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

The "Computing Center" of Base 504.

The name sounds impressive, but in reality, it's just a few large warehouses converted from abandoned hangars.

To cool down the hundreds of brains frantically processing data, the warehouse ceiling was covered with soaked straw mats. Huge industrial fans roared in the corners, trying to dispel the suffocating stench of sweat and the oppressive atmosphere in the air.

"Splash—splash—"

The clanging of hundreds of abacuses was like a relentless downpour, enveloping everything completely.

This is not the sound of rain.

This is the gasp of life for China's nuclear industry in dire straits.

Su Zheng stood by the iron railing on the second floor, his brows furrowed. The cigarette in his hand had burned down to the end, burning his fingers, but he was completely unaware.

His gaze was fixed intently on the crowd below.

Sitting there were top mathematics students transferred from major universities across the country. They were young and full of energy, and should have been deriving formulas in a bright classroom. But now, they were all pale-faced, with sunken eyes, like puppets whose souls had been drained.

Some people fell asleep with a steamed bun in their hand before even bringing it to their mouths; others were doing arithmetic while their noses were bleeding, the blood dripping onto the abacus beads, a glaring red.

"Dean Su."

The old professor (Su Zheng's mentor, a famous mathematician) walked over with faltering steps. This titan of a figure also looked haggard, and his hair was a mess like a bird's nest.

"The third set of data... is useless."

The old professor's voice trembled slightly, "The calculation result is not closed. There's a misplaced decimal point. All the calculations of these nine days... have been wasted."

Su Zheng's hand trembled, and the cigarette butt fell to the ground.

"Has it been found out who was wrong?" Su Zheng's voice was a little hoarse.

"We've found out. It's a kid named Xiao Li." The old professor sighed. "Don't blame him. He's been working for 40 hours straight without sleep. Just now... he fainted and is being treated in the infirmary."

Su Zheng closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The smell of despair in the air made him feel suffocated.

The theoretical model of the "implosion method" is too complex. The focusing of the shock wave, the turbulence of fluid dynamics, the nonlinear transmission of explosive detonation... each step requires a massive amount of calculation.

Using an abacus?

It's like trying to dig through a mountain with a spoon.

"Teacher," Su Zheng opened his eyes, a fierce glint in them, "how much longer will this go on?"

The old professor gave a wry smile and held up three fingers.

"At the current pace, if no mistakes are made and no rework is done, it will take at least three years to calculate the first round of theoretical values."

Three years?!

Su Zheng gripped the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force. "Three years later, they'll be dropping atomic bombs on our heads! We won't have three years! Not even three months!"

"What can we do?" the old professor exclaimed, pointing to the group of children struggling desperately downstairs. "They're risking their lives! Su Zheng, human strength has its limits! We're fighting against God's rules, but all we have are firewood!"

"Where's the machine?"

Su Zheng suddenly turned around and pointed to the computer room next door, "Where's that '103' machine? Wasn't it supposed to be fixed? Why isn't it being used?"

The old professor's face darkened further when the machine was mentioned.

"Come on, go and see for yourself."

……

The atmosphere in the adjacent server room was even more oppressive than here.

The vacuum tube computer, a copy of the Soviet M-3 model, lay sprawled in the center of the computer room like a morbidly ill beast. It was enormous, cumbersome, and radiated an astonishing amount of heat.

Several technicians were sweating profusely around it, as if they were performing surgery on a critically ill patient.

"What's going on?" Su Zheng strode over.

"The heat dissipation is poor, it's burned out again."

The technician pointed to a pile of discarded vacuum tubes on the ground, his face filled with despair. "Dean Su, these things are too delicate. There are thousands of vacuum tubes. If even one overheats and fails, the entire computing logic will malfunction. The wind and sand are strong here, and the voltage is unstable... It only ran for ten minutes before the power module started smoking."

Su Zheng remained silent.

He walked up to the server rack, ignoring the scorching heat, and directly reached out and pulled open the cover of a server chassis.

The Eye of Truth is opened.

[Microscopic Scanning Mode: Activated.]

In an instant, this computer, which represented the highest level of technology in the country at the time, was deconstructed into countless lines and nodes in Su Zheng's eyes.

The red warning dots were densely packed, like a mocking face.

The electron tubes are severely aged.

The solder joint is not properly welded.

The wiring causes significant interference.

Most fatally, this tube-based logic architecture has an inherently huge flaw—too much power consumption and too poor stability.

This is not a usable tool at all.

This is even less reliable than a bunch of abacuses.

"Dean Su, how about... we still try to fix it?" the technician asked tentatively. "If it can run for half an hour, even just to calculate one set of data would be helpful."

"build?"

Su Zheng sneered, "How can you fix it? It's a genetic disease. Unless you replace all these glass tubes with new ones, replace all the air here with dust-free air, and stabilize the voltage like an electrocardiogram..."

He slammed the cover shut with a loud bang.

"This is industrial waste."

Su Zheng delivered a harsh verdict.

Everyone present lowered their heads. They knew Su Zheng was right, but admitting it meant admitting defeat. It meant they could only return to that despairing abacus hell.

Su Zheng turned around and walked out of the computer room.

Outside on the Gobi Desert, a fierce wind was howling. The swirling sand and gravel stung my face.

Su Zheng lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

The stimulation of nicotine slightly cleared his muddled mind.

We must change routes.

We must find a new path.

His gaze inadvertently swept over a warehouse in the distance. Two armed soldiers were standing guard there, the security level even higher than here.

That's where the wreckage of the U-2 reconnaissance plane is stored.

Su Zheng's eyes suddenly lit up.

He threw away his cigarette butt and strode toward the warehouse.

"Dean Su! That's a restricted area! We need General Zhang's approval!" The guard stopped him.

"Get out of here."

Su Zheng's voice wasn't loud, but his predatory gaze made even the guards, who had experienced battle, instinctively take a step back.

Su Zheng pushed open the door and went inside.

In the huge warehouse, the black U-2 had been disassembled into countless parts, which were neatly arranged on a long table.

Su Zheng ignored the wings and engines and went straight to the area where electronic equipment was placed.

There were several black boxes sealed with lead.

That was the U-2's fire control radar core, electronic countermeasures system, and that mysterious flight recorder.

In this era, these things represented the pinnacle of the American electronics industry.

Su Zheng put on a pair of white gloves and picked up a black cube about the size of a thumb.

[The Eye of Truth: Analysis.]

[Target: Early integrated operational amplifiers from Texas Instruments.]

[Composition: High-purity monocrystalline silicon, doping process...]

[Structure: Transistor logic circuit...]

Lines of data flashed past Su Zheng's eyes.

Su Zheng's hands began to tremble slightly. Not from fear, but from excitement.

Transistor.

This contains a real transistor!

Although these early transistors seem ridiculously rudimentary to later generations, Su Zheng sees them as diamonds, keys to the future.

"if……"

Su Zheng muttered to himself, "If I take these things apart... and forcibly convert their analog signal circuits into digital logic circuits..."

"Replace vacuum tubes with transistors."

"Replace discrete components with integrated operational amplifiers."

In Su Zheng's mind, a crazy blueprint began to grow wildly.

That's not a repair.

That's a reconstruction.

That was using the bones of his enemies to forge a sword to slay dragons for himself.

"Su Zheng! What are you doing?!"

General Zhang's furious roar came from behind. General Zhang rushed in with several staff officers and was terrified to see Su Zhengzheng holding a screwdriver, preparing to pry open the most valuable radar core component.

"That's a treasure! It's meant to be sent to the capital for those old experts to study! How are we supposed to explain this to them if you demolish it?!"

General Zhang rushed forward to seize it.

"Don't move!"

Su Zheng suddenly turned around, pointing the screwdriver at General Zhang, his eyes flashing with a frightening light. "Old Zhang, do you believe me?"

General Zhang was stunned.

He had never seen Su Zheng with such an expression. It was like a gambler betting his entire fortune on a single card.

"What...what are you going to do?"

"I want to build something."

Su Zheng held up the black module, his voice echoing in the empty warehouse, "I'm going to use this thing to build a real computer. A computer that can turn three years into three months!"

"Are you crazy?"

The elderly professor, who arrived shortly after, nearly fainted upon hearing this. "How is this possible? These are radar components! They're analog circuits! They're completely different from the digital logic of a computer! It's like... like trying to convert a radio into a tractor!"

"The principles are different, but the material basis is the same."

Su Zheng's voice was firm and unquestionable: "At the microscopic level, they are all the flow of electrons, all the switches between 0 and 1."

He looked at the old professor, then at General Zhang.

"You've all seen the current situation."

"Machine 103 is useless. The abacus is a dead end."

"We have no way out."

"Since there's no road, I'll smash it out of this pile of American junk!"

Su Zheng took a deep breath and slammed the black box heavily on the table.

Give me three days.

"I want a completely sealed laboratory. No one is allowed to enter except for Xinyi."

"Three days from now, I'll give you a new machine."

"Or...?"

Su Zheng paused, a bitter smile creeping onto his lips.

"Or I'll go to a military court and sit in jail with that U-2 pilot."

The warehouse was deathly silent.

Only the sound of the wind outside the window seemed to be counting down to this high-stakes gamble.

General Zhang stared at Su Zheng for a full minute.

He saw the bloodshot in the young man's eyes, the reckless madness, and the confidence that came from the depths of his soul.

"it is good."

General Zhang gritted his teeth, then suddenly waved his hand, "Give it to him!"

"Old Zhang!" the old professor exclaimed anxiously.

"If anything goes wrong, I'll take the blame!" General Zhang roared, taking off his hat and slamming it on the table. "We're going to die anyway if we fail the mission! Might as well let this kid go crazy! What if... what if he really can turn a radio into a tractor?!"

Su Zheng smiled.

He turned around, ignoring the people behind him, and began to concentrate on disassembling the priceless radar component.

"I like it, I'm ready to record it."

"The first step is to brute-force the encapsulation."

As Su Zheng's screwdriver fell, a crisp "snap" sounded.

That wasn't just the sound of metal shattering.

That was the sound of the old era being shattered.

It was also the first cry of silicon-based civilization in this ancient country.