Courtyard House: A Major Power's Heavy Industry, Hand-Crafted Nuclear Fusion

October 1964 is destined to be a day that will be recorded in history.

Within 24 hours of that mushroom cloud rising over Lop Nur, the entire Earth's political tectonic plates experienced a violent "earthquake."

Tokyo, Associated Press bureau.

"Extra number! Extra number!"

"Red China successfully tested an atomic bomb!"

The printing presses whirred wildly, and newspapers, still smelling of ink, flew through the streets like snowflakes. The front page headline was a blurry photograph taken by a reconnaissance satellite—a dust cloud symbolizing destruction and rebirth.

Moscow, Red Square.

Comrade Khrushchev, with his fiery temper, remained silent for a full ten minutes as he looked at the report sent by the intelligence agency.

"They did it..."

The old man looked at the snowflakes falling outside the window, his voice low and somber, "When we withdrew the experts, we thought they would collapse. Unexpectedly, we forced out a giant."

"Has the investigation been completed regarding that young man named Su Zheng?"

"It's all cleared up. Codename 'Ghost.' He had no prior overseas study experience; he's like a genius who sprang from the ground up."

The old man sighed.

"Notify border troops to raise the alert level. From today onward, we must learn to look at our former little brother with the same eye."

Washington, D.C., the Pentagon.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was more somber than at a funeral.

"Has the assessment report been released yet?" the Defense Minister asked.

"It's out." The RAND Corporation analyst adjusted his glasses. "Based on the analysis of radioactive fallout, this was more than just a simple nuclear explosion."

"What do you mean?"

"They didn't use the traditional 'gun-style' structure, but the most advanced 'implosion method.' Moreover... judging from the neutron flux, they seem to be using an extremely special uranium sphere structure with an alarmingly high utilization rate."

"What does this mean?"

"This means they have an extremely high starting point in technology. They are not imitating Hiroshima; they are directly challenging our Los Alamos."

The analyst paused, then dropped an even more startling conclusion:

"Based on this rate of technological iteration... we predict that it will take them no more than three years to build a hydrogen bomb."

Three years?!

The generals present all gasped in shock.

It's important to understand that it took the United States seven years to develop the atomic bomb into the hydrogen bomb, while Russia took four. How could a country with such a weak industrial base achieve this in just three years?

"Perhaps... even shorter."

……

Beijing, late autumn.

Fallen leaves covered Chang'an Avenue.

A black Hongqi sedan, escorted by two jeeps, slowly drove across Tiananmen Square.

The car windows were not covered by curtains.

Su Zheng, dressed in a faded Zhongshan suit, quietly looked out the window.

The celebrating crowds in the square had not yet dispersed. The loudspeakers blared "Ode to the Motherland" over and over again. People waved red flags, their faces beaming with heartfelt pride and joy.

"Dean Su, where are we going?" asked the driver, Xiao Wang.

"Let's not go back to the guesthouse yet."

Su Zheng's gaze deepened.

"Let's go to Nanluoguxiang."

"Nanluoguxiang?" Xiao Wang paused for a moment, "That's...your hometown?"

"I guess so," Su Zheng smiled. "There are still some old things there that I'd like to retrieve."

Actually, there's nothing that you absolutely have to take.

He just wanted to say goodbye.

Say goodbye to my former self, say goodbye to those years filled with everyday life and calculation.

……

No. 95, Nanluoguxiang, is a courtyard house.

Although there was a great commotion outside, the courtyard was unusually quiet, even somewhat oppressive.

In the front yard, Yan Bugui was wearing his reading glasses, staring blankly at the extra edition of the newspaper. His hands were trembling, the abacus beads rattling erratically, but he couldn't figure out the account no matter what he did.

In the middle courtyard, Yi Zhonghai sat on the steps at the entrance, holding a teacup in his hand, but the tea had long since gone cold.

In the backyard, Liu Haizhong hid inside the house, peering out through the window cracks with the look of a frightened bird.

Just then.

"Beep—"

A deep and authoritative car horn sounded at the entrance of the alley.

Immediately following was a series of synchronized footsteps.

Four heavily armed guards rushed into the courtyard and quickly secured the passageways to the front, middle, and rear gates.

"alert!"

This display terrified the beasts in the yard. Just as Jia Zhangshi was about to throw a tantrum, she saw the dark muzzle of a gun and immediately hid her head under the covers.

A black Hongqi sedan slowly came to a stop at the gate.

The car door opened.

A foot wearing cloth shoes stepped onto the bluestone slab.

Su Zheng came down.

He wasn't wearing a military uniform or medals. He was still wearing that Zhongshan suit, and his expression remained calm.

But his aura had completely changed.

It was a composure and awe-inspiring presence born from having experienced life and death, having controlled destruction, and having witnessed history.

"Su...Su Zheng?"

Yan Bugui rubbed his eyes and exclaimed in disbelief.

Su Zheng ignored him.

He walked straight through the front yard and into the middle yard.

Sha Zhu was carrying a basin of foot-washing water out of the house when he saw Su Zheng. He froze, and the basin fell to the ground with a clatter, splashing water all over his pants.

Qin Huairu stood by the pool, the clothes in her hands slipping into the water. She looked at the man she had once despised for being "unromantic" and the "fall guy" she had schemed against, but now he seemed like an insurmountable mountain.

Su Zheng's gaze swept over these people.

There was no anger, no sarcasm, not even any emotion.

It's like a giant dragon looking down from the clouds at ants on the ground.

He walked to the side room where he used to live. The lock on the door was rusty.

The guards tried to break down the door, but Su Zheng stopped them.

He took a key out of his pocket and gently turned it.

The room was covered in dust.

Su Zheng walked to the desk and picked up a photograph that was pressed under the glass. It was the only photo of him in this courtyard when he first transmigrated here.

The young man in the photo has a look of confusion and resentment in his eyes.

"Bye now."

Su Zheng said softly.

He put the photo in his pocket, turned around, and walked out of the house.

In the courtyard, everyone was watching him. Yi Zhonghai opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to say something to get closer to him, such as "Come back and visit often," but under Su Zheng's cold gaze, he couldn't utter a single word.

Are you a level eight worker? He's the chief engineer.

Are you the boss in charge? He's a meritorious official.

The difference is beyond what the word "status" can describe. It's a difference between species.

Su Zheng walked to the front gate and stopped.

He turned around and took one last look at the courtyard house, which was filled with scheming and trivial matters.

"From now on, don't say you know me."

Su Zheng casually uttered those words.

Then, without looking back, he got into the car.

"boom--"

The Hongqi car started up, billowing dust as it disappeared at the end of the alley.

Only the people left in the courtyard shivered in the autumn wind.

They knew that from this day forward, the man named Su Zheng had become a legend. And they could only continue to fight until the end of time in this aging courtyard house over a few cents of vinegar and a few pounds of grain coupons.

That's fate.

……

Zhongnanhai, that familiar study.

Su was sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in front of him.

Sitting opposite him was the beloved old man.

"Su Zheng, are you looking to rest for a few days now that you're back?" the old man asked kindly. "How about I give you a long vacation? It's about time you settled down. I think that Comrade Ye Xinyi is quite nice."

Su Zheng blushed slightly, but then became serious.

"Commander, I'm not tired."

He pulled a thick document out of his briefcase.

The cover of the document bears the words: "Preliminary Research Plan on the Theoretical Configuration and Miniaturization of the Hydrogen Bomb".

"The atomic bomb was just the first step."

Su Zheng's voice was firm: "The Americans and the Russians now possess something even more powerful—the hydrogen bomb. Its power is hundreds, even thousands of times that of the atomic bomb."

"Moreover, they are engaging in nuclear blackmail. If we stop here, all our previous efforts will only provide temporary peace."

The old man took the document, flipped through a few pages, and his expression became serious.

"You mean... you want to keep going?"

"Yes. Let's keep going."

Su Zheng stood up and walked to the world map on the wall.

"We used the atomic bomb for two years. As for the hydrogen bomb, I'll make a solemn promise."

He held up one finger.

"Ten years?" the old man asked.

"No."

Su Zheng shook his head.

"Two years and eight months."

"I want to transform this 'Eastern thunder' into 'Eastern lightning' within two years and eight months."

"Moreover, I not only want to build hydrogen bombs, but also intercontinental ballistic missiles that can reach the other side of the earth. I also want to build satellites that can monitor them."

A hint of appreciation flashed in the old man's eyes.

"Good lad! You've got quite an appetite!"

"However..." the old man's tone shifted, becoming somewhat somber, "you've sensed the recent change in the winds, haven't you?"

Su Zheng nodded.

The rain is coming and the wind is all over the building.

The "storm" that is about to sweep across the country has already shown signs of coming.

"Su Zheng, you are a scientist, a national treasure. I don't want you to get involved in those messy things."

The old man stood up, walked to the desk, picked up a pen, and wrote a few words on a piece of paper.

Then, a bright red stamp was affixed.

"Take this."

The old man handed the paper to Su Zheng.

That was a special appointment letter.

[Comrade Su Zheng is appointed as the Director and Party Secretary (concurrently) of the 001 Comprehensive Research Institute. The 001 Base is designated a top-secret special zone and is under military control. Except for direct orders from the Central Military Commission, no unit, organization, or individual has the right to interfere in the internal affairs of the base or enter its premises.]

This is an imperial sword.

It is also a protective charm.

"With this, you'll be a local tyrant over there," the old man said half-jokingly. "Keep a close watch on the door. No matter how strong the sandstorm is outside, it can't blow into the lab."

Su Zheng accepted the heavy letter of appointment with both hands, his eyes slightly moist.

He knew how heavy this piece of paper was.

This is the country using its greatest strength to provide a protective umbrella for him and those scientists.

"Mission accomplished!"

Su Zheng gave a standard military salute.

……

three days later.

A military transport plane took off from an airport in the suburbs of Beijing and flew directly to the northwest.

Su Zheng sat in the cabin, looking at the increasingly smaller city of Beijing outside the window, feeling no nostalgia, only anticipation.

Ye Xinyi sat beside him, still holding the notebook in her hand.

"Where is the next stop?" Ye Xinyi asked.

"Golden and Silver Beach".

Su Zheng looked at the boundless sea of ​​clouds in front of him.

"Is that a grassland?"

"It is a grassland, and also a battlefield."

Su Zheng grasped Ye Xinyi's hand.

"Xinyi, are you ready?"

"What are you preparing?"

"Prepare for...the storm."

The plane pierced through the clouds, facing the rising sun, and flew towards a future full of unknowns and challenges.