Chapter 142 Everything is ready, only the east wind is lacking
An abandoned electron tube factory on the outskirts of Beijing was completely transformed in just five days.
The group of veterans that Gao Jianjun recruited were like nails, firmly rooted in this land.
Discipline is ingrained in their bones; they work quickly and efficiently, without uttering a single nonsense.
They treated the factory area like a recruit camp, patrolling in three shifts and standing guard 24 hours a day. Not even a fly could get in, let alone a person.
Inside the factory, it was as hot as boiling water, steaming away.
Zhou Jimin and his gang have completely gone mad.
This man was like a wild horse that had broken free of all reins, leading his team as if they wanted to bring their bedding into the laboratory.
Those blueprints that Wang Jianguo once threw away as waste paper in a corner are now being smoothed out and hung on the wall.
A group of researchers in white lab coats, with dark circles under their eyes, were arguing passionately around the blueprints, or lying on the table, calculating frantically.
The entire factory area was filled with a mixed smell of rust, solder, and gunpowder.
Bai Zhu sat in the office; he was the one responsible for signing documents and disbursing money.
"Miss, a telegram from Mr. Du Kangnian in Shanghai." Qin Zheng walked in, his posture upright, and handed her a thin telegram.
"Speak." Bai Shu's gaze did not leave the factory site plan on the table, his fingertips lightly tracing its surface.
"The first batch of domestically produced equipment and raw materials has been loaded onto a special train and will arrive in Beijing the day after tomorrow." Qin Zheng spoke slowly, but every word was clear and forceful. "The payments have all been settled."
"How many?"
Qin Zheng paused for a moment: "As you instructed, Mr. Du used the network of connections left by your mother to bypass all the middlemen and get the goods directly from the source factory. The price has been driven down to the lowest possible level... Even so, a full three million was still deducted from the accounts."
Three million.
In an era when even those with ten thousand yuan could be featured in newspapers as role models, this amount of money would still exceed that of 99.99% of people, even in the 21st century.
But Bai Shu's expression remained unchanged. "I understand," she replied indifferently.
"Inform Professor Zhou that people can take turns resting, but the machines must not stop. As soon as the materials arrive, install them immediately."
"Yes." Qin Zheng nodded and turned to leave.
Funds flowed out like a floodgate opened, resulting in visible progress.
The laboratory changes its appearance every day. Various domestically produced basic equipment is installed and debugged, and the dense network of wires is laid out like a spider web. The entire factory area is full of newborn vitality and noise.
Everyone felt that good days had arrived, and everything was progressing rapidly.
However, this momentum crashed into an invisible wall just two weeks later.
That afternoon, there was a knock on the office door.
Zhou Jimin pushed open the door and came in. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot. But his overall mental state was completely different from the zombie-like figure he had been half a month ago.
It was a complex emotion unique to technicians, a mixture of extreme excitement and deep anxiety.
"Chairman Bai." He placed a report on the table, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded.
"We have completed the derivation of the basic theory. We are ready to move on to the next stage at any time."
"But...we're stuck."
Bai Zhu raised his eyes and made a gesture to "go on".
“The precision of our existing domestically produced equipment is far from sufficient.” Zhou Jimin pointed to a set of data on the report, a smile that looked more like a grimace on his face.
“Director Bai, the ‘Dawn’ project aims to achieve a precision of one ten-thousandth the thickness of a human hair. These domestically produced devices are fine for basic experiments and running data. But for the next stage of core data simulation… they are far from sufficient.”
He used a simple analogy: "It's like... trying to carve a flower with a butcher's knife. It's simply impossible."
Zhou Jimin took a deep breath, as if he had made up his mind:
"We need a batch of high-precision instruments from West Germany and Japan. Here is the list. Without these, all our previous theories and derivations are just waste paper, castles in the air."
Bai Zhu took the list.
The list above contained a long string of German and Japanese equipment model names she had never heard of before. Each model name was followed by its country of origin: West Germany or Japan.
In the 1980s, these high-tech devices, representing the pinnacle of global industrial civilization, were subject to strict embargoes and blockades against China.
Let alone a Hong Kong businesswoman like her, even if the national government intervened, it would be extremely difficult to obtain her.
This is the real "bottleneck".
It's not a matter of money; it's that even if you had the money, there's nowhere to buy it.
The entire project came to an abrupt halt, like a high-speed train being suddenly slammed on the brakes, all because of these few key pieces of equipment.
All the funds previously invested, and all the hard work that Zhou Jimin's team put in by exhausting their health, could be lost in an instant.
A deathly silence fell over the office.
Zhou Jimin watched Bai Shu nervously, his palms sweating. He was afraid that this excessively young patron would be deterred by this insurmountable barrier.
“I…I know it’s difficult,” he said with difficulty, “but it’s the only way.”
Bai Shu didn't speak, but just quietly looked at the list.
Her fingertips began to tap unconsciously on the table again.
Tap, tap, tap.
One blow after another, each one seemed to strike Zhou Jimin's heart, making him feel uneasy.
for a long time.
She put the list down, her face still showing the same calm and composed expression.
"I understand. Go back first, calm the team down, and the theoretical research cannot stop."
"Chairman Bai, about the equipment..."
"I'll think of a way," Bai Shu said calmly.
Zhou Jimin opened his mouth as if to say something, but nodded and turned to leave.
The office door closed gently, isolating it from the outside world.
The calm on Bai Zhu's face vanished instantly, replaced by an unyielding solemnity.
Su Wantang rubbed her throbbing temples. Having lived two lives, this was the first time she had felt a profound sense of powerlessness.
In her past life, she used all her strength and exhausted all her wealth to fight against the disease, but she still couldn't save her life.
In this life, she thought she possessed billions in capital and a prophetic script, making her invincible. However, she never imagined that she would remain so passive in the face of absolute technological barriers and the cold limitations of the era.
Do we really have to stop here?
No.
She was unwilling to accept it!
...
Returning to Lu Jingyan's courtyard with indescribable exhaustion, Su Wantang surprisingly lost all interest in going into the kitchen.
She threw herself heavily onto the sofa, curled up into a ball, completely at a loss.
Just then, Wang Ma came over with a steaming cup of chrysanthemum and malva nut tea.
"Miss, you look so tired these past few days. You have dark circles under your eyes and you've lost weight." Wang Ma looked at her with concern and placed a teacup beside her.
“I’ve sorted out all the old things you brought back from Shanghai.”
Those were her mother Bai Xiuzhu's belongings.
Having been so busy that she barely had time to breathe, Su Wantang hadn't had a chance to take a closer look.
"Hmm," she replied listlessly.
"Everything is arranged, except for one thing that I've never seen before and don't know where to put it for you."
As Wang Ma spoke, she carefully took out a palm-sized wooden box from the pocket of her faded apron.
It was a cigar box that looked quite old, made of fine rosewood with a warm patina, and it looked very valuable.
In the very center of the box is a peculiar badge, resembling an elongated, smoothly sculpted rhombus.
Su Wantang's gaze suddenly sharpened the moment she saw the badge.
She sat up straight, took the cigar box, and gently and repeatedly stroked the diamond-shaped emblem with her fingertips.
A strange sense of familiarity, as if it had transcended two lifetimes, welled up in my heart.
She opened the box.
There were no cigars inside, but a neatly stacked stack of business cards and a thin, dark brown leather-bound address book.
The business cards were written in a mix of German, French, and English, on high-quality paper, and featured elegant designs. The owners of these cards came from all walks of life, including bankers, watchmakers, lawyers, and even gallery owners, with addresses scattered throughout Europe.
Without exception, each business card has a diamond-shaped badge printed in gold foil at the bottom right corner, identical to the one on the cigar box.
Su Wantang's breathing suddenly became rapid!
As if struck by lightning, she swiftly raised her left wrist and rolled up her sleeve.
On the smooth inner side of the jade bracelet, a mark that would almost be overlooked is clearly visible.
That mark was a rhombus!
It's exactly the same as the badge on the cigar box and on all the business cards!
Mother……
The jade bracelet left by my mother is more than just the key to unlocking the Begonia Space!
What exactly does this diamond-shaped badge represent? And what unknown past does this vast network of connections across Europe hold about my mother?
With trembling hands, she picked up the thin address book and quickly flipped through it.
The address book doesn't contain many names. Each name is followed by a phone number and address in beautiful handwritten calligraphy.
When she turned to one of the pages, her finger suddenly stopped.
It was a business card printed in German, tucked inside my address book. The card only had a name and a number on it.
—Hans Schmidt.
Below his name, his profession is indicated in small print: Mechanic.
On the back of the business card, Su Wantang saw a line of Chinese notes written in extremely small, tiny characters by her mother, Bai Xiuzhu:
"Hans, reliable, can meet all military and non-military machinery needs."
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