Chapter 75 Mobilizing National-Level Power: The Mysterious Mountain Behind the Star Sea

Chen Guoan gripped the plastic handle of the red landline phone tightly.

Veins bulged on his wrist, and his fingernails dug in until they turned white.

His index finger jabbed into the dial, the force shaking the base against the desk.

"Beep—"

It connected on the first ring.

"This is Chen Guoan!"

The old man roared, his vocal cords grating with a hoarse, tearing sound.

Saliva sprayed onto the black casing, leaving tiny droplets.

"Don't talk to me about what time it is! Wake up the Chief! Even if the sky falls, wake him up!"

He panted heavily, a wheezing sound coming from his chest.

His reading glasses slid down his nose and "clattered" onto the stainless steel desk.

The right lens cracked, but he didn't even glance at it.

The fat old man beside him rubbed his hands together, swallowing dryly, his Adam's apple bobbing.

A deep voice replaced the other end of the line.

Chen Guoan stood up straight abruptly, his military coat sleeve sweeping several empty Red Bull cans off the table.

The cans rolled away on the floor.

"Chief... yes, it's me, Old Chen."

His voice suddenly trembled, like a child complaining to an elder after being wronged.

Tears streamed down the wrinkles by his eyes, splashing onto his collar.

"We have it... we have the blueprints! We found a way around the extreme ultraviolet lithography!"

Chen Guoan's hand holding the receiver was shaking.

"It's in Donghai City! Xinghai Technology! It was developed by a private mobile phone factory!"

He sniffled, his voice rising sharply.

"We need people! We need machine tools! We need special glass!"

"Chief, if we can't build this from the blueprints, I, Chen Guoan, won't have the face to face my ancestors when I die!"

Lu Jingming leaned against the doorframe, the unlit cigarette in his mouth chewed out of shape.

Tobacco shreds stuck to his lips, leaving a bitter, spicy taste.

He watched the old man cry and howl into the phone with cold eyes.

His thumb slowly rubbed the plastic lighter casing in his pocket.

His fingerprint scraped against the rough sticker, making a faint rustling sound.

The call ended.

Chen Guoan collapsed back into the folding chair, the chair legs scraping against the tile with a harsh screech.

"The Chief said... three hours."

The old man bared his withered lips, revealing a few yellow teeth.

"The state machine is clearing the path for us."

Three hours later.

The toll booth gate of the Donghai City Ring Expressway was held firmly in mid-air.

Dozens of traffic police in reflective vests waved red and white batons, herding all civilian vehicles onto the side roads.

Car horns blared one after another, making one's head ache.

Dazhuang squatted next to the stone lion at the main gate of Xinghai.

He held half a pork and scallion bun in his hand, his mouth oily.

Just as he was about to swallow, the ground suddenly began to tremble rhythmically.

"Vroom—"

The dull roar of diesel engines rolled in along the asphalt road.

Dazhuang's chewing froze.

He widened his ox-like eyes, watching the line of vehicles turning the corner.

A fleet of military green heavy trucks, the cargo beds covered with thick camouflage canvas.

The tires crushed over small puddles on the road, splashing mud halfway up a person's height.

The thick smell of diesel exhaust hit his face with the hot wind, making his throat itch.

"Oh, damn..."

Dazhuang's hand trembled, and the remaining half of the meat bun "plapped" into a muddy puddle.

He didn't even care about the loss, shrinking back half a step, stuttering.

"What, what kind of formation is this? Is a war starting?"

Chu Xuan had been blowing the electric fan in the guard room.

Hearing the commotion, he ran out, his slippers flapping against the soles of his feet.

He looked up at the endless camouflage convoy and was so scared he let out a loud, drunken hiccup.

"Hic... Lu, just how much trouble did Young Master Lu get us into?"

Chu Xuan's legs were shaking, his floral shirt sticking to his sweaty back, clammy.

"Even the troops have been deployed! Are we going to be sentenced to death?"

The convoy stopped in order in the open space outside the factory gate.

The "hissing" sound of brakes and exhaust filled the air.

The tailgates of the trucks were kicked open roughly.

A group of people wearing blue cloth work clothes and grey jackets jumped off the trucks like dumplings.

The leader was a balding, thin old man.

He carried a washed-out canvas travel bag in his hand, the zipper half broken.

His leather shoes crunched on the gravel.

Chen Guoan ran to meet them at the gate, one of his cotton slippers flying off.

He simply stepped onto the scorching cement ground with one bare foot.

"Old Li! You old rascal!"

Chen Guoan rushed up, hugged the thin old man, and slammed his fist heavily onto the other's back.

"You must have emptied out the Changchun Institute of Optics and Fine Mechanics!"

The man called Old Li was hammered until he coughed.

"Cough, cough... Old Chen, take it easy, my bones are falling apart!"

He pushed Chen Guoan away and pointed to the technicians behind him carrying precision instruments.

"Stop the nonsense, Beijing gave the order, the foundations of Harbin Precision Engineering and CETC have all been brought over!"

Hundreds of people swarmed into the factory area.

They held metal boxes wrapped in anti-static film, and some even carried military bedding.

Shen Qingqiu stood on the steps in her high heels.

Looking at this group of shabbily dressed but fanatical national team backbone members, she gasped, her heart beating like a drum.

She was about to take a step forward to welcome them.

"Click."

A soft sound.

The thin heel of her right high heel shoe was firmly stuck in the crack of the steps.

She pulled hard twice, but it wouldn't move.

Her ankle twisted in pain, and a layer of fine sweat broke out on her forehead.

Seeing the people getting closer and closer, Shen Qingqiu bit her red lips and simply bent down to unbuckle the strap.

She took off both high heels and stepped barefoot onto the scorching stone slabs.

"These old guys, they even brought their own confidentiality agreements."

She looked down at the stacks of white paper waving in their hands, her voice filled with disbelief.

Several officers in military uniforms set up folding tables in the open space.

The rustling sound of turning pages continued non-stop.

Every engineer who entered pressed a blood-red fingerprint on the red-headed document marked "Top Secret."

No one hesitated, not even stuttering.

Lu Jingming leaned against the railing of the second-floor corridor, looking down at the scene below.

He squeezed the one-dollar lighter in his hand until it creaked.

The plastic shell cracked a small slit, scraping the flesh of his palm.

"Old Zhou."

Lu Jingming turned his head and looked at the dumbfounded former chief engineer of the big factory beside him.

"See that? This is the foundation of our China."

He pulled the corners of his mouth, revealing half a canine tooth.

"The foreign devils thought that if they pinched the chips, we would have to kneel. They don't count for anything."

Old Zhou let out a sob of undefined meaning in his throat.

Tears and snot streamed down, and he wiped his face indiscriminately with his sleeves, leaving grey streaks all over his face.

By eight o'clock in the evening.

On the open-air playground of Xinghai.

Four floodlights were all turned on, blindingly bright.

Phototactic little insects slammed into the hot lampshades, making "crackling" scorching sounds.

The air was filled with the smell of sweat, machine oil, and the fishy scent of mud.

Thousands of people stood straight, a vast sea of them.

The night wind blew, no one whispered, only heavy breathing could be heard.

Lu Jingming didn't take the steps; he supported the edge of the wooden podium with one hand and jumped up with a flip.

His shoe soles slammed onto the wooden board, shaking up a cloud of floating dust.

He grabbed the microphone on the pillar.

"Buzz—"

A piercing screech scraped across everyone's eardrums, and the people in the front row subconsciously frowned.

Lu Jingming didn't waste words, directly holding up three fingers of his right hand.

His fingertips faced the cold light of the floodlights.

"Three months."

His voice was lazy, yet carried a ruthless force that could smash through steel plates.

"Eating, drinking, and sleeping, everything will be solved within this thousand-acre plot."

Lu Jingming retracted two fingers, leaving only his index finger pointing towards the gate.

"Not even a fly will be allowed to fly out, and the capitalists outside won't even be able to smell a fart."

He lowered his head, his gaze sweeping across those thousands of pairs of bloodshot eyes.

"Three months from now, I want this machine to spit out the first chip made by China itself."

Lu Jingming brought the microphone close to his mouth, his breathing amplified several times through the speakers.

"Dazhuang."

Niu Dazhuang roared from under the stage.

"Here, Young Master!"

He carried a welding torch, the cable dragging all over the ground.

"Go."

Lu Jingming threw the microphone, and it hit the wooden board with a muffled thud.

A crazy fire ignited in his eyes, and he lifted his chin towards the gate.

"Take two bundles of welding rods and seal the big iron gate shut for me. If it's not welded tight, I'll sacrifice you to the heavens."