Special forces soldier demobilization: Starting from the county government compound, a meteoric rise

The joy brought by the success of the extreme ultraviolet light source did not last long.

When the first batch of experimental data was presented to Liu Ming, the euphoric atmosphere of victory in the command center quickly cooled down, replaced by a deeper, suffocating despair.

"No, it still won't work."

Mr. Qin, a seventy-year-old optical giant, pointed to an image on the screen that was covered with snow-like noise, his voice filled with endless fatigue and frustration.

"Our light source is world-class, but our 'lens' is not up to par. Extreme ultraviolet light is too powerful; ordinary mirrors simply cannot withstand it. We need to use moisb multilayer mirrors, and the precision must be controlled at the atomic level."

Only two companies worldwide possess the technology to grind and coat these lenses: one in Germany and one in Japan. And both of them are on this blockade list.

The command center was deathly silent.

If the light source is the heart of a lithography machine, then the lenses are its eyes. What use is a heart that beats powerfully but is blind?

This is the real technological barrier.

It was an invisible wall, a desperate chasm built up over decades of technological gap, which could not be broken through by passion and desperate efforts alone.

"Does the country... have no one who can fight?" Liu Ming's voice was deep.

Old Qin shook his head bitterly, took out a yellowed list from the drawer, and handed it to Liu Ming.

"Yes, of course. But they're not in the country."

The list contained a dozen or so names of people with yellow skin and black eyes. Each name was followed by a long, dazzling string of titles—tenured professor at MIT, chief scientist at the Max Planck Institute in Germany, core engineer on the ASML lithography machine project in the Netherlands…

They are the brains of the world's most advanced optics and precision instruments, and China's most valuable asset lost overseas.

"It's not that we haven't tried to win over these people," Old Qin sighed. "But they enjoy the best treatment abroad and possess the most core technologies. What can we offer them? High-ranking positions and generous salaries? They don't care. Talk about national righteousness? Ha, that's too far-fetched."

Liu Ming stared at the list and remained silent for a long time.

Unlike the others who sighed and complained, his bloodshot eyes instead ignited with an extremely bright flame, like a hunter spotting his prey.

He slowly folded the list and put it into his jacket pocket.

"Old Qin, leave this matter to me."

After saying that, he turned and walked out of the noisy command center and into a lounge prepared for him at the base, which had the highest level of security communication lines.

Instead of contacting any domestic departments, he retrieved a specially modified, seemingly old satellite phone from an extremely hidden compartment.

He opened an equally old address book with a worn cover. It contained not his domestic officials, but names that would shake the international academic community.

That was the most secretive and powerful network of connections he had built up back when he was at Imperial College London, after conquering a group of top students with his monstrous brain.

Liu Ming dialed the first number.

The phone rang for a long time before being answered, and a lazy voice with a thick Oxford accent came from the other end.

"Hey, who is this? Do you know it's 4 a.m. London time? If it's not something that could win you a Nobel Prize, I swear I'll follow the signal, drag you out, and throw you into the Thames."

"Davis, there's a fatal logical flaw in the formula derivation on page three of your paper on plasma physics," Liu Ming said calmly in his equally fluent and authentic London accent.

There was a full ten seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a gasp.

"Oh my God! It's you! Liu? You've been missing from the face of the earth for almost ten years! I thought you'd been captured by the CIA for vivisection!"

"I'm doing just fine." Liu Ming smiled and got straight to the point. "Do me a favor. I need all of Lister Chen's contact information, including which kindergarten his daughter attends."

"Lister Chen? That Chinese genius at MIT working on ultra-precision optical coating?" Davis's voice turned serious. "Liu, I have to remind you, that guy is a treasure under FBI surveillance 24/7. What are you planning to do?"

"It's nothing, I just wanted to invite him back to his hometown for a meal," Liu Ming said casually. "And while you're at it, could you also invite his entire lab team over?"

"Are you crazy? That's MIT's top-tier lab!"

"You set the terms for me." Liu Ming's tone carried an undeniable air of dominance. "Tell him that the money is plentiful. As for equipment, I'll give him whatever he wants. If he wants a particle collider, I'll get the government to approve the budget for him tomorrow."

"As for his reputation, if he agrees, the title of academician of the Chinese Academy of Sciences will be on his head next year." Most importantly, you should tell him…

Liu Ming paused, her voice becoming extremely seductive.

"Here I have the world's most stable extreme ultraviolet light source that he has always dreamed of. His coating technology, which is still in the theoretical stage, can only become a reality here."

Davis, on the other end of the phone, gasped.

……

Three days later, Boston, USA.

In MIT’s world-renowned ultra-precision optics lab, Lister Chen, a highly respected Chinese professor in academia, was angrily hanging up yet another “greeting” call from the FBI.

Just then, he received an anonymous email from Davis in his office's encrypted mailbox.

The email contained no lengthy explanation, only a photo and a sentence.

The photo shows a test image of the extremely ultraviolet light source inside the vacuum chamber of Base 201, a light so pure it sends shivers down one's spine.

That sentence was only eight characters long.

"The nation's most important instruments await your inscription."

Lister Chen stared at the photograph, and in his eyes, which had long been worn smooth by the world, a kind of almost fanatical, burning light belonging to a scientist suddenly burst forth!

He suddenly stood up and paced back and forth in the office, breathing rapidly.

He knew this was more than just an invitation.

This is a heavy challenge from his homeland, a challenge that he is willing to stake all the glory of the rest of his life on!

……

For the next few days, Liu Ming barely slept.

His encrypted phone made calls all over the world.

He used cutting-edge academic theories to convince the eccentric mirror grinding master at the Max Planck Institute in Germany that China was capable of providing a superior experimental environment than Germany.

Using Nangong Yao's business network, he almost "kidnapped" several frustrated core engineers at a Japanese optical giant, solving all their family and financial problems in exchange for their technology joining him.

He even contacted the retired, white-haired Dutch man who was once ASML's chief optical designer and now lives in seclusion at the foot of the Swiss Alps.

Liu Ming didn't talk to him about money or technology; the two talked on the phone for a full hour about Beethoven.

Before hanging up, Liu Ming only said one sentence: "Sir, human technology should not have national boundaries. Don't you want to see your life's work blossom even more brilliantly on this land in the East before you die?"

A week later.

At the secret airfield of Base 201, one after another unmarked special planes landed quietly under the stars.

Those who stepped off the plane were figures whose mere presence in the international academic community could cause an earthquake with a single stomp of their foot.

There was an elderly German man with a full head of silver hair and a stubborn look in his eyes.

There was a team of Japanese engineers dressed formally and carrying briefcases.

Furthermore, there is the "MIT Elite Team," comprised of over twenty top Chinese scientists led by Lister Chen.

When Qin Lao saw this legendary group of people appear in person before him on the tarmac, this seasoned scientist, who had seen many storms, was so excited that his whole body trembled and tears streamed down his face.

"Little...Little Liu...you...you've brought the entire world of optics back to us!"

Standing beside him, Liu Ming looked at the scientists whose eyes had been rekindled with passion, and a relaxed smile appeared on her face for the first time in many days.

He didn't try to take credit; he simply patted Old Qin on the shoulder and said softly.

"Old Qin, I've brought the person to you."

Old Qin wiped away his tears, nodded heavily, his voice choked with emotion.

"With them, let alone a lithography machine, we could even punch a hole in the moon!"

In a talent war fought without bloodshed, China emerged victorious.