Courtyard House: I Rely on Time-Space Trade to Build a Nation

Late April, Yungang.

There weren't many people in the mountains before, but they've become quite lively in the last two years.

First, a low-speed wind tunnel was built in 52, and now there's a new one.

Zhao Ping'an's special train stopped at a small station, where he transferred to a car to go into the mountains.

The road was newly built. The driver drove slowly, saying that it had rained the past two days and he was worried about the road being slippery.

Comrade Zhuang is already waiting at the mountain pass.

He was a student of Qian Xuesen, an aerodynamicist, and spoke slowly and deliberately. Seeing Zhao Ping'an get out of the car, he went up to shake hands.

"Minister Zhao, this way please."

As you walk further in, a large opening is carved out of the mountain, revealing the steel structure inside.

Huge, cold and hard, it's intimidating to look at.

Comrade Zhuang explained the parameters as he walked.

How many meters long, how many tons heavy, how many megawatts of power, and how many times the speed of sound it can produce.

Zhao Pingan listened only halfway before eagerly asking, "How fast can it blow?"

Comrade Zhuang said, "It can be adjusted continuously from 1.2 to 5 times the speed of sound."

Zhao Ping'an nodded and didn't ask any more questions. The core equipment was already equipped; there was no need to ask anything else.

We walked further in and arrived at the observation room.

A large glass window faces the test section of the wind tunnel, which is empty and contains nothing.

Comrade Zhuang said, "Minister Zhao, would you like to see a test drive? We happen to have a test run today."

Zhao Ping'an immediately nodded, "That's great, it'll be good for me to see something new."

The fan starts.

The sound rose from low to high, from a buzzing sound to a shrill whistle, and finally shook the entire observation room.

A slight tremor could be seen on the glass window. Zhao Ping'an stood motionless in front of the window, looking at the model inside that remained completely still—it couldn't be felt from the outside, but a wind blowing at five times the speed of sound was blowing inside.

A few minutes later, the machine stopped. The sound gradually faded, until only a buzzing sound remained in my ears.

Comrade Zhuang handed over a set of data.

Zhao Ping'an took the document. Although he couldn't understand most of it due to his technical limitations, he still admired the expert. Since his time, the Republic's wind tunnel industry had caught up with and surpassed the world's best. Moreover, Zhao Ping'an hadn't come today to watch the wind tunneling, but to cheer the expert on.

"Comrade Zhuang, the new wind tunnel is excellent. Thank you for your contributions to the Republic. However, there's something I need to criticize you for," Zhao Ping'an said with a smile.

"Don't be too frugal. Although the Republic isn't exactly wealthy yet..."

However, the funding to support your cutting-edge research is more than sufficient.

I heard you calculated the costs several times to save money? And finally approved the most economical plan?

"Yes, Minister Zhao, many things can be done slowly, there's no need to waste resources..." Comrade Zhuang realized that Zhao Ping'an wasn't really criticizing him, so he explained.

"Comrade Zhuang, your intentions are good, but a certain degree of thrift is also necessary."

However, I suggest that you also consider accelerating the research.

Some minor things don't need too much consideration. As long as they don't affect quality or usability, sometimes wasting a few resources can help get it done sooner.

When we are ahead of the international timeline, it might bring greater benefits to the country's military development.

I came here today mainly to cheer you on.

Comrade Zhuang, please feel free to take charge; this research is your responsibility.

Preparing supplies and resources for your research is my responsibility.

"Don't worry, we're no longer penniless; we have some savings now..."

"Yes, Minister Zhao, I will do my best."

Zhao Ping'an could tell that the other party was still not open-minded and would probably continue to be frugal in the future, but that was alright. This matter couldn't be resolved with just one conversation. He was just opening a gap today and giving a guarantee; he would leave the rest to Old Qian.

……

Mid-May, Northwest Nuclear Test Base.

Zhao Ping'an arrived two days early. Old Qian had been here for a week.

The two stood at the observation point, looking at the target area in the distance.

The sky was very blue, with few clouds and a gentle breeze. Mr. Qian said the weather conditions were suitable, and we could fight tomorrow.

Zhao Ping'an asked with a smile, "Are you confident?"

Professor Qian replied just as easily: "The things you gave us are very comprehensive, and we are all very conscientious and responsible. The chance of anything unexpected is very small. We just came to take a look."

The plane took off the following morning.

It was a modified bomber, slowly climbing higher and becoming a smaller and smaller dot in the sky.

There were dozens of people at the observation point, but no one spoke; they all looked up at the screen.

Zhao Ping'an stood at the very front, with Old Qian beside him.

The plane reached the designated altitude, flew level, and then—

bomb.

A black dot fell from the belly of the plane, getting smaller and smaller until it was almost invisible.

Then, a burst of white light suddenly erupted in the air.

Brighter than the sun. So bright it hurts your eyes, making you instinctively close them. Even with your eyes closed, you can still feel that white light, penetrating through your eyelids.

Zhao Ping'an didn't close his eyes; he just stared.

The white light faded, and a mushroom cloud rose, churning and billowing. Below was a fireball, above was smoke and dust, tumbling and shooting upwards, growing higher and higher, larger and larger.

It is shaped like a giant mushroom, and its color changes from bright orange to dark red, and finally to grayish black.

The shockwave arrived much later.

A rumbling sound, like muffled thunder, rolled over, making one's chest tingle.

The wind followed, whipping up the sand from the ground, which stung my face.

The observation point was completely silent.

Then, people started clapping. One, two, more and more, until finally dozens of people were clapping.

Some people took off their hats, some had tears in their eyes, and some patted the shoulder of the person next to them, unable to speak.

That evening, at the base's canteen.

A simple long table, with enamel mugs filled with wine.

The cooks added several dishes: braised pork, stewed chicken, scrambled eggs, and a plate of peanuts.

Mr. Qian drank quite a bit.

He's usually a man of few words and restrained when it comes to drinking, but tonight he was drinking one glass after another.

Zhao Ping'an tried to persuade him twice, but to no avail, so he gave up and was unusually happy.

Later, as they drank, Old Qian pulled Zhao Ping'an aside and said, "Back when I was in America, I never dared to imagine that I would be able to stand here and see this so soon."

Zhao Pingan poured him a glass of water: "Now you dare to think about it."

Mr. Qian took the water glass, but didn't drink it; he placed it on the table.

He stared blankly at the glass of water for a long time before saying...

"The year I returned to China, someone asked me if I could develop an atomic bomb."

I said yes. But deep down, I was a little unsure; I didn't know just how poor China's industrial base really was.

After a pause.

"Later you said you had something for me, and after I looked at it, I was even more unsure—where did these things come from?"

I didn't dare ask, and I didn't ask. These years have just passed like this.

Old Qian raised his head and looked at Zhao Ping'an, his eyes red, whether from drinking or something else was unclear.

"Comrade Ping An, thank you."

Zhao Pingan patted him on the shoulder and stood up.

"Alright, go back to sleep. We have things to do tomorrow."

The next day, Zhao Ping'an hurriedly boarded the special train back to Beijing.

Liu Ying called.

"Minister Zhao, the chip project in the Northwest is progressing smoothly. The first batch of trainees has already started hands-on practice, and Comrade Huang said that those who picked it up quickly can already operate independently."

At the end of June, Zhao Ping'an received another telegram from Qian Lao.

The Dongfeng-2A missile has been finalized. It has a range of 1,500 kilometers, meets accuracy standards, and can carry a nuclear warhead.

The telegram was short; the last sentence read: "The two bombs are about to be combined."

After reading the telegram, Zhao Pingan put it aside.

There was another telegram on the table, sent by Liu Ying: "The chip project has made progress; you'd better come over."

It was evening when the train arrived in Northwest China. The platform in July was sweltering; the sun hadn't completely set, and steam rose from the concrete floor that had been baking in the sun all day.

Liu Ying was waiting on the platform. She had lost a little weight and gotten a bit tanned, but she was in good spirits.

Zhao Ping'an got out of the car, and Liu Ying greeted him: "Minister."

Zhao Ping'an nodded: "Go directly to the factory."

The factory is not far from the station, only a 20-minute walk away.

Five production lines occupy three workshops, and they are still running at this moment.

Through the glass windows of the workshop, you can see people in white coats walking around, some sitting in front of microscopes, and others adjusting equipment.

Liu Ying led the way inside, saying as they walked, "Comrades Huang and Lin have basically been here for the past few months. For the first two months, there were problems every day: the lithography machine wasn't aligned properly, the diffusion furnace temperature control was unstable, the material purity wasn't high enough... we had to fill in each problem one by one."

Zhao Ping'an didn't speak, he just listened.

"In April, the first production line produced the first batch of usable products, but the yield rate was only five percent."

Comrade Huang sat in the lab until 3 a.m. that day. I went in to check on him, and he was staring blankly at those few pieces of material.

Liu Ying paused.

"We adjusted it little by little. The yield rate reached 10% in May and 15% in June. Last week, Comrade Huang said, 'We can invite you to take a look now.'"

As she approached the workshop entrance, Liu Ying pushed the door open.

A blast of cool air from the air conditioner mixed with the smell of chemical reagents hit me.

It was very quiet inside, with only the low hum of the machines running.

Comrade Huang was sitting in front of a microscope, his back to the door. Comrade Lin, who was looking at data next to him, noticed them first and nudged Comrade Huang on the shoulder.

Comrade Huang turned around and stood up. His eye sockets were a little sunken, but his eyes were bright.

"Minister Zhao."

Zhao Ping'an walked over, looked at him, and then at Comrade Lin. Both of them had lost weight.

Zhao Pingan said, "Thank you for your hard work."

Comrade Huang didn't reply. He picked up a small metal box from the worktable, opened it, took something out of it, and held it in his palm.

"Minister Zhao, I have accomplished my mission. You see."

It was something the size of a fingernail.

It's black, flat, with thin metal legs sticking out from both sides, like a little worm crawling around.

Zhao Ping'an looked down. The thing gleamed faintly under the light, its metal feet so thin they were almost invisible.

Comrade Huang was somewhat excited. "The first batch of samples. Small-scale integrated circuits, twenty to thirty micrometers in size, with dozens of transistors."

Entirely made in China, production a success!

Zhao Ping'an didn't say anything, but reached out and took it.

That thing was very light, so light that you could hardly feel its weight.

He held it in his palm and examined it against the light. On the small black square, he could vaguely see some fine lines.

The people standing next to him didn't say anything, they just looked at him.

After a long while, Zhao Ping'an raised his head and looked at Comrade Huang.

What is the yield rate?

Comrade Huang said, "Seventeen percent. The best batches can reach twenty percent."

Zhao Ping'an nodded and placed the chip back into Comrade Huang's palm.

"How long will it take for things to stabilize?"

Comrade Huang said, "Give us six months. We can supply small batches by the end of the year. Next year... next year we can supply on a large scale."

Comrade Huang thought for a moment, then continued speaking.

"The problem now is that the process is not stable. Each line has its own parameters, and if you change a line, you have to readjust them."

Another issue is the materials; the purity can fluctuate occasionally, and when it does, the yield drops.

Give us another six months, and we can resolve all of this.

Zhao Ping'an nodded and asked, "What can we do now?"

Comrade Huang was taken aback.

Zhao Pingan asked, "What can this thing be used for now?"

Comrade Huang thought for a moment and said, "The simplest logical operations: AND gate, OR gate, NAND gate."

More complex cases require higher levels of integration.

Zhao Pingan asked, "Will the radar work?"

Comrade Huang glanced at Comrade Lin.

Comrade Lin continued, "With the current level of integration, building a signal processing circuit is a bit of a stretch, but we can give it a try."

"If you give us time, we can first break down the functions the radar needs and piece them together using several chips..."

Zhao Ping'an interrupted her: "How long will it take?"

Comrade Lin said, "Six months. Give us six months, and we can make the signal processing chips needed for the radar."

Zhao Ping'an couldn't help but smile, but his voice was extremely solemn, "Okay, I will have the relevant comrades communicate with you later. If you need anything, or have any requests, contact Liu Ying. If Liu Ying can't solve it, come directly to me. But the radar problem must be solved before next year."

"Yes, we guarantee to complete the mission!" Even though they didn't know what the plan was, they could tell how important Zhao Ping'an was talking about.

The next morning, Zhao Pingan went to the workshop again.

This time, Liu Ying didn't accompany him; he wandered around inside by himself.

Walk from one workshop to another, see one line from another.

The worker, wearing a white lab coat, was operating a microscope, and he stood beside him watching for a while. The worker seemed a little nervous; his hand trembled slightly, but he steadied himself.

Zhao Ping'an didn't say anything and walked away.

When we reached the third line, Comrade Huang caught up with us.

"Minister Zhao, there's one more thing."

Zhao Pingan stopped.

Comrade Huang took the chip out of his pocket and held it in his palm.

"Please take this with you."

Zhao Pingan looked down at the small black cube.

Comrade Huang said, "This is one of the best pieces from the first batch. Having it with you will be a nice keepsake."

Zhao Ping'an glanced at him and reached out to take it.

The chip lay in my palm, so light it was almost weightless.

Zhao Ping'an took out a small exchange box from his pocket, put it inside, and said something that made Comrade Huang's eyes redden.

"Okay, I'll take this. Remember to give me one of the first batches of every technological advancement in the future."

Someday, I want to build an exhibition hall.

"To ensure future generations understand that the development of semiconductors is inseparable from the efforts and hard work of each and every one of you..."