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

"Can you solve this?"

Chief Engineer Wang's voice echoed in the conference room, carrying an almost trembling shock.

This elderly man, who has spent his entire life working with engines, knows all too well what controlled nuclear fusion means—it's not just a scientific question, but the ultimate challenge for engineering, materials science, and plasma physics. The world's top laboratories, with astronomical sums of money invested, haven't even broken even the break-even point in decades.

Now, a young man in his twenties casually says: "It's possible to solve it."

In the conference room, all eyes were on Lin Feng.

Those gazes held shock, doubt, expectation, and an instinctive resistance to the impossibility.

Lin Feng remained calm despite the stares he received.

"We just have some ideas," he corrected Chief Engineer Wang, "but we can't be 100% sure yet. But... it's worth a try."

He spoke cautiously, but those who know him understand that when Lin Feng says it's worth a try, it usually means there's a success rate of over 60%.

Old Zheng slowly stood up.

He didn't look at Lin Feng, but instead glanced around at the experts in the conference room who seemed hesitant to speak.

"Now that Comrade Lin Feng has a plan," Old Zheng's voice was steady and powerful, "we'll leave the power direction to him. The rest of you, continue working on your respective subsystems. The Vermilion Bird project can't stop, and we can't wait."

He paused, then looked at Lin Feng: "What kind of support do you need?"

"I need to leave for a while," Lin Feng said directly. "The research direction of controlled nuclear fusion is completely different from that of fighter jets. I need the assistance of experts from other fields, as well as data support at the national level."

"how long?"

"I'm not sure," Lin Feng said honestly, "but I'll do it as soon as possible."

Old Zheng was silent for a few seconds, then nodded emphatically: "Okay. I'll personally oversee the sixth-generation fighter jet. Except for the power source, I'll ensure that all other subsystems proceed according to schedule."

He walked up to Lin Feng and patted the young man on the shoulder forcefully: "Go for it. If you need anything, just contact me or Old Chen."

"Thank you, Mr. Zheng."

That afternoon, Lin Feng left the Northwest Base.

The winds and sands of the Gobi Desert remain, but this time, his feelings about leaving are completely different. He came with a dream of owning an airplane; he needs to take back a "sun" with him when he leaves.

Zhao Weiguo drove him to the airport. Neither of them spoke on the way. Outside the car window, the desolate scenery rushed past, the distant horizon distorted by the heat.

It was late at night when the plane landed in Beijing.

Professor Chen personally waited for them at the airport—this was unusual, but it was enough to show how urgent the situation was. The two did not exchange pleasantries, and after getting in the car, they went straight to the Chinese Academy of Sciences.

"What are the specifics?" Old Chen asked in the car, "How serious is it exactly?"

"The Vermilion Bird's power system can only provide 78% of the theoretical thrust using current materials," Lin Feng said quickly. "To achieve the design specifications, the turbine inlet temperature needs to be increased by another 300K. This exceeds the tolerance range of all current high-temperature alloys."

Old Chen frowned deeply: "So we have to change the power source?"

"Yes." Lin Feng nodded. "Chief Engineer Wang calculated that only miniaturized nuclear fusion reactors can provide sufficient and sustained energy density. Moreover..."

He paused for a moment: "Nuclear fusion produces no exhaust fumes and has no infrared signature, which is more advantageous for stealth."

Old Chen took a deep breath.

He knew, of course, what this meant—a sixth-generation fighter jet that required no aerial refueling, could cruise indefinitely, and was completely stealthy. That would be the absolute ruler of the skies.

But the problem is...

"Controlled nuclear fusion," Chen's voice was deep, "we've invested thirty years in it, and ITER has invested forty years. And to this day, we still haven't succeeded."

"I know," Lin Feng said. "That's why I came to the capital to request support."

"What kind of support?"

"All of China's research data on controlled nuclear fusion," Lin Feng said, looking at Elder Chen. "Theories, experimental data, failure records... everything. I need to know where we are now, and where we're stuck."

Old Chen was stunned.

He looked at the young man before him as if he were a madman. But then he thought of the Kunpeng, the anti-cancer drugs, the Vermilion Bird… He suddenly realized that perhaps it wasn't Lin Feng who was crazy, but rather this world that wasn't bold enough in its thinking and actions.

"How long will it take you to finish reading?" Old Chen asked.

"The sooner the better," Lin Feng replied. "The Vermilion Bird Project can't wait."

The car stopped in front of a detached building within the Chinese Academy of Sciences. The environment was quiet and secluded, surrounded by high walls and guarded at the entrance, clearly indicating a highly confidential location.

"This is your temporary accommodation and laboratory," Old Chen said, leading Lin Feng inside. "The data will be delivered tonight. But Lin Feng..."

He turned around, his eyes serious: "You need to understand, these things represent the culmination of decades of hard work by several generations. After you've seen them, whether it works out or not, you have to give me an explanation."

"I understand." Lin Feng nodded solemnly.

The documents arrived that night.

It wasn't just a few documents, or a few hard drives; it was three entire secure transport vehicles. The file boxes filled half the room, and the hard drive array required a dedicated server room to access.

Lin Feng stood in front of these documents, remaining silent for a long time.

He knew the weight of these things—they weren't just papers and data, but the footprints of countless scientists' lifelong struggles, failures, and renewed efforts. Some may have already passed away, while others are still persevering in the laboratory.

He took a deep breath and opened the first box.

For the next three days, Lin Feng did not leave the small building.

He only sleeps two hours a day, spending the rest of his time reading. His photographic memory makes his reading speed astonishing—he can memorize a page at a glance; he can understand the core of an experimental report in three minutes; and he can grasp the entire logic of a paper in five minutes.

On the first day, he finished reading the basic theory section.

The next day, he reviewed the experimental data.

On the third day, he finished reviewing the failure records.

Every page is filled with stories of setbacks.

But Lin Feng's eyes grew brighter and brighter.

Because he saw the problem—it wasn't that the theory was wrong, but that the engineering implementation was going in the wrong direction; it wasn't that the materials were inadequate, but that the design approach was limited; it wasn't that the technology was insufficient, but that a disruptive innovation was lacking.

Late on the third night, Lin Feng closed the last experiment log.

He walked to the window and looked at the night view of the capital.

Then, he closed his eyes.

Consciousness sinks into the system's simulation space.

In the white virtual space, on the left is the "Core Theory of Controlled Nuclear Fusion" awarded by the system, and on the right is all the data and information accumulated in the real world.

The fusion begins.

Systems theory provides a perfect physical model and mathematical framework, but lacks engineering details and material parameters for the real world; real-world data provides specific experimental experience and lessons learned from failures, but lacks groundbreaking theoretical guidance.

What Lin Feng needs to do is combine the two.

He pulled up the design blueprints for the Nuwa Project—a compact spherical tokamak device, only one-tenth the diameter of a traditional device, but with a magnetic field strength three times higher.

"Magnetic field configuration optimization".

The virtual device began operating. Magnetic field lines coiled like blue ribbons, within which plasma swirled and glowed. The constraint time increased from 100 seconds—200 seconds, 300 seconds, 500 seconds…

However, at 800 seconds, the plasma suddenly became unstable and exhibited tearing mode oscillations.

"Introduce resonant magnetic perturbation."

Lin Feng adjusted the current distribution in the external coil, applying a tiny disturbance at a specific location. This was a technique learned from real-world data—using a "fight fire with fire" approach to suppress greater instability.

The tremors disappeared.

The constraint time continues to increase: 1000 seconds, 1200 seconds, 1500 seconds...

"Heating method optimized."

Traditional neutral beam injection and ion cyclotron resonance heating have limited efficiency. Lin Feng adopted the alpha particle self-heating scheme from the system theory—allowing the alpha particles generated by the fusion reaction to remain in the plasma and transfer energy to other particles through collisions.

The energy gain factor Q value began to surge: 5, 8, 10, 15...

When the Q value exceeds 20, it means that the output energy is 20 times the input energy—the commercialization threshold has been reached.

But not enough.

Lin Feng continued to optimize. Material selection, cooling scheme, tritium breeding blanket design, thermoelectric conversion efficiency... every aspect combined system theory and practical experience.

In real time, a month has passed.

In the simulation space, he performed more than half a million iterations.

When the final design was completed, the virtual device's energy gain factor stabilized at 35, the constraint time reached 1800 seconds, the device diameter was only 6 meters, and the power output reached 500 megawatts.

—This is an "artificial sun" that can be installed on an aircraft to power a sixth-generation fighter jet.

Lin Feng opened his eyes.

Outside the window, it was already daylight.

He walked to his desk and turned on his computer.

Fingers danced across the keyboard, moving so fast they left afterimages. Design drawings, formulas, parameters, process flows… a massive amount of data flowed from the brain to the screen.

Eight hours later, a complete "Nuwa Project - Miniaturized Controlled Nuclear Fusion Reactor Technology Solution" was completed.

Five hundred pages of main text, two hundred pages of appendices, every piece of data has a source, and every design has been verified.

Lin Feng saved the file, encrypted it, and then dialed Old Chen's number.

"Old Chen," his voice was a little hoarse from staying up all night, "the theory is complete."

There was a five-second silence on the other end of the phone.

Then, Old Chen only said five words:

"Come to my office."