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

Lu Qinghe pressed the short side of the triangle ruler against the red mark of the third azimuth point on the map, pressed the protractor against the azimuth baseline, and drew a thin line along the scale with a pencil.

This is the ninth set of data this afternoon.

The three azimuth lines converge inwards, and the area circled by the red pencil degenerates into a flattened ellipse with a major axis of less than 800 meters.

Chen Zhiyuan stood behind her, holding the torn-off record slip in his hand.

"0.8 degrees Celsius".

After Lu Qinghe finished drawing the last line, the tip of his pencil poked a small hole in the map.

Of the nine sets of data, seven intersect in circles with a diameter of less than one kilometer, and the centers of all the circles fall at the same point.

Chen Zhiyuan bent down and leaned closer to the map, his fingertip pointing to the contour line of the depression.

The eastern entrance to the abandoned camel trail is marked with a dry riverbed, flanked by wind-eroded hills, and to the north, half of an old rut remains, buried in sand.

"The center of each group is in this depression, and the farthest group is no more than 400 meters away."

He drew a cross in the center of the circle with a pencil and marked the time and confidence level.

Lu Qinghe picked up the triangle ruler and took a step back, his gaze sweeping over the legend area in the upper left corner of the map.

"There is an old bunker about 200 meters northeast of this location."

She moved her finger to the mark, the cracks from the chilblains on the edge of her nails glowing dark red under the kerosene lamp.

"It was built in the 1940s. Only half of the concrete frame remains on the ground. Three years ago, the surveying team marked that there might still be space underneath that hadn't collapsed."

Chen Zhiyuan looked up at her.

The depression itself offers no shelter, and the Gobi winds in winter can blow away tents. Any long-term stay requires a sturdy bunker, and this underground fortification happens to be located on the edge of the locked-down area.

Old Zhou cranked the telephone generator.

"Report to the duty officer at the communications command post: The second direction finding point has completed nine sets of synchronized azimuth data recordings. The three-point intersection accuracy is within 0.8 degrees. The locked area has a diameter of 800 meters, and the center is located in the dry riverbed depression at the eastern entrance of the abandoned camel trail."

He read out the six-digit coordinates and paused briefly.

"Two other things to report: In the past six hours, the pattern of three short pulses followed by one long pulse and then three short pulses has appeared a total of eighteen times, and the frequency is still rising. The carrier frequencies of the latest three pulse sets are 0.3 kHz higher than the calibration values, which may indicate that enemy stations are fine-tuning their frequencies."

The duty officer confirmed this through the receiver, and then gave instructions to await further orders.

Old Zhou hung up the microphone, his hand bearing red marks from the solder he'd burned the night before.

Lu Qinghe turned back to the map, slid his index finger along the contour line of the depression, and stopped at the old bunker marker.

"If there is sufficient space below, the antenna can be hidden under the concrete frame, covered with gauze during the day, and raised to transmit at night."

She lightly tapped the paper with her fingertips.

"The low-lying terrain acts as a natural shield, and the signal coming out from the bottom is reflected twice by the residual hills on both sides, creating multiple paths, which caused our previous inaccurate measurements."

Chen Zhiyuan wrote the last set of data timestamps into the notebook and closed the cover.

The delay line isolates false signals, and the true azimuth line converges to within 800 meters, which is sufficient to support ground operations.

He turned to the previous page of the notebook and arranged the frequency of a specific pattern in the past twenty-four hours into a curve.

Four times, six times, twelve times, eighteen times.

The upward curvature of the curve is accelerating.

"At this rate, it could exceed thirty times by this time tomorrow."

He used the tip of a pencil to mark the end of the curve.

Lu Qinghe's attention was drawn to the latest set of pulse waveforms flashing on the oscilloscope screen.

"The carrier frequency has increased a little more."

She leaned closer to the screen and used her finger to draw a line next to the fluorescent dot to compare it with the calibration value.

"It's even higher than the group from six hours ago, by nearly 0.5 kilohertz."

Chen Zhiyuan walked over and looked at the frequency envelope of the waveform.

"Tuning the frequency."

Lu Qinghe lowered her hand.

"Either it's to avoid listening frequencies, or the equipment itself is unstable and has started to drift."

"If it's a proactive frequency adjustment to avoidance."

"This means they know they're being watched."

Lu Qinghe interrupted him.

Knowing they're being watched, yet still accelerating the transmission, there's only one possibility: the last batch of intelligence is being transmitted, and they'll withdraw once it's finished.

The flame of the kerosene lamp in the wooden house flickered in the cold wind seeping through the cracks in the door, casting shimmering light and shadow on the military map.

Chen Zhiyuan picked up a blank telegram sheet and quickly wrote a paragraph with a pencil.

"Send this to Comrade Jiang Ming of Workshop No. 1, Third Electronics Factory, First Ministry of Machine Building, Beijing."

He handed the paper to Lao Zhou.

"The following is the information: the direction finding accuracy of the delay line is up to standard; the center of intersection is locked in the depression in the eastern section of Camel Road with an accuracy of 800 meters; the enemy station is suspected of actively tuning its frequency and accelerating its end; the window is estimated to be no more than 24 hours; the A02 and A03 can still work with the delay line; please continue the life test without interruption for the front line."

Old Zhou took the telegram and walked towards the door.

"Add one sentence."

Lu Qinghe called out to him.

"If the carrier frequency drift continues to shift upwards and exceeds the receiver's intermediate frequency bandwidth, the delay line parameters need to be reset. At that time, remote guidance from Beijing may be required."

Old Zhou nodded, wrapped his cotton-padded coat tighter, and rushed into the sandstorm outside.

Lu Qinghe looked at the map again, her gaze settling on the old bunker marker.

Concrete frame, underground space, depression for cover.

If the encirclement operation is launched, the troops entering the depression need to know what is underground.

She opened the drawer and pulled out a copy of the topographical survey left by the surveying team three years ago. On the yellowed, curled pages was a line of scribbled pencil notes.

The bunker entrance faces southwest, and its depth is estimated to be three to four meters; we did not enter.

Three years ago, nobody paid any attention to an abandoned fortification.

Workshop No. 1 of Beijing No. 3 Electronics Factory.

When Jiang Ming received the telegram, he was standing in front of the test station's recording table. The pointers of the five microammeters cast tiny shadows under the fluorescent light, all of which were firmly attached to the 284 mark.

260 hours.

He folded the telegram and stuffed it into the breast pocket of his work clothes, his gaze returning to the hourly recorded curves.

The front line has locked onto the target, and the time gained by the delay line is being consumed. The A02 and A03, together with the delay line, can hold out for another two days.

Two days later, it will take at least ten more days for the type B tube to run for 500 hours.

The frontline workers won't live to see that day.

The telegram stated that there was no need to interrupt the front line, indicating that Chen Zhiyuan judged that the front line would have a backup line in the short term.

What truly worried him were the five pipes in front of him.

Jiang Ming opened the notebook and found the page on suspension preparation.

Ethylene 03 exhibited water quality issues after 150 hours, with its thin coating being the contributing factor and impurities migrating rapidly. Ethylene 01 and Ethylene 02 had thicker coatings and the largest buffer margin, while Ethylene 04 and Ethylene 05 were in the middle range.

Based on the ratio of migration rate to coating thickness, the exposure window for 04 should be between 280 and 310 hours, while that for 05 is slightly later.

He circled the words "300h" in his notebook with a pencil and turned to the next page to check the test data for the deionized water column output.

Approximately 200 ml per hour.

If all four tubes were to be reworked and have their coatings replaced, based on the volume of the electrophoresis tank for each tube, at least two liters of pure water would be needed to re-prepare the suspension. Including the consumption for rinsing and dilution steps, the total amount would be close to three liters.

Three liters divided by 200 milliliters per hour equals fifteen hours of uninterrupted water output. Adding the time for processes such as electrophoretic deposition and step sintering, the entire rework would take at least two days, and the 500-hour timer would have to be reset to zero and start over.

impossible.

The defense had just concluded, and Zhou Changlin's conclusion, clearly stated in black and white, recommended that the project continue. If he were to voluntarily stop the machine and rework at this point, it would be tantamount to contradicting himself, and Xu Chongwen would likely seize the opportunity to make a scene.

Jiang Ming's gaze lingered on the blank page of the notebook, and the tip of his pencil left a dot of ink on the paper.

We must find a way to operate without shutting down the system.

Xiao Zhao jogged over from the testing station, clutching a newly torn record slip in his hand. When he reached Jiang Ming, he quickly stopped, his shoes making a short, sharp scraping sound on the cement floor.

"Jiang, number 04 is incorrect."

He handed over the note, his fingertip pointing to the data at the 14th minute of the 261st hour.

284 became 283.7.