I started with a ship full of max-level veterans, and I'm just a complete noob.

Zhou Changlin took the report slowly, as if he were receiving evidence that needed to be re-examined.

The fourteenth page was facing him, and the numbers marked with double red lines were so clear under the fluorescent light that they could not be ignored.

285.

His gaze lingered on the number for two seconds, then shifted to the right, landing on the Soviet reference value marked in pencil.

221.

Ma Gong leaned over from the side, his body leaning forward at twice the angle of before, his lips slightly parted and not closing for a moment.

The best production record for the same type of tube at the Leningrad Electron Tube Plant in the Soviet Union was 221 microamps, which was the peak value accumulated by their decades of technology.

The acceptance line for military products is set at 185 microamps. Products that can consistently achieve 200 microamps or more are considered to be of superior quality.

285 microamps is not just a matter of being significantly higher.

Zhou Changlin remained silent and continued turning to page fifteen.

那里是五支乙型管的静态参数对比表，乙零一到乙零五的发射电流分别是285、284、284、285、284，标準差栏写着0.4微安。

The five pipes looked as if they had been poured from the same mold.

Ma Gong finally pulled his gaze away from the numbers and turned to look at Jiang Ming. The scrutiny in his eyes had been replaced by something else.

"A differential current of 0.4 microamps across the five tubes?"

His voice carried a hint of barely suppressed urgency.

"Soviet acceptance standards allow for variations of plus or minus eight microamperes within the same batch, but yours..."

The second half of the sentence was left unsaid because he could calculate it himself.

±0.4 is one-twentieth of ±8.

Engineer Liu didn't probe the screen; he simply found the same page on the copy of the report in front of him and looked at the variance value three times.

He unscrewed and screwed the pen cap back on in his hand, much faster than before.

He found the only angle to question it, and his voice was slightly higher than usual.

"No matter how good the static data looks, it doesn't equal lifespan. 500 hours is the standard for equipment acceptance. How many hours have you reached yet?"

Jiang Ming was not provoked and maintained the same pace as before.

"The report is on page sixteen; just turn the page."

Zhou Changlin has already found it.

Page sixteen shows the hourly emission current curves of the five tubes from the 10th hour after startup to the 250th hour.

The five lines almost merge into one, with a narrow band width of no more than ±0.5 microamps.

Only the one marked as B03 showed a brief dip at the 150-hour mark.

The annotation in red next to it reads: "Water quality issues caused impurities to migrate from the coating interface. The suspension has been replaced with deionized water and reconstituted to repair the problem. The current level is stable at 281 microamps."

Zhou Changlin pressed his index finger on the line of red annotations for a few seconds, then continued flipping through the pages.

Page seventeen contains the pulse interference simulation test curves.

Under simulated strong interference conditions, the transmission current of the Yi-01 satellite decreased from 285 microamps to 284 microamps.

A drop of one microampere results in a recovery time of less than two seconds.

Under the same conditions, the typical drop of the Soviet-made tube of the same type is 15 to 20 microamps, with a recovery time of more than 30 seconds.

Ma Gong closed the Soviet manual.

Instead of slamming it shut in anger, he slowly, like closing a coffin, laid the blue hard cover flat on the table.

He removed his hand from the cover and placed it on his knee.

Still unwilling to give up, Liu's lips tightened as he grasped at the last straw.

"Two hundred and fifty hours is less than five hundred hours, and no one can guarantee that there won't be any problems in the last two hundred and fifty hours. This cannot be bypassed by theoretical deduction."

Jiang Ming looked at him and nodded.

"Engineer Liu is right, 250 hours is indeed not 500 hours."

He didn't offer any explanation or guarantees; he simply told the truth.

"Testing is still ongoing in Workshop No. 1. The expert team is requested to come to the site at any time to inspect the test benches and real-time data. The final delivery will be considered when the test has run for 500 hours."

The weight of this statement lies in its tone.

Do not evade, do not make excuses, and do not substitute theory for facts.

I acknowledge that there isn't enough time, but I invite you to see it for yourself.

Zhou Changlin looked up and glanced at Engineer Liu.

There was a hint in that look that only those in the same profession would understand.

Stop bothering me.

The data is there for all to see. It's reasonable for you to question the 500-hour timeframe, but you can't dismiss the curve from the first 250 hours just because the timeframe hasn't been reached yet.

Engineer Liu understood that look in his eyes.

The pen cap was finally screwed on and placed on the table, never to be picked up again.

Zhou Changlin continued flipping through the report.

He paused for ten seconds after each page turn, his gaze sweeping over the test batch number and control variable records next to the key parameters.

Page 18 lists the electric field parameters, time, temperature, and suspension concentration for electrophoretic deposition, with each line corresponding to a uniquely numbered experimental log.

Page 19, Suspension preparation process, acetone dehydration method, pH titration process, water source.

He lightly drew a vertical line next to "triple distilled water" with his pencil, asked no further questions, and turned to the next page.

Xu Chongwen sat up straight in the audience.

His palm pressed against the brass clasp of his briefcase, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure.

He opened his mouth, and spoke almost twice as fast as before.

"The data may look impressive, but 250 hours doesn't explain the lifespan of equipment. Besides, this report lacks endorsement from a third-party organization..."

The enamel mug belonging to Factory Director Zhang made a sound on the table.

It's not heavy, but it's enough to make everyone turn their heads.

"Dr. Xu, are you the respondent or just observing?"

Factory Director Zhang did not stand up; he simply placed the jar firmly and looked straight at the audience.

"The public gallery has no right to ask questions; that's the rule."

Xu Chongwen's second half of his sentence got stuck in his throat.

His facial muscles tensed for a moment before slowly relaxing.

His lips closed, and his body slowly leaned back in the chair.

He gripped the leather briefcase so tightly that a deep mark was left on the strap.

The meeting room fell silent again, with only the sound of Zhou Changlin turning the pages of the report remaining.

He flipped all the way to the signature section at the end of page twenty-three.

The signatures of Wu Hanzhang, Lao Sun, and Xiao Zhao are all there, along with the joint stamp of the security department.

After closing the report, Zhou Changlin's gaze fell on the kraft paper envelope on the lectern.

"On page five of the report, a derivation of a critical temperature of 378.5℃ is cited, with the source listed as a private letter from Qian Xuesen."

He gestured with his chin towards the envelope.

"Is that the original?"

Jiang Ming pushed the envelope from the lectern to Zhou Changlin's side.

"The six-page manuscript, a complete path integral from the shear stress model to the critical temperature, follows the Green's function path, which is completely different from the dislocation climb path on my blackboard, but the conclusion converges to the same number."

Zhou Changlin reached out and took the envelope, pressing his thumb on the wax seal of the "Beijing Institute of Mechanics".

He looked up at Jiang Ming, the horizontal line between his eyebrows particularly clear under the fluorescent light.

"The derivation in Mr. Qian's letter uses completely different mathematical tools than the derivation on your blackboard?"

Jiang Ming nodded.

Zhou Changlin's fingers were already inserted into the envelope, and his thumb lifted the wax seal.

Whether the two independent paths truly converge at the number 378.5℃ can be verified by opening the letter.