Chapter 20 The Wonderful Uses of Systems

At two in the morning, the lights in the laboratory of the Materials Science Division were still on.

Lin Mo stared at the dense data curves on the screen, his eyes already feeling a bit dry. The Pilot-scale production process had been stuck at a bottleneck for five whole days—the performance of the materials prepared in the laboratory was perfect, but once scaled up to the pilot production line, the purity would drop and simply wouldn't go back up.

The team had tried seventeen combinations of parameters, and every single one had ended in failure.

"Teacher Lin, go back and rest," Li Xiao's voice came from behind him, sounding sleepy. "It's already two o'clock; we have to continue tomorrow."

Lin Mo turned around and saw her slumped over the adjacent table, her eyelids drooping. Academician Zhou Ming Far had long since been unable to hold out and went back, and Su Qing had also been chased away by Lin Mo an hour ago. Only this girl, Li Xiao, stubbornly refused to leave, saying she wanted to stand together with the chief.

"You go back first," Lin Mo said. "I'll take another look at this batch of data."

Li Xiao shook her head, forcing herself to sit up. "I'm not sleepy. I'll stay with you."

Just as the words left her mouth, she let out a yawn.

Lin Mo smiled. "And you call that not sleepy?"

Li Xiao rubbed her eyes and stubbornly argued, "That's a physiological reaction; it doesn't represent my mental state. Mentally, I am very awake."

Lin Mo shook his head and turned back to continue looking at the data.

Leaning on the table, Li Xiao suddenly asked in a low voice, "Teacher Lin, do you think we can succeed?"

Lin Mo's finger paused on the mouse.

"The hurdle of Pilot-scale production has stuck many projects," Li Xiao continued, her voice tinged with sleepiness and a hint of uncertainty. "I heard from seniors before that some materials are incredibly perfect in the laboratory, but they become useless once they reach the pilot stage, and no amount of adjustment works. Eventually, the project just falls through."

Lin Mo was silent for a few seconds, then said, "We can succeed."

Li Xiao looked up. "How do you know?"

Lin Mo looked at the data on the screen and didn't speak.

He couldn't explain it. But he did know—because in the depths of his consciousness where no one else knew, a voice had been telling him: the direction is right, it's just that the parameters haven't been found yet.

"Intuition," he said.

Li Xiao blinked and then smiled. "Alright then, Teacher Lin's intuition is definitely accurate. Then I'll wait with you until that intuition becomes reality."

As she spoke, she slumped back onto the table, and before long, the sound of steady breathing could be heard.

Lin Mo looked at her sleeping profile, sighed softly, stood up to take a spare coat from the nearby cabinet, and draped it over her.

Returning to his seat, he stared at the data once more.

Then, that voice appeared.

"Pilot process parameters deviate from the optimal range. Suggested adjustment: modify the temperature curve, extend the second-stage heat preservation time by 30%, and reduce the cooling rate to 2.5 degrees per minute."

Lin Mo's heart skipped a beat.

It was the system. Since arriving at the base, it had been very quiet—so quiet that Lin Mo had almost forgotten its existence. Now, it had finally spoken.

"Why are you only saying this now?" Lin Mo asked in his mind.

"The host did not actively inquire. The system defaults to providing active prompts at critical nodes."

Lin Mo took a deep breath to steady his emotions. "What is the basis for these parameters?"

"Comprehensive calculation based on current equipment conditions, raw material batch characteristics, and environmental parameters. Accuracy rate: 87.6%."

87.6%. Not low, but not one hundred percent either.

Lin Mo stared at the screen, his fingers lightly tapping on the tabletop.

He needed more information. He needed to know the principles behind these parameters, why the previous combinations failed, and—"

"The host can exchange research points for a detailed process analysis report," the system's voice rang out again.

Lin Mo was stunned.

research points?

"System Explanation: research points can be obtained through scientific research activities and used to exchange for technical data, process details, theoretical analysis, etc. Current research points balance: 0."

"How do I get research points?"

"Completing research tasks, publishing research results, overcoming technical difficulties, and gaining peer recognition can all earn research points. Different levels of results correspond to different point values."

Lin Mo's mind raced.

Publishing research results...

He thought of the papers he had published during his PhD; although he was only the second author, they were legitimate SCI papers. Did those count?

"Previously published results are not included. New results generated from current research activities are required."

Lin Mo frowned. He was currently soaking in the Pilot-scale production line every day; what new results were there to publish?

Unless...

He looked at the failed parameter combinations on the screen. Seventeen failures, seventeen sets of data. If he summarized the experience from these failures and wrote a paper discussing the optimization path for Pilot-scale production processes, would that count as a result?

"Lessons from failure are also research results," the system replied. "As long as they have reference value for peers, research points can be obtained."

Lin Mo's heart rate accelerated again.

He looked at Li Xiao, who was fast asleep on the table, then at the pitch-black night outside the window, and made a decision.

For the next three days, Lin Mo locked himself in his office.

He organized all the pilot data from the past half month—successful, failed, and semi-successful—categorizing them all by parameter combinations, environmental conditions, raw material batches, and result deviations. Then, he began to write the paper.

The title of the paper was very simple: 'Preliminary Exploration of the Pilot-scale production Process for Room-Temperature Superconductivity Materials: Lessons and Reflections Based on Seventeen Experiments'.

There were no flowery words or earth-shattering conclusions, only honest data analysis and summaries of the reasons for failure. Which parameter combinations would lead to a drop in purity, which stages were most prone to problems, and which seemingly irrelevant factors were actually vital—everything was written clearly.

On the evening of the fourth day, the paper was finished.

Lin Mo sent it to Academician Chen Qingshan, asking the elder to help review it. Academician Chen replied the next day with only one sentence:

"Substantial and useful. Suggest submitting to 'Materials Science and Engineering'."

That was a core journal in the domestic materials science community; its impact factor wasn't high, but its reputation within the industry was excellent.

Lin Mo hesitated for a moment before pressing the submit button.

Three days later, he received an acceptance notice.

It wasn't formal publication, but rather "Initial review passed, proceeding to external review." However, on the system's side, the notification sound had already rung.

"Host has published one academic paper, contribution value being assessed..."

Lin Mo held his breath.

"Assessment complete: The paper 'Preliminary Exploration of the Pilot-scale production Process for Room-Temperature Superconductivity Materials' has high reference value for peers. System rating: 'Common Result'. research points +50."

"Current research points balance: 50."

"Exchange for detailed pilot process analysis report? Cost: 40 research points."

Lin Mo hardly hesitated. "Exchange."

In an instant, a massive amount of information flooded into his mind.

It wasn't a rigid list of data, but a complete set of analysis—why previous parameters failed, why the temperature curve needed to be adjusted that way, why the cooling rate had to be controlled in that range, and it even included the impact of tiny differences in the equipment itself on the results, all analyzed clearly.

Lin Mo closed his eyes, feeling that information flowing through his mind.

Five minutes later, he opened his eyes and picked up the phone to call Zhang Zhe.

"Dr. Zhang, tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, let's do another experiment. I'll send you the parameters."

There was silence for two seconds on the other end of the line, then Zhang Zhe asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

At ten o'clock the next morning, a new batch of material was produced.

When the test results came out, the entire laboratory went silent.

Purity 99.7%.

It was 0.2 percentage points higher than the best previous laboratory data. The key was that this was produced on the pilot line, not a small sample in a laboratory beaker.

Zhang Zhe stared at the test report for a long time without speaking.

Li Xiao was the first to jump up. "We did it! Teacher Lin, we did it!"

She hugged Su Qing nearby, and the two of them jumped and shouted. Academician Zhou Ming Far stood to the side, smiling so widely his mouth wouldn't close, not even noticing that his glasses were crooked.

Zhang Zhe finally looked up and turned toward Lin Mo.

His gaze had changed. It was no longer the scrutiny and doubt from before, but something indefinable—shock, admiration, and a tiny bit of reluctance.

"How did you do it?" he asked.

Lin Mo thought for a moment and said, "I summarized the failed experiences and found a pattern."

Zhang Zhe was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed.

That was the first time Lin Mo had seen him laugh since meeting him.

"Fine," Zhang Zhe said. "From now on, whatever you say to do, I'll do."

Outside the door, Zhao Gang had stood there once again at some point.

He watched the cheering people in the laboratory, his gaze finally landing on Lin Mo. The young doctor didn't join the cheering crowd; he just stood by the testing equipment with a faint smile on his lips and a calm satisfaction in his eyes.

Zhao Gang suddenly remembered the scene when he completed his first mission as a young man.

It was the same feeling. Not wild joy, but a solid, grounded calm, knowing that his work hadn't been in vain.

He turned around and said to the young security guard beside him, "Go to the cafeteria and tell them to give the Materials Science Division a special meal tonight. Tell them it's to... celebrate."

The young guard was stunned for a moment. "Celebrate what?"

Zhao Gang looked at Lin Mo in the laboratory and said calmly, "Celebrate that they've passed another hurdle."

In the afternoon, Lin Mo returned to his office and sat alone in front of the computer.

The system notification sound rang again: "Remaining research points: 10. Next stage key process details require 120 research points. Suggested: host should continue to produce research results."

Lin Mo leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He understood now.

This system wasn't meant to give answers directly. It was a trading platform—using one's own research results to exchange for deeper guidance. Publishing papers earns points, overcoming difficulties earns points, gaining recognition earns points. The more you earn, the more you can exchange.

This was a path of positive cycles.

He opened his eyes and looked at the mountains outside the window, a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his mouth.

Come on then, let's see who runs faster.