She stole the spotlight, though she was completely oblivious to it, remaining immersed in her own world as if the outside noise was separated from her by an invisible barrier.
However, Zhang Mingyuan, the director of the research institute at the eye of the storm, was not as relaxed and joyful as he appeared on the surface.
He was indeed excited, excited by the epoch-making significance of the robotic legs and arms.
But when he received the detailed report from the Red Star Machinery Factory on the manufacturing process of the core components of the "first generation of basic neural connection-assisted exoskeleton", as well as a copy of the mechanical hand design drawing that Mingzhao had personally drawn and that he treasured, a huge sense of confusion and powerlessness surged up.
He locked himself in his office, staring at the blueprints spread out on his large desk, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.
Next to it are the wing design drawings for the "Dongfeng-7" new fighter jet, which is currently the most troublesome issue for the research institute.
That's where the problem lies!
Mingzhao's design drawings are exquisite, imaginative, and full of wisdom that transcends time.
However! The performance requirements of several core materials involved, the machining tolerances of certain precision components, and especially the manufacturing processes of those micro-sensors and neural signal converters... With the current technological reserves of Hongxing Factory, or even looking at the whole country, they simply cannot manufacture them!
The report clearly states: All known materials and the highest precision processing equipment available were tried, but the key parameters in the "basic requirements" specified on the drawings could not be met. The error rate far exceeded the allowable range, and the material strength or conductivity was substandard.
“Basic requirements…” Zhang Mingyuan’s finger pressed heavily on the four clearly printed Song typeface characters on the drawing, and he shook his head with a wry smile. “If these are the basic requirements, then our current technology is still in the Stone Age?”
The excited yet helpless voice of the old engineer from Hongxing Factory still echoed in his ears: "Director Zhang! It's not that we didn't try our best! It's just... it's just that even a skilled cook can't cook without rice! There are many parts of these things on the blueprints that we're still figuring out the principles of, let alone making! This... how did Comrade Mingzhao manage to make these things? What materials did she use? What equipment did she use?"
"Yes! How did she do that?!" Zhang Mingyuan suddenly stood up and paced restlessly in the office.
He visited the Huo family's courtyard several times, and apart from piles of old parts and tools, there were no sophisticated instruments or materials that defied common sense!
The origins of her parts, apart from the batch ordered from the Red Star Factory, remain a mystery!
Does she really have the ability to turn stones into gold and create things out of thin air?
This idea is absurd, but it is currently the most reasonable explanation!
Zhang Mingyuan felt a wave of dizziness. Mingzhao's value far exceeded his initial expectations!
She not only possesses design concepts that are ahead of their time, but also masters the incomprehensible "black box" technology that enables these concepts!
Just then, another urgent document on his desk caught his eye—it was the latest report from the "Dongfeng-7" project team.
"The wing flutter problem remains unresolved at critical speeds... Attempts at solutions A, B, and C have all failed... The material fatigue limit is below design expectations... The conflict between structural strength and weight reduction is significant... We request an extension of the project timeline and a reassessment of the design..."
At the end of the document, the four bright red characters "urgently need to be resolved" pierced Zhang Mingyuan's heart like needles.
The Dongfeng-7 was a new type of fighter jet into which countless people poured their efforts and placed high hopes! Its wing design adopted the most cutting-edge theories at the time, but just like Mingzhao's blueprints, it got stuck in the manufacturing process!
The ideal material strength and structural precision marked on the design drawings are simply impossible to achieve with current industrial capabilities!
The project team has tried several compromise solutions, either sacrificing performance or increasing weight, but has been unable to reach the safety threshold required by the design.
Looking at the red question marks on the "Dongfeng-7" wing drawings, marked with "insufficient material properties" and "machining precision cannot be guaranteed," and then looking at Mingzhao's "basic" drawings, which were also marked "cannot be achieved with existing technology" but have already become a physical object...
A bold, almost insane idea cleaved through the fog in Zhang Mingyuan's mind like lightning!
Since Mingzhao can create mechanical legs and hands that are ahead of their time using materials and processes that are "impossible to achieve with existing technology," then... what about the wings of the "Dongfeng-7"?
The idea made his heart pound! But a deeper worry followed: Would Mingzhao be willing to help? She seemed only interested in solving "minor problems" that piqued her own interest. National strategy and military needs—were they less appealing to her than a disassembled old alarm clock?
But this is the Dongfeng-7! It's a national strategic asset! It's a sharp sword guarding the blue sky!
Zhang Mingyuan took a deep breath, a resolute glint in his eyes. He had to try, no matter what! He grabbed the phone on the table and dialed Huo Hua's number, a number he had specially approved for installation to facilitate contact with Mingzhao.
Huo Hua answered the phone: "Dean Zhang?"
"Howard, is Comrade Mingzhao home? I have something very important that I would like to ask her in person."
Zhang Mingyuan's voice carried an unprecedented solemnity and a hint of barely perceptible plea.
Howard paused, seemingly looking in a certain direction: "Yes. Commander, you're coming over?"
"Yes! I'm coming right away!" Zhang Mingyuan hung up the phone, immediately grabbed the Dongfeng-7 wing design drawings and the failure report covered in red crosses from the table, and rushed out of the office. He couldn't wait any longer!
**The Huo Family Courtyard.**
Mingzhao was sitting at a small stone table, with a thick foreign mechanical manual open in front of him. He was playing with several oddly shaped metal parts in his hands, as if he was comparing them to something.
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