it will eventually land precisely beside you.

Lin Qinghan was stunned for a moment.

She turned her head and met Shen Jinghong's burning gaze.

This time, she understood.

There are no formulas, no data.

Only that resonance deep within her soul, like an electric current, instantly pierced her heart.

"Shen Jinghong".

She lowered her head, a shy yet sweet smile playing on her lips, and muttered softly:

"You... you can't even be serious about going on a date."

"I'm innocent!"

Shen Jinghong laughed loudly, startling the duck that was still paddling in the water. "I'm discussing scientific truths with you! This is top secret from our Shenzhou Bureau!"

The two continued walking forward.

Although they were still talking about "power-to-weight ratio" and "specific impulse," their two hands, tightly clasped together, never let go.

In this special era, between this special couple.

This kind of hardcore romance is more real and lasting than any sweet words.

Before we knew it, the sun had already set.

The white pagoda in the distance appeared exceptionally solemn and sacred under the setting sun.

Shen Jinghong stopped in her tracks.

"Sparse and cold".

He called out to her.

"What's wrong?" Lin Qinghan stopped and looked at him with some confusion. "Have you come up with a new idea? About that combustion chamber?"

"It's not a combustion chamber."

Shen Jinghong turned around, her back to the setting sun, and her whole body was bathed in a golden halo.

His expression became more solemn than ever before, even more so than when he made a pledge to Marshal Nie.

"There is something I want to give you."

He rummaged around in his clothes for a long time.

Lin Qinghan's heart skipped a beat.

The scene, the atmosphere, and even the action of taking something out...

Could it be...?

She instinctively held her breath, her cheeks burning, and countless thoughts flashed through her mind.

ring?

He wants to... propose?

Just as she was lost in thought, Shen Jinghong finally pulled his hand out of his pocket.

He opened his palm and offered it to Lin Qinghan.

In that broad palm lay a silvery-white, ring-shaped metal object.

In the setting sun, it shimmered with a cold and precise luster.

It really is a circle.

The size is indeed about the same as a ring.

But Lin Qinghan was stunned after just one glance.

This...this thing is round, but why does it have fine serrations and intricate patterns on it? And the material looks so much like...

"This is……"

Lin Qinghan raised her head and looked at Shen Jinghong with a blank expression.

Shen Jinghong grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, his tone brimming with a smug, almost boastful, pride:

"This is the inner ring of the core bearing of our first domestically produced turbojet engine."

"I spun this myself, with a precision of 0.001 micrometers—it's the only one of its kind in the world!"

He picked up the "ring," looking at Lin Qinghan with fervent eyes, as if he were holding a priceless diamond ring.

"Qinghan, do you like this gift?"