Rejecting Tsinghua and Peking Universities: I Will Lead Harbin Institute of Technology to World Lead

When Mr. Zheng hung up the phone, his palms were sweaty.

It wasn't nervousness, it was excitement.

The seventeen experts in the conference room were still waiting there, all staring at him. Outside the window, the night in the Gobi Desert was as dark as ink, but the conference room lights were as bright as day.

"About Old Chen," Old Zheng took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly, "report to the highest levels immediately."

Those few simple words made everyone present hold their breath.

Reporting to the highest levels—everyone knows what that means. It's no longer an academic discussion, no longer a feasibility study, but a manifestation of the national will, a strategic project that the entire nation must dedicate its resources to complete.

Academician Liu was the first to stand up. This nearly eighty-year-old expert stood ramrod straight: "Old Zheng, what do you need us to do?"

"Wait," Old Zheng said, using only one word. "Wait for approval, wait for resources, wait for... orders."

He turned to Lin Feng: "Comrade Lin Feng, you will stay at the base for the next few days. Don't go anywhere, and be on standby at any time."

"Yes." Lin Feng nodded.

Three days is neither a long nor a short time.

But for those at the base, every minute was agonizing. The experts didn't leave; they voluntarily stayed in the conference room, repeatedly studying the materials provided by Lin Feng, discussing every technical detail, and anticipating every possible problem.

Lin Feng was assigned to a secret dormitory deep inside the base.

The room was simple: a bed, a table, and an encrypted phone. The window faced the Gobi Desert, offering a wide view and allowing one to see the lights of the test track burning day and night in the distance.

He was not idle.

Consciousness sank into the system simulation space to continue the two unfinished research projects—

On the left is a diagram of the neural network architecture of the Pangu artificial intelligence, with billions of nodes twinkling like a galaxy; on the right is a simulation of the magnetic field configuration of the Nuwa controllable nuclear fusion device, with plasma rotating like blue flames.

Multitasking and advancing simultaneously.

In the field of artificial intelligence, he optimized the convergence speed of deep learning algorithms, improving training efficiency by 300%; in the field of controlled nuclear fusion, he found a new magnetic field configuration that increased the plasma confinement time from 500 seconds to 800 seconds.

In real time, three days.

In the simulation space, he performed more than 100,000 iterations.

Late on the third night, the encrypted phone rang.

Old Zheng's voice came through the receiver, concise and powerful: "Come to the conference room."

When Lin Feng arrived, the conference room was full of people. Not only the seventeen experts from before, but also military representatives from the base, logistics managers, coordinators from various subsystems... a total of more than fifty people.

All eyes were on Old Zheng.

Old Zheng stood before the main seat, holding a newly declassified official document. The cover of the document was printed with the words "Top Secret" in bright red and a series of complex numbers.

"Comrades," Old Zheng's voice was a little hoarse with excitement, "the highest approval has come down."

He opened the document and read it aloud, word by word:

"After careful consideration, it has been decided to formally approve the Zhuque sixth-generation fighter jet project, codenamed 'Sky Dome.' It has been designated as a national top-level strategic project, given the highest priority, and all necessary resources have been mobilized."

The conference room was deathly silent.

Then came suppressed cheers. Some clenched their fists, some had tears in their eyes, and some lowered their heads to wipe away tears.

Mr. Zheng continued reading:

Chief Designer of the Project: Lin Feng.

Deputy Chief Designer: Zheng Guohua

Project duration: three years.

He paused here, then looked at Lin Feng: "Comrade Lin Feng, please step forward."

Lin Feng walked to the main seat.

Old Zheng handed him the official document: "This is an order, but also a sign of trust."

Lin Feng took the document. The paper was light, but it felt incredibly heavy in his hand.

He turned around and faced everyone in the conference room.

More than fifty pairs of eyes were on him—there were white-haired academicians, energetic engineers, and soldiers with resolute gazes.

"Dear seniors and comrades," Lin Feng's voice was calm, but every word clearly reached everyone's ears, "Let's work together for the next three years."

There were no grand pronouncements, no exciting promises.

It's just a very simple sentence.

But that one sentence is enough.

A round of applause filled the conference room.

It wasn't a warm, excited applause, but a heavy, powerful applause. Like war drums, like bugles, like a declaration from this ancient people to the heavens.

The next day, the base was fully operational.

The security level was raised to the highest level, with triple guard posts added to all entrances and exits, and the communication system fully encrypted. Experts and engineers from all over the country began to arrive one after another—including top teams from the Aviation Industry Corporation of China, key personnel from the Materials Research Institute, professors from the University of Electronic Science and Technology of China, and familiar faces transferred from the Kunpeng Base.

Academician Zhou also came.

This aircraft carrier hull expert was temporarily reassigned to oversee the structural materials for the Vermilion Bird. Seeing Lin Feng, he patted the young man's shoulder forcefully: "Little Feng, we're fighting side-by-side again."

The massive factory building in the center of the base was cleared out and transformed into the final assembly workshop for the Vermilion Bird. All the equipment was in place within three days—a five-axis CNC machine tool, a 3D metal printing machine, a composite material autoclave, a wind tunnel testing rig…

Everything is progressing at an incredible speed.

Lin Feng became the busiest person.

He only slept three hours a day, spending the rest of his time in the workshop and laboratory. From wind tunnel testing of aeroelasticity to bench testing of engines; from the application process of stealth coatings to the code debugging of avionics systems…

When problems arise, he is always the first to arrive and the last to leave.

On one occasion, the variable cycle engine experienced abnormal vibrations during testing, and the cause could not be found for three consecutive days. Lin Feng stayed by the test stand for seventy-two hours and finally discovered that the machining accuracy of an oil passage hole with a diameter of only 0.5 millimeters was off by 3 micrometers.

"This level of precision," Chief Engineer Wang said with a wry smile, looking at the test report, "is simply beyond the capabilities of our current processing equipment."

"Then build a new one," Lin Feng said, uttering only one sentence.

A week later, an ultra-high precision five-axis machine tool was urgently transported from Shenyang, specifically for processing the core components of the engine.

Time flies by in the midst of busyness.

Winter has arrived in the Gobi Desert. The biting wind whips up sand and dust, which crackles against the factory walls. But inside the workshop, everything is bustling with activity—sparks fly, machine tools hum, and engineers' discussions rise and fall.

In early spring, the nose section of the Zhuque was the first to be assembled.

It was a streamlined, futuristic cone, with a one-piece canopy resembling a giant teardrop. Academician Liu stroked the smooth surface, his eyes welling with tears: "My life... has been worthwhile."

When summer arrives, the wings and fuselage will be fully connected.

The massive fuselage frame slowly came together inside the factory, like a sleeping steel giant. Workers climbed the scaffolding to carry out the final riveting and welding. The setting sun slanted in through the factory windows, gilding the metal surfaces with a layer of gold.

But problems arose at this point.

In early July, the powertrain group submitted an emergency report.

Chief Engineer Wang's face was grim: "Lin Feng, the engine's thrust... does not meet the design specifications."

The atmosphere in the meeting room was heavy.

"The theoretical thrust is 28 tons, but the actual bench test only yielded 22 tons." Chief Engineer Wang pointed to the curve on the screen. "It's not a design problem, it's a material problem—the turbine inlet temperature can only reach 1900K, which is 300K lower than the design value. If the temperature can't be raised, the thrust can't be raised."

"What are the limits of existing materials?" Lin Feng asked.

"2000K," the head of the materials team replied. "We've tried all the high-temperature alloys, including the latest single-crystal blades. 2000K is the limit; any higher and creep and oxidation will occur."

Lin Feng stared at the data in silence.

He knew where the problem lay—the design of the Vermilion Bird was too advanced, and its power requirements exceeded the limits of current materials science. Just like the technological barriers the Kunpeng had encountered.

"Is there a solution?" Old Zheng asked in a deep voice.

There was silence in the conference room.

After a long silence, Chief Engineer Wang said with difficulty, "Unless... there is a completely new power source."

"What power source?"

"Nuclear power," Chief Designer Wang uttered three words. "Only miniaturized nuclear fusion reactors can provide sufficiently powerful and sustained energy. But..."

He didn't continue.

But everyone knows that controlled nuclear fusion is a dream even more distant than a sixth-generation fighter jet. The Free Nation has invested hundreds of billions of dollars, and decades later, there's still no sign of commercialization.

An atmosphere of despair began to spread in the conference room.

After half a year of hard work and the efforts of tens of thousands of people, are we going to let it all fall apart because of a lack of motivation?

Just then, Lin Feng spoke up.

His voice was calm, as if he were talking about something trivial:

"I should have a way to solve controlled nuclear fusion."

Everyone looked up abruptly.