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

On the other side of the ocean, inside a white domed building.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it felt like you could wring water out of it.

This was a strategic conference room accessible only to the highest-ranking personnel. At the far end of the long table sat the president. At this moment, his face was even more grim than the dark clouds outside the window.

On the table was a newly declassified piece of urgent intelligence.

"Can anyone tell me what happened?" The president's voice was deep and filled with anger. "Our 'Black Cat' (U-2 codename), at an altitude of 20,000 meters, at an altitude where no anti-aircraft fire can reach it on this planet, just... disappeared?"

The intelligence chief wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and stood up.

"Mr. President, according to the last telemetry signal transmitted back, all the aircraft's indicators were perfectly normal one second before it disappeared. There was no mechanical failure, no turbulence. And then... the signal suddenly dropped."

"Broken?" the top leader sneered. "Like it was wiped away by the hand of God?"

"We speculate... it might be some kind of new type of anti-aircraft missile," the Defense Minister interjected. "But according to our intelligence, the Chinese only have those few outdated SAM-2 missiles. The maximum altitude of those missiles is only 18,000 meters, and their anti-jamming capabilities are extremely poor. As long as our pilots activate the electronic jamming pods, those missiles will fly around like headless flies."

"So how do you explain this 'dead cat' now?" The top leader slammed the documents on the table. "Did a rabbit grow wings, fly up, and snatch it down?"

The conference room was deathly silent.

No one dared to speak. Because it was an inexplicable mystery.

In their minds, that ancient Eastern country, with its weak industrial base, couldn't even manufacture decent jet aircraft properly, so how could it possibly possess such advanced technology capable of shooting down stratospheric aircraft?

"pause."

The top leader took a deep breath and made a decision.

"Suspend all high-altitude reconnaissance flights over that area. I don't want to see another 'Black Cat' down until we figure out what weapons they used. This isn't just about one plane; it's about the face of the United States!"

"yes!"

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

But what they didn't know was that this decision would give the rabbit family a precious, undisturbed golden period of development.

……

At the same time.

The East, the capital city.

Inside the red walls, a simple study was filled with laughter and cheerful conversation.

The beloved old man held a report that had been urgently sent from the Northwest Base, and even his usually serious eyebrows and eyes were filled with a smile.

"Good! Good! Good!"

The old man exclaimed "Good!" three times in a row, "This Su Zheng is truly a Sun Wukong! Not only did he wreak havoc in the Heavenly Palace, he even pulled down the Jade Emperor's underwear!"

The secretary standing to the side was also amused: "Sir, Dean Su said in his report that this is called 'reverse engineering.' He said that since the Americans have sent us such a great gift, it would be impolite of us not to accept it."

"Reverse engineering...that's a good term."

The old man put down the report, walked to the window, and looked at the rising sun outside.

"Before, we were blockaded and held hostage. Now, things are different. They're delivering blueprints, materials, and even radar frequencies to our doorstep. What do you call that? That's what you call being a 'transportation captain'!"

The old man turned around, his expression becoming serious.

"Relay my orders."

"First, award the 504 Base a collective first-class merit. Comrade Su Zheng shall be awarded a special-class merit."

"Secondly, all technical analysis materials regarding the U-2 are classified as top secret. No one is allowed to inquire about them or disclose them except for core personnel."

"third……"

The old man looked northwest, and his voice became strong and resonant.

"Now that the flies in the sky have been swatted, it's time to get down to business on the ground. Tell Su Zheng, I don't just want to see him dismantle the plane, I want to see him set off that 'big firecracker'! Give him the manpower, give him the money. Even if we have to sell everything we own, we need to make sure I hear that bang!"

"yes!"

……

Northwest Gobi Desert, Base 504.

The sandstorms continue.

But the atmosphere at the base was completely different from before.

If before everyone was holding their breath and working hard, now that breath has been released and transformed into a kind of high-spirited confidence.

We shot down even the most advanced American planes, so what is impossible?

This confidence is reflected on everyone's face and in the roar of every workshop.

The lights in Su Zheng's office remained on all night.

But his focus at this moment was no longer on that pile of scrap metal.

On the desk lay a huge engineering drawing. In the center of the drawing was a complex spherical structure.

"Implosion method".

Su Zheng circled the drawing heavily with a red pen.

This is the core detonation method of the atomic bomb.

Simply put, it involves simultaneously detonating explosives around a uranium sphere to generate immense centripetal pressure, compressing the uranium sphere to a supercritical state, thereby triggering nuclear fission.

The principle sounds simple, but in practice... it's incredibly difficult.

"Dean Su."

Ye Xinyi pushed open the door and came in, carrying a cup of hot tea. "Everyone's gone to the cafeteria to celebrate, aren't you going to say a few words?"

Today is the base's victory celebration. To celebrate shooting down the U-2, the logistics department specially slaughtered two pigs, which is like celebrating the New Year in a base where supplies are scarce.

"I won't go."

Su Zheng rubbed his throbbing temples. "Let them relax a bit. They've been under too much pressure."

He took the teacup, took a sip, and found it bitter with a sweet aftertaste.

"Xinyi, look at this." Su Zheng pointed to the blueprint.

Ye Xinyi came closer; she was a top student in physics and immediately understood the trick.

"This is... a diagram of the arrangement of explosive lenses?" Ye Xinyi's expression changed slightly. "This structure... is too complicated. To ensure that all the explosives detonate within the same microsecond and that the shock wave is perfectly focused on the center of the sphere, the requirements for controlling the shape, density, and detonation point of the explosives are simply insane."

"That's right."

Su Zheng nodded. "This is our biggest obstacle ahead."

"If we use the 'gun method' (another detonation method, like the Hiroshima atomic bomb), the structure would be much simpler, but the utilization rate of uranium would be too low, and the volume would be too large to fit on a missile. If we're going to do it, we'll do the most advanced 'implosion method'."

"But..." Su Zheng sighed, "To design the perfect explosive lens, the amount of data that needs to be calculated is astronomical. The propagation speed of the shock wave, the attenuation of pressure, the superposition of detonation waves of different explosives... each variable will generate tens of thousands of equations."

In an era without supercomputers, this was an unsolvable problem.

Looking at Su Zheng's furrowed brows, Ye Xinyi asked softly, "Then... how do we settle this?"

"Calculate by hiring people."

Su Zheng raised his head, his gaze resolute. "If we don't have computers, we'll use abacuses. If we don't have enough abacuses, we'll use slide rules. If one person can't finish, we'll have a thousand, ten thousand people do it!"

"But..." Ye Xinyi said with some worry, "With this amount of calculation, even the slightest error can lead to failure."

"Therefore, I need a special 'brain'."

Su Zheng stood up and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the cheers of a victory celebration could be faintly heard.

"Xinyi, please send a telegram to the capital for me."

"to whom?"

"To my teacher, who is also your grandmaster." Su Zheng mentioned a name (based on a famous mathematician/physicist, whose real name is omitted here), "He is a leading figure in computational mathematics in China. Ask him to come out of retirement and help us set up a 'computing center'."

"Also," Su Zheng paused, "send over the list of all the electronic components we removed from the U-2 as well. I have an idea. Although we can't build a supercomputer capable of hundreds of millions of calculations per second, it's still possible to assemble a vacuum tube computer capable of tens of thousands of calculations per second using these high-end American components."

Ye Xinyi's eyes lit up: "You mean... use enemy parts to calculate the data for our own atomic bomb?"

"That's what you call 'using someone else's resources to your advantage'," Su Zheng laughed. "If the Americans knew, they'd probably jump out of their coffins in anger."

……

three days later.

A special convoy drove into the base.

There were no flowers, no banners. Only a truckload of goods and a group of travel-worn young people.

Most of them were recent college graduates, and many were even juniors or seniors. They received top-secret transfer orders and, without even having time to say goodbye to their families, boarded a freight car and endured a bumpy ride to this place that couldn't be found on any map.

The person leading the group was an elderly professor with gray hair.

He was wearing a faded Zhongshan suit and carrying an old leather suitcase. Seeing Su Zheng approach, the old man's face broke into a kind smile.

"Su Zheng, you've really given me a big problem this time." The old professor held Su Zheng's hand, complaining, but his eyes couldn't hide his pride.

"teacher!"

Su Zheng bowed respectfully, "This student is incompetent and can only ask you to come out of retirement."

"It's a matter of national importance, and I have an inescapable duty to do so." The old professor waved his hand. "Besides, I heard you dismantled all the Americans' U-2s? And you left me a bunch of good stuff?"

"They're all in the warehouse," Su Zheng said with a smile. "The best vacuum tubes, the best capacitors, all military-grade. Enough to keep you busy for a while."

"Great! Great!" The old professor's eyes lit up. "With these things, I can finally tinker with that '103 machine' (the early computer code name) that's just sitting on blueprints!"

……

In the days that followed, the base entered an even more frantic state of activity.

The old professor and his students built a simple "computing center" in the Gobi Desert.

It's called a center, but it's really just a few large warehouses.

There was no air conditioning inside, only huge blocks of ice to keep it cool.

At the other end of the warehouse, there was an even more spectacular sight.

Hundreds of soldiers and technicians, each with an abacus in hand, sat in neat rows.

"start!"

With a command given.

"Splash—"

The sound of hundreds of abacuses turning simultaneously merged into a huge wave of sound, which actually drowned out the sound of sand and dust outside the window.

This is a war between people and data.

Su Zheng stood on the high platform, watching this breathtaking scene, his eyes welling up with tears.

This is the backbone of the Chinese people.

Even if there are no conditions, we must create them and proceed.

"Dean Su."

General Zhang walked up to him, offered him a cigarette, and asked, "Can these kid soldiers handle it?"

"It can be done."

Su Zheng took a deep breath. "They're not calculating numbers, they're calculating fate. The fate of this country."

Suddenly, a rapid alarm broke the rhythm of the computing center.

"What's going on?!" Su Zheng's expression changed.

"Report!"

A communications officer came running up, panting, "The radar station has detected an unusual signal! At an altitude of 25,000 meters! The speed... the speed exceeds Mach 3!"

"What?!"

General Zhang was shocked. "Mach 3? That's impossible! The Americans' 'Blackbird' (SR-71) hasn't even entered service yet! What the hell is this thing?!"

Su Zheng's pupils suddenly contracted.

He suddenly looked up at the sky.

The Eye of Truth is opened.

My gaze pierced through the clouds and locked onto the target that was hurtling past at high speed.

That's not an airplane.

It was a spindle-shaped metal object with an eerie silver sheen on its surface.

"Not American."

Su Zheng's voice was icy cold.

"That's... the big brother from the north."

"They are demonstrating."

The object circled once above the base, as if mocking the ants on the ground, then suddenly accelerated, leaving a long trail before disappearing into the horizon.

That speed and that maneuverability completely surpass all current human-made aircraft.

"That's their latest high-altitude, high-speed reconnaissance missile... no, it's a drone." Su Zheng clenched his fist, his nails digging deep into his palm. "They're warning us that even if we shoot down the U-2, we're still novices in this field."

General Zhang trembled with rage: "This is outrageous! This is outrageous! It was one thing to withdraw the experts first, but now they're pulling this stunt!"

"fine."

Su Zheng loosened his fist, his eyes burning with fierce fire.

"Let them fly."

"Let them see."

"Look closely, this is how we grew the sun in this barren Gobi Desert!"

He turned and strode toward the computing center.

"Pass on my orders! Lights out tonight! Everyone, three shifts! Calculate that damn implosion data!"

"yes!"

That day, the sound of abacuses echoed throughout the entire night at Base 504.

Louder than thunder.

It was fiercer than the sound of the wind.