Courtyard House: From Deputy Division Commander to Civilian, Progressing All the Way

Lin Yang didn't say anything, but personally ladled out a bowl of mutton soup and placed it in front of Old Deng.

"Old Deng, health is the foundation of revolution. Zhou Nanzi gave me a death order: not only must the atomic bomb be detonated, but you national treasures must not lose a single hair." Lin Yang shoved the bowl into Old Deng's hands.

Old Deng held the bowl, feeling the warmth emanating from its sides, but his gaze remained fixed on the draft paper on the table.

"General Lin, I suspect that the Soviet model was wrong from the very beginning." Old Deng suddenly raised his head, his bloodshot eyes flashing with an almost crazed light.

Lin Yang's gaze sharpened slightly: "You mean, they're deliberately misleading us?"

"Not necessarily." Old Deng shook his head, took a big gulp of mutton soup, wiped the soup from the corner of his mouth, and said, "The geological conditions and material purity in the Soviet Union are slightly different from ours. Just because they succeeded with that model doesn't mean we can succeed with our current industrial foundation. We can no longer walk on their crutch!"

Deng Xiaoping suddenly stood up, his voice echoing in the hall: "Comrades! Overturn all the Soviet parameters! We will use our own fluid dynamics data to build a completely new Chinese model from scratch! Begin the ninth calculation!"

The entire computing room instantly erupted in excitement.

This is a high-stakes gamble. Overturning the existing framework means wiping out all the hard work of the past few months, and it means they have to grope their way out of the unknown in the dark.

But no one backed down.

Looking at the young faces who had picked up their abacuses again and whose eyes had become incredibly determined, Lin Yang felt an uncontrollable surge of fervor.

This is the backbone of the Chinese people: not blindly following authority, and not fearing darkness.

"Good!" Lin Yang slammed his hand on the table, his voice booming. "The entire Logistics and Security Department is on standby! From today onwards, no one is allowed to disturb the Theory Group except to use the restroom. Chen Feng, go and move my cot over; I'll sleep right outside the computing room. Anyone who dares to mess things up at this time, I'll shoot them!"

Time passed day by day.

Sacks of draft paper were piled up one after another. The beads of the abacus were being moved around so much that several technicians even developed blisters on their fingers from prolonged mechanical work, and their blood stained the wooden abacus frames.

Four months later.

Late summer of 1963.

When the crisp sound of the last abacus bead falling echoed through the calculation room, the entire hall fell into a deathly silence.

Old Deng held the final summary data sheet, his hands trembling violently.

His tears welled up without warning and fell onto the paper stained with sweat and oil.

"It's closed...it's all closed!" Old Deng turned around abruptly, looking at Lin Yang, who was also standing at the door, his voice sharp and piercing with extreme excitement. "President Lin! The fluid dynamics equations, the neutron transport equations, the explosion mechanics model—they all fit perfectly! We've found it! We've created a completely Chinese theoretical design for the atomic bomb!"

boom!

A deafening cheer erupted from the air-raid shelter.

Those usually reserved and taciturn intellectuals were now embracing each other like madmen, laughing and crying. Some threw draft papers into the air, like snowflakes dancing in the sky.

Lin Yang strode forward and firmly grasped Old Deng's hand.

"Old Deng, you are a hero of the country!" Lin Yang's voice trembled slightly.

Nine calculations, and his name will be remembered in history.

The breakthrough in the theoretical solution was like opening up the Ren and Du meridians. The subsequent work proceeded smoothly and effortlessly.

Immediately afterwards, another exciting top-secret message was delivered to Base 211 by a special train under armed escort.

A nuclear fuel extraction plant codenamed 504 in a certain location in Northwest China.

Those unsung heroes who wore heavy protective suits, risked enormous radiation, and stood guard day and night in front of the centrifuges have finally completed the most crucial step.

China has successfully extracted its first batch of uranium-235 that meets weapons-grade purity requirements!

It was a heavy suitcase made of a special lead alloy.

When the platoon leader of the escorting internal security force handed the suitcase to Lin Yang with both hands, Lin Yang felt that he was not just receiving a piece of metal, but the cornerstone for the entire Chinese nation to stand once again at the top of the world.

The core fuel problem has been solved.

The theoretical model has been improved.

The next step is to transform these cold blueprints and deadly radioactive materials into truly devastating national weapons.

1964 years.

The wheels of time keep turning, and the sandstorms in Northwest China continue to rage, but the atmosphere inside Base 211 has become tense to the breaking point.

The third basement level houses a special assembly workshop.

This is the most secure area in the entire base. It is surrounded by one-meter-thick reinforced concrete walls, and the air filtration system emits a low hum.

Shen Zhiyuan was wearing a cleanroom suit, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat. As the chief engineer, he had to personally oversee every step of the assembly process.

On a specially made workbench in the center of the workshop, there is a hemispherical metal device with a structure so complex it's dazzling.

This is the core component of the atomic bomb that was about to shock the world.

It employs the most advanced and challenging "implosion" design. This means that dozens of high-energy conventional explosives must be precisely installed on the surface of the sphere. These explosives must detonate simultaneously within the same microsecond, generating immense centripetal pressure to compress the internal uranium nucleus to a supercritical state, thereby triggering nuclear fission.

If the difference is even a microsecond, or a millimeter, the cutting precision of the explosive is off, all the effort will be in vain.

"President Lin, the final step in processing the explosive lens has been completed." Shen Zhiyuan pointed to the yellow explosive blocks that exuded a dangerous aura next to him, his voice low.

Lin Yang stood outside the explosion-proof glass curtain wall, gazing intently at everything.

He recalled the days at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, when those two good-for-nothings, Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong, actually dared to try and exchange a few bottles of fake Moutai and a few gold bars for the right to work there.

If we let selfish, worthless junk, who would even scrap ordinary parts, come here, it would be a desecration of this great project.

The people responsible for cutting the explosives here are the top-notch, level-eight fitters gathered from all over the country. Every cut they make teeters on the edge of life and death. High-energy explosives are extremely sensitive; the slightest static electricity or overheating from friction can instantly turn the entire workshop to ashes.

"Assemble it," Lin Yang commanded, his tone cold and resolute.

Several of the most skilled technicians stepped forward, their hands as steady as Mount Tai.

Time passed by, second by second.

The engagement of every component and the connection of every detonation circuit were on everyone's nerves.