A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

How deep is it?

It's as deep as the Mariana Trench, of course!

Little Mulan, do you think the reason why the route around the Cape of Good Hope, which dates back to the Middle Ages, was chosen was because it has many ports of call and passes through many countries!

Now that we've finally found a universally accepted pretext, it would be a real waste not to do more with it!

Let's not say too much to this girl, lest she have another brain fart and do something outrageous...

However, don't talk about conspiracy theories or being a pawn.

This is simply because we're poor...

If he could, do you think Comrade Dequn would happily hop on a plane and get as far away from those two notorious troublemakers as possible...

……

Mulan used her leg to pull a much smaller gadget than a regular radio out from under the bed. The brat didn't offer to help; she just watched Comrade Dequn busy himself with it.

"Huh? You actually know how to use it!"

Comrade Dequn skillfully operated the radio, inputting a set of longwave frequencies and encryption codes not commonly used within the mission. A few minutes later, a brief digital instruction was received and deciphered.

When Mulan saw the few words on the coded message that represented a very high-level confirmation instruction, and Comrade Dequn's obscure identity code that clearly stated "Outer Jiao Department, Nanyang Group 1 (non-publicly organized)," she was instantly speechless.

"Can't afford to offend them, can't afford to offend them... This is confidential!"

Mulan shrank her neck and tried to slip away.

Zhang Dequn ignored her grumbling and carefully destroyed the telegram paper.

"The framework of the 'commune' can be retained; it is a product of wisdom. However, all specific operations must be 'de-contextualized.' We cannot directly apply the provisions of domestic charters; they must be transformed into the self-governing regulations of the local rubber plantation owners' mutual aid association."

Personnel training will be conducted by 'retired forest rangers' or 'security consultants' arranged by Comrade Zhongming. Equipment will be imported through completely undisclosed commercial channels under the guise of 'agricultural machinery' or 'security equipment.'

Comrade Dequn looked at Mulan with a profound gaze: "You want to plant a thousand red flags. The idea is good, but the red flags cannot be displayed directly. What we need to do is let this land grow its own red genes. You have provided a wonderful 'shell,' and now it is up to us to ensure that what hatches in this 'shell' can not only survive, but also not be targeted before it even hatches."

The shouts of crew members preparing to dock could be heard from the deck.

The outline of Jakarta Port gradually became clear in the fog.

Zhang Dequn straightened his unremarkable shirt collar. In that instant, the aura of a "bookkeeper" vanished from him, replaced by an aura that blended into the crowd.

"Comrade Mulan, your original plan remains unchanged. Continue to rescue people and make contact as needed. Forget about your romantic notion of the 'commune.' It will appear in another form when needed."

He paused, then added, as if explaining, or perhaps admonishing: "Remember, here, the highest principle of action is not whether the flag is bright, but whether the bloodline can continue in silence, and whether the roots can spread in the shadows. A true red flag is never planted, but grows out."

After saying this, he nodded slightly, turned around and walked towards the chaotic crowd that was about to dock. His figure quickly blended into the coolies, merchants and travelers on the dock, and became indistinguishable.

……

It's hard to tell apart from Comrade Zhang Dequn, who has quietly blended into the streets of Jakarta, and our silly kid who's been crawling around in the bottom of a submarine at the Darian Shipyard!

Unaware that his future wife had already begun planting red flags all over the world, Jiang Xia looked like a black rat just pulled out of an oil drum—the kind that's been soaked and bloated.

The sticky, black submarine-grade lubricating oil, mixed with accumulated grime, was no longer a patchwork of black and white on his face, but had completely soaked into every inch of his exposed skin.

Oil smudges gathered into a thin, shiny black stream on Jiang Xia's forehead, flowing down between his tightly furrowed brows. As it flowed past his eye sockets, it was partially blocked by his rapidly blinking eyelashes, splitting into several smaller streams of oil, some sliding down his cheeks, and some directly into his collar.

The tuft of hair on his forehead that was usually so restless was now completely subdued by the thick mixture of oil and sweat, like a small strand of soaked black seaweed, lying helplessly on his sweaty forehead, no longer able to stick up even a little bit.

Every time Jiang Xia held his breath and strained in the extremely confined space, all the muscles in his body tensed up like iron blocks. His clenched back teeth made his cheeks bulge out, and the oil on his skin was pulled out in strange patterns.

Sweat poured out from every pore, but it couldn't break through the thick layer of oil; it only made the greasy feeling more slippery and sticky.

A few drops of sweat mixed with oil stubbornly hung and stretched along the tip of his nose, finally "thudding" onto the metal component below, leaving a small dark dot.

"Brother! Do you want to come out and rest for a while!" Old Wang looked at Jiang Xia, who had crawled into the maintenance opening, and his eyes were almost filled with tears.

Jiang Xia really wanted to turn around and roll her eyes at him. Was this supposed to be a place to rest? Unfortunately, you couldn't even turn around here!

This is because it is the lowest level of the Hayashio-class submarine's drive shaft compartment, which is also the most cramped corner of the entire submarine.

The passageway was so narrow that it was difficult to even turn sideways, and the hatch was as small as a dog hole. The interior space was only large enough for one person to crouch and operate, and even turning around required crawling.

"This little notebook is so stingy!" Jiang Xia cursed inwardly. "It's a submarine weighing over 700 tons, but the interior is made like a matchbox! It's one thing for the passageways to be small, but even the drive shaft compartment is so cramped—didn't they consider the ease of maintenance?"

Tsk, you silly boy, you've misunderstood Little Notebook. Guess why our ancestors always used the word "little" when referring to them?

It's not just about belittling them—there's data to back it up!

According to the 1960 National Nutrition Survey report issued by the Ministry of Health and Welfare:

The average height of the 20-24 year old males is only 164.3 cm and their weight is 57.8 kg.

Meanwhile, the average height of young people in northern my country during the same period was generally over 172 cm and their weight was over 65 kg.

The master craftsmen at the Darian shipyard were all burly Shandong men, with broad shoulders and thick waists. Just by standing there, their shadows could cover half of the hatch!

But when faced with this "dog hole," let alone crawling in to fix the shaft, you'd have to fold your ears up first just to stick your head in!

Therefore, the environment shapes the people, and the body shape determines the design.

When the Japanese were building the boat, they never imagined that a 180cm tall strongman would come to repair it. Their engineers could easily squeeze into it themselves, so they naturally felt it was "good enough".

The only person who could squeeze in there was Jiang Xia, that skinny guy...

Jiang Xia's personal involvement was also due to his own predicament. After all, this guy happened to be scanning the machine and accidentally spotted the fault.

Preliminary investigation revealed that the fault was located precisely at the junction of the tail shaft main sealing ring and the bearing housing at the deepest part of the compartment.

The damage wasn't entirely caused by the collision; it was more of a "legacy issue"—when the submarine was captured, no one ever imagined it would one day be able to sail again.

Therefore, during the process of forcibly towing it back to port by tugboat, the operation was inevitably somewhat reckless, resulting in slight deformation of the long propulsion shaft system under abnormal stress.

This deformation is almost imperceptible under static conditions, but it is enough to compromise the alignment accuracy, causing abnormal wear on the mating surfaces of the sealing ring and the bearing housing, which in turn leads to lubricant leakage.

If it is not completely repaired, it may not cause any problems in the short term.

However, once a submarine undertakes a deep-sea diving mission, the external seawater pressure will increase sharply with the depth!

At a water depth of 30 meters, the pressure reaches 3 atmospheres; at 100 meters, it reaches 10 atmospheres!

At that time, the damaged sealing ring is very likely to fail, and high-pressure seawater will backflow into the boat along the shaft gap.

At best, the engine compartment will flood; at worst...

The entire submarine has been transformed into an underwater iron coffin!

All the notebooks sank to the bottom, but Jiang Xia didn't care at all. However, he couldn't stop his comrades from infiltrating the enemy's lair as actors in the plan...

Then we can't be perfunctory!

So no matter how narrow the dog hole was or how smelly the oil was, Jiangxia had to crawl through it.

Only he could squeeze in there and fix it!