Reborn in 2011, I am the chief designer of aerospace.

In late October, the golden autumn air was crisp and refreshing.

As Song Xingye dragged his suitcase out of Jinling Railway Station, he immediately spotted that beige figure in the bustling crowd.

Two months have passed, and this "little cotton flower" seems to have blossomed even more brightly and beautifully.

Today she wore a beige fitted knit top paired with dark blue jeans, which accentuated her long, straight legs.

Her tall, 1.7-meter frame made her stand out like a graceful swan among the crowd waiting to greet people at the station.

Seeing that she was still standing on tiptoe, looking around, Song Xingye called out to her.

Upon hearing the familiar voice, Jiang Mian turned her head, her bright and lively eyes immediately locking onto him.

Then, a mischievous smile flashed across her face, and she jogged over, extending her hand:

"Oh dear, to prevent anyone from saying I'm being arrogant as the host, I had no choice but to come and greet you personally!"

"Zhongshan Mountain coils like a dragon, and Shicheng City crouches like a tiger. Welcome to Jinling, the ancient capital of six dynasties, Comrade Xiao Song!"

Song Xingye also reached out and grasped that slightly cool but soft little hand.

The faint scent of her hair filled my nostrils, and before me were the girl's eyes, clear and gentle as the bright moon.

Looking at the girl smiling radiantly at him, Song Xingye suddenly couldn't help but feel a strange sense of bewilderment—

This girl is like a flower bud about to bloom, exuding fragrance. She smells so good!

Jiang Mian, sitting opposite, felt her cheeks flush slightly under his gaze and awkwardly withdrew her hand, using the gesture of tossing her hair to hide her shyness.

"Come on, come on, don't just stand there. I'll take you on a tour of our school, it's huge and really fun..."

The two hailed a taxi and headed straight for the old campus of China Southern Airlines.

Yu Street, Qinhuai District.

That year, China Southern Airlines had not yet moved from the old campus, so most students were still concentrated in the Ming Palace campus.

Located in the heart of Nanjing, the campus is bisected by the Yudai River, with ancient buildings such as the Huicui Building, the ruins of the Ming Palace, and towering plane trees that block out the sun.

Jiang Mian enthusiastically acted as a tour guide, leading Song Xingye on a stroll along the sycamore-lined avenue. Finally, the two of them went into a café called "Left Bank".

Two cups of coffee and delicate pastries were served.

"Alright, Corporal Cotton, now begin your report to your superior!"

Song Xingye adopted an attitude of listening attentively.

Jiang Mian stirred her coffee with a spoon and said:

"A few years ago, when the Mars exploration project was first launched, East China Institute of Aerospace Science and Technology was the one that took charge of the overall research and development."

"However, as you know, everyone has their own expertise. Although the East China Academy of Space Technology is known as 'omnipotent,' it still has some limitations when it comes to a project as significant as Mars exploration."

"In the area of ​​chip design and measurement and control algorithms, Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics (NUAA) does have an advantage over the 803rd and 804th Institutes of East China Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics (ECA), so it was only natural that we took on several industry-funded research projects..."

As she spoke, Jiang Mian took out her small notebook from her bag, flipped to several pages of densely filled notes,

"According to my research, the projects undertaken by China Southern Airlines mainly include thermal simulation of detector power modules, emergency beacon devices, ultrasonic motor control, and dynamic analysis of antenna deployment mechanisms, etc..."

"As for whether there are any other hidden projects, I can't help you with that. After all, military academies like Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics have many projects that are kept secret."

Song Xingye nodded. "This is already very valuable. Could you get your hands on the relevant original materials or technical documents?"

"If Comrade Song asks, of course I can! I know all the senior students in those research groups, we're really close!"

Jiang Mian picked up her coffee and took a nice sip, her eyes brimming with a smile that held a hint of ambiguity. "I personally participated in two of the projects, and the raw data is on my computer. As for the others, you'll just have to go online and study the papers."

Song Xingye ignored the other person's gaze and urged them dryly:

"Okay, please do me the trouble of organizing it. I want to see it immediately, the more detailed the better."

Jiang Mian smiled, her eyes crinkling. "Of course, no problem! I've already got everything ready, just waiting for you to come!"

Song Xingye asked impatiently, "Where is it?"

"Oh, it's on my computer."

Seeing the boy's smug look as soon as the topic of the documents came up, Jiang Mian couldn't help but feel a little discouraged by her own charm. She pouted and said, "Do you want to see them now?"

"Of course, time is of the essence, we need to see now."

"Okay, okay, I'll go back to my dorm to get my computer. You wait here for a bit."

With that, Jiang Mian put down her cup, turned around, and went back to her dormitory building.

Song Xingye waited listlessly in the same spot.

He hoped to get some clues about the failure of the Yinghuo-1 probe launch from Jiang Mian.

Before coming here, thanks to Dean Lu and Academician Li, Song Xingye had already had the privilege of seeing real photos of the probe.

Unfortunately, the "Fault Prediction Eye" seems to have no effect on photos as a medium.

It seems we need to see Yinghuo-1 in person or take a look at its technical blueprints to find out the fault.

Song Xingye picked up his coffee, took a sip, then his face stiffened. He slowly put the cup down, staring at it with an incredulous and worried expression.

It was even more unforgettable for him than Nestlé coffee.

Not long after, Jiang Mian returned with her laptop bag. She excitedly turned on the computer, sat down opposite her, and asked:

Why aren't you drinking?

Across from him, Song Xingye pointed to a half-full glass of dark brown liquid, his expression grave. "This stuff is called coffee?"

"Yes, bourbon whiskey and espresso, our signature coffee! Everyone who tries it gives it a thumbs up and says 'Delicious!'"

Jiang Mian threw in a foreign phrase, then said smugly, "You've definitely tried it, haven't you? The taste is unforgettable, isn't it?"

"So you did this on purpose, didn't you?"

Song Xingye smacked his lips; the taste was indeed unforgettable. He assumed the waiter had used the broth from West Lake Fish in Vinegar Sauce to make the coffee.

He commented expressionlessly, "It tastes both bitter and spicy. I don't know why this restaurant serves this; are they trying to torture their customers' tongues?"

Jiang Mian enthusiastically explained to him, "Oh, you don't understand! It's said that there's a bard in New York who loves to drink like this. The strength of the alcohol and the bitterness of the coffee are perfectly balanced; it's the taste of the soul."

"That poet must have been made up by the shop owner, right? Who in their right mind would drink this rubbish?"

"But we have a lot of repeat customers."

"Then why aren't you drinking?"

Song Xingye pointed to the sweet-smelling Container in front of Jiang Mian, "You specially ordered something good for yourself, but ordered this for me. Are you deliberately messing with me?"

"Hehe, I don't like the taste, I want to see if you can handle it."

Jiang Mian finally couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"I definitely can't. Did the shop owner mention that some idiot poet drank this idiot coffee and ended up becoming Shakespeare or Tolstoy?"

"Oh, no, not at all."

Jiang Mian rested her chin on her hand and said earnestly, "I heard he eventually quit drinking."

"..."

Ten minutes later, the new confectionery that Song Xingye had ordered was served.

He sipped his coffee while quickly browsing the information on Jiang Mian's computer.

Jiang Mian sat opposite him listlessly, sometimes muttering to herself, sometimes resting her chin on her hand to observe his focused profile.

They sat there from morning until dusk, consuming several cups of coffee, two plates of pasta, and countless snacks, all paid for by Xiao Song, of course.

As the last document closed, Song Xingye shut his laptop, his brow furrowed.

Although he found a few minor logical flaws in the data using his "Fault Prediction Eye," his profound engineering intuition allowed him to conclude—

Even if these flaws were magnified a hundredfold, they would not be enough to cause the probe mission to fail!

What went wrong with Firefly 1, which disappeared without a trace and didn't even make a ripple in the long river of history?

It seems that relying solely on external information is insufficient.

You have to go to the Baikonur Cosmodrome in person to find out for yourself.

Seeing him close his laptop, Jiang Mian, who was idly blowing on her bangs across from him, immediately sat up straight and asked expectantly:

"How was it? Did you find anything useful?"

Looking into those bright, sparkling eyes, Song Xingye couldn't bear to dampen her enthusiasm.

"Very helpful, thanks to you." He praised insincerely, then quickly changed the subject, "It would be even better if there were more data..."

"That's not enough! It'll be over a hundred pages printed out. You have so much energy!"

Jiang Mian's eyes widened, then her eyeballs darted around as if she had suddenly remembered something, and she excitedly slapped the table.

"Oh, right! I just remembered something!"

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There are only 9 days left in the new book period! Thank you so much to all the readers for your continued support, comments, and votes! I'll be updating like crazy once it's officially released! Please keep reading for the last ten days, it'll be available at the end of the month. Thank you so much! (˵¯͒¯͒˵)