69: Chapter 69 Incomplete Time

On the morning of the eighth day, Jiang Lin pasted a small piece of white tape on the edge of the pulley of the generator rig.

Yesterday he had already proved that it could generate electricity, but being able to generate electricity was still too crude.

How much voltage was output at what rotational speed, how much the voltage would drop after connecting to the rectifier bridge, how obvious the torque response was when the load increased, whether the dumping resistor could safely burn off the energy, and whether the controller would lie under low temperature, surges, or poor contact?

Without answering these questions, wind turbine no. 2 could not leave the rig.

The temporary tachometer was very crude.

A white LED was fixed on the bracket, obliquely illuminating the edge of the pulley.

The illuminance sensor was aimed at that piece of white tape; every revolution, the reflected light jumped out a peak value, and the development board then converted the peak interval into rotational speed.

This thing could not be used to publish papers, but it was enough.

Low-speed no-load test: at 120rpm, the AC root-mean-square value between the three-phase lines was about 13V, and at 300rpm it was about 32V.

Even if the DC side would rise a section after rectification, deducting the diode voltage drop, ripple, cable loss, and controller margin, it was still far from the comfortable zone for stably charging 16 strings of lithium iron phosphate batteries.

After connecting to the rectifier bridge, the diode voltage drop and ripple still had to be deducted, plus the controller loss.

The truly usable wind speed range of wind turbine no. 2 would not be as optimistic as written in the merchant's promotional pages.

Connect to the rectifier bridge, connect a small load, keep the rotational speed at 300rpm, the voltage dropped, the current rose, and the rectifier bridge heated up.

Change to a large load, the sound of the bench drill became heavier, and the belt slipped slightly.

The electromagnetic load of the generator had already made the driving end strained.

The rig was not a limit test stand, and the bench drill was not wind.

He did not continue to increase the load.

Before noon, thermal test of the dumping resistor.

The function of the dumping resistor was very simple.

After the battery was full, it turned excess electrical energy into heat, burning away the electricity that was hard-caught from the wind in the most brutal way.

Compared to waste, Jiang Lin believed this was the price of system safety.

Energy that could not be safely consumed would eventually return in the form of accidents.

The resistor was moved to the outside of the stone wall, padded with ceramic pieces, with no combustibles nearby.

Three temperature probes were attached to the center of the heat sink, the wiring terminals, and the ambient temperature in the air respectively.

Low power for thirty minutes, 69 °C.

Medium power for ten minutes, 91 °C.

If the power was a bit higher and the time a bit longer, it would obviously exceed one hundred.

Did the controller have an over-temperature input?

He flipped through the manual.

None.

The cheap small wind turbine controller only cared about voltage, battery type, and dumping output, having no idea what the external resistor was roasted into.

This was the boundary of a commercialized black box.

It could switch circuits, but it did not understand heat.

Thus, he did not completely hand over the dumping resistor to the controller.

The controller was only responsible for judging when to dump; the temperature of the resistor body was recorded by an independent temperature probe, buzzing and alarming when exceeding 120 degrees Celsius, and disconnected by a series thermal fuse when exceeding 150 degrees Celsius.

This protection system was not smart, but at least it did not pretend to be smart.

In the afternoon, short-circuit electromagnetic braking test.

Three-phase short-circuiting of the permanent magnet generator would produce strong electromagnetic damping; the faster it turned, the stronger the braking.

It sounded beautiful.

No brake pads, no mechanical contact, letting the motor drag itself.

But the current would generate heat; the windings, cables, and rectifier devices would all get hot. If the short circuit lasted for a long time, electromagnetic braking would turn into electromagnetic suicide.

He first did it at an extremely low speed of 120rpm.

At the instant of three-phase short-circuiting, the sound of the bench drill noticeably deepened, the belt shook, and the generator's rotational speed dropped a section.

Braking existed.

The current peak was very high, but lasted very briefly.

He did not perform a long-term short circuit at higher rotational speeds.

Next, he wrote the entire safety chain on paper:

Normal: Generation -> Rectification -> Controller -> Battery.

Full Charge: Controller -> Dumping Resistor.

Over-speed: Short-circuit electromagnetic braking intervenes for a short time, use with time limit.

Out of Control: Mechanical brake / Yaw wind shedding.

Manual Maintenance: Completely lock the rotor.

The last one was the hardest.

Manually locking the blades under strong wind would make the tower bear huge wind loads.

If not locked, the blades would continue to rotate, making maintenance dangerous.

The truly safe maintenance state should be wind shedding first, followed by mechanical locking.

That is to say, the yaw system itself must be reliable.

The pain points of the old wind turbine had circled back.

Yaw, friction, preload, thermal cycle, contact stiffness.

The old debts left behind by the fifth time did not disappear just because he bought a new wind turbine kit.

It just changed into a more modern shell and stood in front of the sixth time once again.

In the evening, static balance of the blades.

The maximum difference between the three blades was 29 grams.

Jiang Lin did not grind the blades immediately.

Grinding fiberglass blades carried very high risks; destroying the surface coating would accelerate wear from wind and sand.

He assembled the three blades into a complete impeller and mounted it on a low-friction support for static balance.

The counterweight was fixed in the reserved holes on the inner side of the hub, locked with screws and threadlocker.

This could not prove that the dynamic balance was qualified, but at least it could rule out the crudest center of gravity offset.

An hour later, the impeller could stop at different angles without some specific blade always drooping.

This was only static balance and did not mean dynamic balance was qualified.

But at least it ruled out the crudest weight unevenness.

At the end of the day, there were no longer pretty wind turbine drawings on the paper, only an increasingly complex risk table.

Jiang Lin suddenly felt that wind turbine no. 2 was more troublesome than the old wind turbine.

The old wind turbine was crude, but every bit of crudeness was in his hands.

The new wind turbine looked modern, but it hid many commercialized black boxes that he hadn't fully figured out yet.

The starting point was higher, and the blind spots were also more.

At night, he went to Observation Point A as usual to retrieve data.

The dust cover played a role, and the dust on the mirror cover was significantly reduced, but the vignetting problem appeared.

The edge of the windshield caused occlusion in several low-angle sky images.

The brightness of the northern low-altitude red belt was estimated to be affected.

He was not angry, just recording: Dust cover V1 reduces mirror dust, but occludes low elevation field of view.

Follow-up: Expand the opening angle or increase the camera installation height.

Returning to the Stone House, he opened "Plasma Physics", and read five pages this time.

The derivation of Debye shielding did not stump him.

The electric potential was exponentially attenuated in the plasma, and the characteristic length was jointly determined by temperature, density, and charge.

He derived it again on paper.

On the ninth day, Jiang Lin wrote today's real topic on the wall.

The true goal of wind turbine no. 2: not more electricity, but being able to stop generating electricity when it shouldn't, letting the wind step aside by itself.

Not making the wind stop—he didn't have that ability.

Nor forcibly locking the blades; hard-locking in strong wind would pour loads directly into the tower and blade roots.

What he needed was wind shedding.

The principle was not complex; what was difficult was reliability.

The tail rudder made the impeller face the wind directly, and the impeller catching the wind generated thrust. When the thrust exceeded the threshold, the entire nacelle deflected, changing from directly facing the incoming wind to obliquely facing the incoming wind, and the power dropped.

The key was not that the tail rudder could swing, but that the line of action of the impeller thrust must not pass through the yaw axis.

As long as there was an offset, the wind thrust would turn into a torque that deflected the nacelle sideways, and the tail rudder and springs were responsible for pulling it back.

Which side overwhelmed the other determined whether the wind turbine faced the wind, shed the wind, or oscillated.

Many small wind turbines had this kind of passive yaw protection.

The manual wrote: automatic yaw protection, automatic side deflection in strong winds.

But these four words falling into the Wasteland were a bunch of variables that must be disassembled.

How much was the yaw friction, how large was the tail rudder area, what was the thrust curve, how much was the spring return force, would it oscillate under gusts, would the threshold drift after sand entered the bearings, and would the grease stick under low temperatures causing it to fail to shed when it should?

He could not directly trust the original factory tail rudder wind-shedding part; he had to make a low-load verification stand himself.

Scaled yaw verification stand.

An aluminum alloy plate served as the base, and a ten-millimeter steel shaft passed through to act as the yaw axis.

An aluminum strip simulated the impeller eccentricity, a long rod simulated the tail rudder rod, and an adjustable-area plastic piece was hung at the end.

In the first stage, no wind was used; natural wind was too unstable.

Nylon ropes and springs simulated the impeller thrust, and fine ropes hung weights; the heavier the weights, the greater the wind represented.

Hang the first group of weights, no movement.

The second group, no movement.

The third group, the yaw arm suddenly deflected by seven degrees.

It was not a smooth start; it got stuck for a moment, and jumped across abruptly after overcoming static friction.

Not good.

On a real wind turbine, this kind of getting stuck—sudden jumping would cause tower impact and sudden changes in generated voltage.

Unloading the weights, the yaw arm stopped at three degrees, showing return hysteresis.

Old problems had returned.

Friction, contact surfaces, preload.

The steel shaft was taken out.

The aluminum alloy hole wall was too soft; once pressed by the steel shaft, there were already tiny bite marks locally.

Steel shafts could not rotate directly in aluminum holes; there had to be at least a bushing.

He rummaged a section of brass tube from the parts box.

The cold wind outside cooled the copper bushing, and the fireside slightly heated the aluminum plate.

Thermal expansion and contraction only gave him a tiny bit of margin.

It was gently knocked in with a wooden block underneath; an iron hammer could not be used, as it would deform the opening of the copper bushing.

The steel shaft was reinserted, the damping was uniform, and there was no local astringency.

Second round of testing.

The first group did not move, the second group deflected by one degree, the third group by three degrees, and the fourth group by eight degrees.

Continuous, no more sudden jumps.

The return residual was about one degree.

Still existed.

But under sand, low temperature, lubrication degradation, and load impact, the hysteresis of a real wind turbine would only become larger, not smaller.

Spring selection.

Soft springs made wind shedding easy, but small winds also caused the nacelle to yaw and sway, making power generation unstable.

Hard springs were stable facing the wind, but could not shed in strong winds.

Medium springs were closest to the goal, but after deflecting to a certain angle, the change in the spring's moment arm made the return force increase first and then decrease.

After the wind turbine deflected sideways, it might not necessarily be willing to return to the wind-facing direction.

He drew torque curves on paper.

Wind thrust torque, tail rudder return, spring, and friction dead zones stacked together, determining whether the wind turbine would stably face the wind, smoothly shed wind, oscillate back and forth, or get stuck at some awkward angle half-dead.

The yaw failure of the old wind turbine was not entirely a bad thing.

It gave him fifteen years of negative data.

Which sounds represented increased friction, which voltage sags came from wind-following hysteresis, and which temperature rises corresponded to axial friction pair failure.

These were all reverse textbooks for the yaw design of wind turbine no. 2.

In the evening, the crudest wind thrust test.

He put the scaled tail rudder outside the Stone House to let the natural wind blow it, reading the tail rudder force with a spring scale.

The readings jumped wildly and could not be quantified, but one phenomenon was very obvious: when gusts came, the force on the tail rudder did not increase smoothly, but slapped on in bursts.

What the yaw mechanism faced was not a quiet torque curve, but a series of pulses.

If the mechanism was too sensitive, it was beaten back and forth by gusts; if it was too sluggish, it missed the truly dangerous strong wind window.

At night, three pages of "Plasma Physics" were read.

Lorentz force, gyroradius, gyrofrequency.

Because of different masses, electrons and ions had different response scales.

Looking at the circular motion diagram, he suddenly felt that it had a somewhat absurd similarity to today's yaw model.

Charged particles were constrained by the magnetic field, revolving around invisible field lines.

The wind turbine was constrained by the wind and the tail rudder, finding a stable angle on the yaw axis.

The scales were absurdly different.

But they were both asking the same question: when the external force changes, how does the system respond?

On the eleventh day, he laid out that new wind turbine completely in front of the Stone House.

The old wind turbine was still turning, but the yaw friction sound was getting sharper and sharper, and the voltage curve was like an old man's pulse, sometimes stable and sometimes chaotic.

It had supported Jiang Lin through those most difficult years, but it was indeed failing.

wind turbine no. 2 had to be erected.

The tower would not copy the old wind turbine.

Channel steel made a triangular bracket, thick plates made the tower base, and stones provided weight.

The main anchors bearing lateral loads were three diagonal steel cables.

The ends of the steel cables were driven into rock crevices, ground anchors were made with steel wedges and old channel steel, and then tightened bit by bit with turnbuckles.

The tower was not high, but Jiang Lin still treated it as something that could kill.

The tower was not high and far from pretty, but it didn't have that forced vibe of the old wind turbine.

On the twelfth day, the wind stopped for half a day, a rare window.

There was no crane for hoisting, only pulleys, ropes, and his own body.

Every step was so slow that it was irritating.

Generator half a meter off the ground, stop, check the knots.

One meter, stop, check tower sway.

Two meters, stop, check whether the yaw axis was pulled sideways.

The old wind turbine was spinning beside it, its sound sickly, like a veteran watching a newcomer go into battle.

The generator was hung at the top of the tower, the yaw head seated into the copper bushing, the tail rudder installed, the mechanical brake cable passed through the guide ring, and the cable ran down from the inside of the tower, fixed at intervals to leave a torsional margin.

At three in the afternoon, the impeller was hoisted onto the tower.

The circle formed by the three blades slowly turned an angle in the air, and sunlight flashed from the edge of the blades.

At that moment, the Wasteland in front of the Stone House seemed to quiet down for a breath.

Jiang Lin was not moved by this picture for long.

He still had to stare at the blade roots.

Pretty blades meant nothing; if a single bolt at the blade root loosened, the entire system would tear itself apart at a certain rotational speed.

Put on bolts in diagonal order, recheck.

Screwing too much locked internal stress into the blade root; screwing too little hid future accidents in the wind.

Before dusk, wind turbine no. 2 stood up completely for the first time.

Jiang Lin stood under the tower, letting the wind turbine idle.

The wind was very small.

The blades moved slowly for a moment, stopped again, and moved again.

The tail rudder swung gently, the nacelle searched for the wind, and the yaw axis made a very low frictional sound.

No abnormal screeching, no obvious sticking.

The first revolution was very slow, the second was a bit faster, and by the third, the generator output had voltage.

Close the primary circuit breaker, and the rectifier bridge is connected.

Close the secondary circuit breaker, and the controller works.

The voltage was still not enough, so the battery did not take charge immediately.

It shouldn't be forcibly charged in low wind either.

When the wind picked up slightly, the charging indicator light flashed on and then went off; when it got a bit stronger, it lit up steadily.

The current was very small, but continuous.

The old wind turbine was still spinning beside it with faults, and the wind turbine no. 2 also began to spin.

One old and one new, the two sets of blades cut through the air at different frequencies in the wind before the Wasteland Stone House.

After nightfall, the wind grew stronger, and wind turbine no. 2 triggered slight wind shedding for the first time.

The tail rudder deflected slightly, the impeller stopped stubbornly taking the wind head-on, and the rotational speed dropped.

Jiang Lin stood under the tower, holding the brake cable in his hand, his eyes fixed on the red light of the dump load module.

The red light did not light up, the buzzer did not sound, and the controller did not alarm.

The wind turbine yielded a bit to the wind on its own.

At that moment, he finally let out a sigh of relief.

After wind turbine no. 2 stood up, the Outpost had a closed-loop power system capable of continuous energy replenishment for the first time.

It could hardly be called reliable, let alone surplus, but the power system was finally no longer just a lingering old wind turbine and old battery, but an engineering object that could be recorded, maintained, and gradually improved.

Jiang Lin could finally open the computing box.

The second-hand graphics workstation was as heavy as a black iron stele.

He checked it again and pressed the power button.

The monitor lit up with white text on a black background, and Linux entered the boot interface without any error reports.

Plug in the first data hard drive.

The sound of the hard drive spinning made him more nervous than the fan.

Inside it was one of the most important things of the Sixth, not the laboratory itself, but the seed bank of the laboratory.

On the screen, the file directories unfolded layer by layer, like the foundation map of a city not yet built.

He did the basic work first.

Migrate the Git repository Outpost_Phase_I from the backup small host to the main workstation.

Import the daily data of Observation Point A into the data partition of the new hard drive.

Scan and archive all paper forms from the first phase.

Unify the version numbers of the power system, processing system, observation system, and computing system.

By evening, the workstation's hard drive light flashed in a uniform and steady rhythm for the first time.

The second brain of the sixth Wasteland began to work.

After the workstation started up, Observation Point A also entered a new cycle.

After wind turbine no. 2 made the power more stable, the observation box no longer needed to rely entirely on the small battery to struggle through the whole night.

But Jiang Lin did not run a long cable directly over.

That would send the noise of the power system over, and all previous efforts to avoid the Stone House would be in vain.

He chose a compromise.

Charge the observation point battery during the day and run offline at night.

Change the card every three days and make a summary every seven days.

It was very troublesome, but clean.

He locked the camera to manual exposure, fixed the white balance, and before shooting every night, first took a set of dark frames with the lens capped.

The red band could be faint, intermittent, and obscured by sandstorms and cloud dust.

But it could not grow out via auto white balance, nor could it be imagined by himself out of sensor thermal noise.

On the first night, the pale red band in the northern low sky appeared again.

The camera captured it, but there was still occlusion at the edge of the lens, the anemometer data was complete, and the magnetometer was stable.

On the second night, the pale red band appeared again, in about the same position, with a slightly longer duration.

That night the wind speed was lower, there was less lens dust, and the image was cleaner than the first night.

On the third night, cloud dust obscured it severely, and the red band was unclear.

On the fourth night, wind turbine no. 2 triggered dump load twice consecutively in the second half of the night, and the red light on the outside of the dump load resistor lit up briefly.

Observation Point A recorded slight magnetic field disturbances at the same time.

If it were a few days ago, Jiang Lin might have felt his heart skip a beat.

But now, he checked the metadata first.

During that time, the wind speed increased, wind turbine no. 2 dump load was triggered, and the power system switched large currents.

Although Observation Point A was relatively far from the Stone House, the interference path could not be completely ruled out.

On the fifth night, the red band appeared again.

Low wind speed, clean lens, stable power supply, and normal bracket vibration markers.

The magnetometer had no obvious simultaneous disturbance.

He copied out this night's data separately and named it: PointA_Night05_clean_candidate

On the sixth night, the pale red band was so weak it was almost invisible.

On the seventh night, it appeared again.

Jiang Lin lined up the seven nights of images chronologically.

On the screen, that faint red bright area in the northern low sky appeared and disappeared.

It was disobedient, did not appear every day, and was not always equally bright.

Cloud dust, wind speed, lens dust, and bracket vibration could not always be ruled out.

But it was not completely random either.

At least in the cleaner data of several nights, it did exist.

The Wasteland sky was left with continuous traces by instruments for the first time.

For decades, this red band only lived in his eyes, his memory, and his doubts.

Now it lived in the hard drive, in the Git commit records, and in the seven low-illumination images with complete timestamps.

It went from "Maybe I'm seeing things" to "It's right there" for the first time.

The subsequent logic was very clear.

Establish the second Observation Point B to perform spatial consistency verification.

If Point A saw the red band, Point B also saw it, and the angle relationship was consistent, then it was more likely to be a real sky phenomenon.

If Point A saw it and Point B did not see it, then it might be local terrain, the lens, sandstorms, or even some pollution source he hadn't discovered.

A single point was never enough.

Single-point observation could not completely separate pseudo-signals from real phenomena.

But just as the schedule was arranged for Point B, the workstation gave him a resounding slap in the face.

On the evening of the twentieth day, Jiang Lin ran the workstation continuously for two hours for the first time.

Write a script to align the images, magnetometer, wind speed, temperature, voltage, and maintenance logs of Observation Point A by time.

This matter was very boring.

The timestamps did not match.

The camera records and magnetometer records differed by dozens of seconds.

The anemometer had several sections of missing values.

Manual maintenance records were on paper and had to be entered manually.

The script ran for the first time and directly reported an error.

The second time, image filename parsing failed.

The third time, the time intervals were off by an hour.

He checked for a long time and finally found the problem.

Real World computer system time, Wasteland electronic watch time, observation box startup time, workstation system clock.

Between these times, he had never established a unified benchmark.

Every clock was running at its own speed.

Every piece of data honestly time-stamped according to its own clock.

So when pieced together, they didn't match.

This was ridiculous.

Because if the times could not be aligned, the so-called synchronous observation of the red band by A and B was empty talk.

The so-called time relationship between the dump load of wind turbine no. 2 and the magnetometer disturbance was also empty talk.

The so-called duration statistics of the seven-night red band were also empty talk.

All the methods he intended to use to prove that this red band was a real phenomenon were built on the assumption that time could be aligned.

And this assumption was something he had never truly verified in the past twenty days.

The clean data of Observation Point A turned into a pile of talking-at-cross-purposes time series in front of the script.

He temporarily pushed Observation Point B back by one position and inserted a new task in front of it.

Establish the Wasteland local time benchmark.

This was even more basic than building Point B.

Without unified time, the two observation points were just two boxes talking at cross-purposes.

But establishing the time benchmark itself was extremely difficult on the Wasteland.

He had no atomic clock, no GPS, and no internet time service.

All he could use were the electronic clock brought from the Real World, the workstation system clock, the observation box's built-in crystal oscillator, astronomical phenomena, and his own paper records.

Every single one would drift, but at least he had to know how they drifted.

If the workstation clock drifted by 0.3 seconds a day, he needed to know.

If the observation box crystal oscillator drifted faster at minus thirty degrees than at zero degrees, he needed to know.

If the electronic clock directly stopped for a second in the low temperature of a sandstorm, he needed to know.

If he used stellar rise and set for calibration, he couldn't directly apply the 24 hours of the Real World Earth.

He must first measure the local sidereal day of the Wasteland, and then judge whether it could be used as a long-term time scale.

That was not looking up a table, but remeasuring time for this Wasteland.

He wrote the new task into the phase one table.

Time Benchmark: Tier-1 task.

That night, he read "Plasma Physics" up to the cyclotron motion of a single particle in a magnetic field.

Electrons, because of their small mass, responded quickly.

Ions, because of their large mass, responded slowly.

In the same magnetic field, different particles had different scales.

Reading and reading, he looked at the observation schedule beside him.

The camera once every five minutes, the magnetometer once every minute, the anemometer summarized every ten seconds, and manual inspection twice a day.

The sound of the old wind turbine was recorded by ear.

Different equipment also had different scales.

If these scales were forcibly put together without a time benchmark, sampling instructions, or delay markers, it would be like mixing the motion of electrons and ions into a lump and then pretending to understand plasma.

This was a deeper hole than the red band.

The red band was the phenomenon he was chasing.

The time benchmark was the ground beneath his feet when he chased this phenomenon.

If the ground was soft, chasing anything was futile.

At nine o'clock at night, he committed on Git.

Wind Turbine II erected. Workstation online. Point A: 7-night red-band sequence preserved. Time-base inconsistency discovered. Time-sync task elevated to Tier-1.

After committing, he sat in front of the stone table, listening to the two sets of wind turbines outside the Stone House.

The sound of the old wind turbine was rough, with high-frequency friction.

The sound of wind turbine no. 2 was lighter, and the frequency of the blades cutting the wind was cleaner.

The two sets of blades cut through the air at different frequencies, like two incompletely synchronized hearts.

The light on the wall of the Stone House was more stable than the previous few days.

The workstation's hard drive light flashed in an even rhythm.

Observation Point A continued recording fifty meters away.

The sixth Wasteland was operating as a complete system for the first time.

Electricity, processing, observation, and computing—all four legs stood firm.

It was also because all four legs stood firm that he could clearly see for the first time that the ground beneath this system's feet was uneven.

The time was out of sync.

Out-of-sync time would make all the data lie to each other, yet for the past twenty days he had thought he was collecting the truth.

At the end of the twentieth day, Jiang Lin was not depressed.

He knew that what he had just run into was not failure, but the Outpost's first self-exposure as a system.

If the workstation hadn't started and the script hadn't run for the first time, he might never have discovered the time out-of-sync.

He would carry this hole and continue forward, building the second observation point, building the third observation point, and then one day using a bunch of misaligned timestamps to prove that the red band was related to a completely unrelated event.

Fortunately, he ran into it on the twentieth day.

Instead of twenty years.

A short buzz came from outside.

The red light of the dump load module lit up for a moment and then went out.

The value on the independent temperature logger did not cross the alarm line.

The system recovered, taking less than ten seconds for the whole process.

No accidents, no fire, no tower screeching.

Jiang Lin stood up, walked to the door, looked at the red light that had gone out, and smiled with relief.

wind turbine no. 2 did not conquer the wind of the Wasteland, the workstation did not uncover the secrets of the Wasteland, and Observation Point A did not explain that red band.

But together, they stood firm.

The next morning, the Outpost energy records showed that the net electricity gained at night was not much, far from the pretty number of one kilowatt on the promotional page.

But it was continuous, stable, and didn't burn anything.

On Jiang Lin's notebook, the phase one task table had changed its appearance.

Tier-1: Time benchmark establishment.

Tier-2: Observation Point B site selection and construction.

Tier-3: Long-term inspection of wind turbine no. 2.

Tier-4: Continuous observation of the red band continues.

Time was ranked at the very front.

Because he finally understood that the red band was a phenomenon in the sky, and time was the ground beneath his own feet.

If the ground was not leveled, he couldn't catch anything in the sky.