Chapter 142 Finding a Manufacturer

Three days after the proposal was submitted, Lin Mo and Fang Lin boarded a plane to the southwest.

The clouds outside the window were like a white ocean, and the sunlight was dazzling.

Lin Mo leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes, but his mind wouldn't stop racing for even a second.

Over the past three days, they had traveled to four cities and visited seven enterprises.

The first one made precision instruments; their technology was good, but they had never done tungsten material processing.

The factory director was indeed enthusiastic and patted his chest, saying, "We can give it a try." Lin Mo looked at their equipment, shook his head, and left.

The second one had a military industry background and advanced equipment, but their production capacity was completely taken up by military orders, so there was no room to fit in.

Even if they could squeeze out one machine tool, it would take half a year to wait.

The third, the fourth... either the technology wasn't up to par, or the timeline didn't work.

Beside him, Fang Lin was flipping through her tablet, her brows tightly furrowed: "There are two left. One is in the southwest, making aerospace engines; the other is in the northeast, making nuclear industry equipment. If neither of these two works out..."

She didn't continue.

Lin Mo opened his eyes and looked at her: "Then we will have no choice but to pursue international cooperation."

Fang Lin was silent for a few seconds, then sighed softly.

International cooperation wasn't impossible, but the political risks were too high, and the approval process was too long. By the time it was approved, the opportunity would have long since passed.

The plane passed through the clouds and began to descend. Outside the window, rolling mountains appeared, dotted with scattered towns.

They had arrived in the southwest.

At three in the afternoon, a business van pulled up to the entrance of a factory.

The factory name was very ordinary: Southwest Aerospace Precision Machinery Factory.

The sign at the entrance was somewhat faded, looking like the style of the 1980s.

But the security was very strict; armed guards checked their identification three times before letting them in.

Lin Mo and Fang Lin waited in the reception room for less than five minutes before the door was pushed open.

A man in his fifties strode in, with a square face, thick eyebrows, dark skin, and wearing a set of washed-out blue work clothes.

He held a roll of blueprints in his hand, which were exactly the Divertor design drawings that Lin Mo and the others had sent in advance.

"Professor Lin, Director Fang, sorry to have kept you waiting." He extended his hand and shook theirs firmly. "My name is Liu, Liu Jianguo, the factory director."

Lin Mo sized the man up. His palms were rough and full of calluses—hands that had dealt with metal for years. His eyes were very bright, carrying a kind of composure that came from having seen the world.

"Factory Director Liu, have you looked at the blueprints?" Fang Lin asked straight to the point.

Liu Jianguo nodded and spread the blueprints out on the table: "I have, I've looked at them three times."

He pointed to the dense dimension annotations on the blueprints: "±0.02 millimeters, tungsten-copper alloy, internal cooling channel diameter of 0.8 millimeters, depth-to-diameter ratio exceeding 20... Professor Lin, this thing is not easy to make."

Lin Mo's heart sank.

Not easy to make again?

But Liu Jianguo added immediately: "It's not easy to make, but it can be done."

Lin Mo and Fang Lin exchanged a glance.

"Factory Director Liu, are you sure?" Fang Lin asked.

Liu Jianguo didn't answer directly, but instead walked to the wall and pulled back a curtain.

Behind the curtain was a display board with photos of various products—rocket engine nozzles, satellite attitude control thrusters, missile control surfaces...

"Our factory has been making aerospace engines since the sixties." Liu Jianguo's voice carried pride. "The temperature of the nozzles is over three thousand degrees; the precision of the thrusters is even higher than your requirements. We have been processing tungsten materials for forty years."

He pointed to one of the photos: "This nozzle is also tungsten-copper alloy, with an internal cooling channel diameter of 0.6 millimeters and a depth-to-diameter ratio of 25. It was made three years ago, and it's still flying in the sky today."

Lin Mo stood up and leaned in to look. The craftsmanship of the components in those photos was so precise that even he, a theorist, was secretly amazed.

"Factory Director Liu," he asked, "have you ever made anything similar to the structure of a Divertor?"

Liu Jianguo shook his head: "We haven't made one exactly the same. But the principles are the same. They are all precision cooling channels, all high-temperature alloys, and all require high-precision machining. The difference is that your structure is more complex, has more channels, and has higher requirements for deformation control."

He paused and looked at Lin Mo: "Professor Lin, I'm not bragging. Give me three months, and I guarantee I will produce a qualified product."

Lin Mo was silent for a few seconds: "Three months?"

"Three months." Liu Jianguo nodded. "The first week, process design; the second week, tooling preparation; the third to tenth week, machining and testing; the last two weeks, assembly and final testing. Not a day more."

Fang Lin interjected: "Factory Director Liu, do you know the importance of this project?"

Liu Jianguo smiled: "Director Fang, I've seen the news. The tokamak-3, the Artificial Sun. The whole country is watching."

He pointed to the photos on the wall, his tone becoming solemn: "We have been building rockets for decades and have sent dozens of satellites into the sky. But to be honest, those things were all just following in others' footsteps. Nuclear Fusion is different. This time, we are the ones leading."

He looked at Lin Mo: "It is our factory's honor to be able to contribute to this project. Even if we don't sleep for three months, we must get it done."

A warm feeling surged in Lin Mo's heart.

He stood up and extended his hand: "Factory Director Liu, thank you."

Liu Jianguo grasped his hand and shook it vigorously: "Professor Lin, I read your paper. It was well written. Those of us in technology should let the data do the talking."

Next, Liu Jianguo took them to tour the workshop.

In the huge factory building, various CNC machine tools were neatly arranged, and workers wearing blue work clothes moved between the machines. The air was filled with the smell of metal cutting—pungent, but reassuring.

Liu Jianguo pointed to a five-axis linkage machining center: "This piece of equipment was just imported from Germany, with an accuracy of 0.001 millimeters. It's used specifically for processing nozzles."

He then pointed to an electron microscope: "Material testing equipment, also imported. Every batch of raw materials must pass through it; if the composition is off by even a fraction, it won't pass."

Walking to a glass partition, he stopped: "This is the coordinate measuring room. All finished parts must be tested here, and if the error exceeds 0.003 millimeters, they must be reworked."

Lin Mo looked at those precision instruments, and his confidence gradually grew.

"Factory Director Liu," he asked, "regarding confidentiality..."

"Rest assured." Liu Jianguo interrupted him. "In aerospace, confidentiality is engraved in our bones. Everyone participating in this project must sign a confidentiality agreement and undergo a three-generation background check. Blueprints are stored separately, waste materials are recycled separately, and there are security checks when entering and leaving the workshop."

Fang Lin nodded: "What about the progress? Can you guarantee three months?"

Liu Jianguo thought for a moment: "If we can get priority supply of raw materials, yes. The current problem is that there are only two domestic producers of tungsten-copper alloy plates, and the delivery cycle is at least one month."

Fang Lin noted down in her notebook: "I will coordinate the raw materials. One month is too long; I will strive to compress it to two weeks."

Liu Jianguo smiled: "With those words from Director Fang, I feel even more confident."

In the evening, Lin Mo and Fang Lin left the factory.

The setting sun dyed the mountains golden red, and the silhouette of the factory building appeared exceptionally solemn against the backlight.

At the entrance, Liu Jianguo walked them all the way to the car, holding Lin Mo's hand for a long time.

"Professor Lin," he said, "three months from now, I will personally deliver the product to the Gobi Desert. At that time, you must treat me to a drink."

Lin Mo nodded firmly: "Definitely."

The car drove out of the factory and wound its way down the mountain road.

Fang Lin leaned back in her seat and let out a long sigh: "Finally, we found a reliable one."

Lin Mo looked at the factory building gradually receding outside the window, silent for a long time.

"Director Fang," he suddenly spoke, "three months... will it be in time?"

Fang Lin thought for a moment: "If the raw materials can be expedited, the equipment installation schedule can be fine-tuned. We can install the other components first, and have the Divertor arrive last. In terms of time, it should be in time."

Lin Mo nodded and said nothing more.

He knew this was just the first step.

The real test was still to come.

Three months later, would that factory director be able to fulfill his promise? Would the processed Divertor pass the tests? Would there be problems with installation and commissioning?

Each step was a cause for anxiety.

But at least, there was a path forward.

As long as there is a path, we can keep moving forward.