: The First Aircraft Carrier Launched

In early July, Liu Ying returned from the Great Northwest.

When she entered, Zhao Ping'an was looking at documents. He hadn't seen her for a month, and Liu Ying had lost a little weight, but her eyes were still very bright.

"Sir, we've made another breakthrough with the chips."

Zhao Ping'an put down his pen and looked at her.

Liu Ying took a report out of her bag and placed it on the table.

"The data for July shows that production capacity has increased, and we can produce 100,000 wafers this month. The process precision has stabilized at 10 micrometers."

Zhao Pingan picked up the report and turned the pages one by one.

Liu Ying said from the side, "Huang Kun and his team worked hard for half a year and finally got this production line running smoothly. Now one line can produce more than 3,000 wafers a day, with a yield rate of 65%. After some adjustments next month, it can reach 70%."

Zhao Ping'an nodded without saying anything.

Liu Ying added, "Medium-scale integrated circuits are almost there too. With thousands of transistors integrated, they can perform more complex signal processing. Lin Lanying said that we can try large-scale next year."

Zhao Ping'an raised his head and looked at her.

Liu Ying smiled slightly: "A year ago, we were still worried about operating on a small scale. Now..."

She didn't finish her sentence, but the meaning was clear.

Zhao Pingan put down the report.

Suddenly, he asked, "I remember you came to me before to ask Zheng Yaoxian to help investigate the US chip industry? Did I give you the report? How is their development going? Ten micrometers, what level does that represent?"

Liu Ying replied, "The report has already been given to me. In the United States, Intel was just established last year and hasn't released any products yet."

Zheng Yaoxian collected many papers, and Comrades Huang and Lin deduced from their published papers that...

It should be between ten and twenty micrometers now. Ours is ten micrometers…”

She paused.

"At least 3 to 5 years ahead of them"

"Okay, please tell Comrade Huang and the others that they've worked hard."

Liu Ying nodded.

Zhao Pingan pressed further, "How many chips can you supply right now?"

Liu Ying said, "100,000 pieces a month. That's enough for the radar, missiles, and BeiDou systems. We can store the rest."

Zhao Pingan looked out the window.

After searching for the corresponding information on the system and confirming it repeatedly, I can confirm that this is indeed the case.

The other party may have hidden aspects, but they want to mass-produce it.

It will take at least three years to reach the same level of production capacity as the Republic.

Just as Liu Ying left, Zhao Ping'an's phone rang.

Zhao Pingan answered the phone, and it was Old Qian's voice on the other end, with an irrepressible smile.

"Old Zhao, Dongfeng-3, it's a success."

Zhao Pingan held the phone, waiting for the next word.

Professor Qian said, "The test was conducted this morning in a target area deep in the Gobi Desert, 2,800 kilometers away. When the warhead landed, the data was transmitted back, and the error was less than one kilometer."

Zhao Pingan asked, "Is it stable?"

Qian replied, "Sure. We conducted the simulation three times before the battle, and the data all matched."

After finishing the game, I reviewed it again, and everything was fine.

"That's great!" Zhao Ping'an couldn't help but show a hint of excitement on his face. 2800 kilometers, which can cover the second island chain. Now the Japanese are already within the Republic's firing range.

Qian continued, outlining the plan: "Next step, Dongfeng-4. Target range of over 4,000 kilometers."

Zhao Ping'an immediately chimed in, "Give us people, give us money, give us whatever we want."

Old Qian laughed and said, "No need, just keep it that way. I haven't even finished processing the batch of people you gave me last time."

After hanging up the phone, Zhao Pingan stood there, holding the receiver, not putting it down.

Two thousand eight hundred kilometers.

On the other hand, the chief designer of the Minuteman missile is no longer alive. Now, in the field of missiles, China has at least caught up with the international advanced level.

At the end of July, Ye Juan sent a telegram from Xinjiang.

It was very long, not the usual brief report.

Zhao Ping'an opened it and read it line by line.

First section: The Xinjiang ultra-high voltage power transmission line is now fully operational.

From Urumqi to Lanzhou, then to Xi'an, Zhengzhou, and finally to Beijing.

For over two thousand kilometers, iron towers stand one after another, and power lines stretch across the Gobi Desert.

Second paragraph: Photovoltaic power begins to be transmitted to other regions.

The combined daily power generation of the more than 60 existing photovoltaic power plants and the more than 20 newly built power plants this year is more than 60,000 kilowatt-hours.

Half of it will be reserved for local use in factories across the province, and the other half will be shipped eastward via the new route.

When it reaches Lanzhou, it is integrated into the Northwest Power Grid; when it reaches Xi'an, it is integrated into the North China Power Grid.

Moreover, this is just the beginning of Zhao Ping'an's plan. Zhao Ping'an plans to build twice as many photovoltaic power plants within three years, increasing the annual power generation to 4000 billion kilowatt-hours. Wind power generation equipment will also be put into operation later to provide sufficient fuel for the continued development of industry in the future.

The third paragraph contains data.

The electricity sent out had an 8% loss rate, which is lower than the expected 10%.

All provinces along the route have been connected, basically meeting the industrial and residential electricity needs of each province, with a coverage rate of 96%.

The last sentence was written by Ye Juan.

"I am in good health, don't worry!"

In mid-August, Zhao Pingan went to Dalian.

The special train arrived at the station in the early morning, and the sea breeze carried a salty and fishy smell.

On the platform, Commander Xiao was already waiting, with a row of naval officers standing behind him, all of whom were major generals or above.

Upon seeing Zhao Ping'an get out of the car, Commander Xiao strode forward to greet him.

"Minister Zhao, today is a big day for the Dalian Shipyard, a big day for the Navy, and a big day for the Republic."

Zhao Ping'an smiled and followed Commander Xiao into the car.

The convoy drove in a long procession toward the shipyard. Sentinels were stationed at every intersection along the way.

As the car entered the factory area, the enormous structure came into view from afar.

Zhao Pingan got out of the car, stood there, and watched for a while.

The gray-white hull, 326 meters long and over 40 meters wide, resembles a moving mountain.

The sunlight shone on the ship, reflecting a dazzling light.

The massive island superstructure stands on the starboard side of the deck, with scaffolding still erected on it, but its outline is already visible.

The straight deck extends forward, while the angled deck veers to the left, which is for aircraft landing.

The deck is over 90 meters wide, bigger than a football field.

Commander Xiao walked over and stood next to him.

"The lead ship of the Forrestal-class. Construction began in April 1955, and it has been two years, four months, and seven days since then."

His voice trembled slightly.

"Our aircraft carrier is finally going to be launched today."

Zhao Ping'an didn't say anything and just stood there watching.

A viewing platform has already been set up next to the dock.

The stage was filled with people—from industry, the military, shipyards, and a few experts from the Red Empire. This was a special arrangement by Zhao Ping'an, with a simple purpose: to "leak" the steam catapult technology to Big Brother, so that the Red Empire would be more powerful and put more pressure on the United States.

The red flag fluttered in the wind, and the military band stood to one side, their instruments polished to a gleaming shine.

Commander Xiao said, "At nine o'clock sharp, the launching ceremony will begin."

Zhao Pingan glanced at his watch. Ten minutes left.

Following Commander Xiao onto the reviewing stand, Commander Xiao sat in the center of the first row, with Zhao Ping'an sitting next to him, and the major generals in the back row.

At 9:00 AM sharp, the emcee announced the start of the ceremony.

The military band played music. It wasn't the national anthem, but a piece written by the shipbuilders themselves. Zhao Ping'an had never heard it before, but the melody was stirring and inspiring.

The shipyard director walked up to the microphone, holding a script in his hand, but didn't look at it.

"Comrades, on April 15, 1955, we laid the first keel in this shipyard."

To this day, 928 days and nights have passed, with over 22,000 workers working in three shifts, the machines never stopping even when people are resting.

His voice carried throughout the entire dock through the loudspeaker.

"Today, our aircraft carrier was launched!"

There was thunderous applause.

Zhao Ping'an sat there, not clapping, still staring at the ship in a daze.

The factory manager continued,

"The main structure is complete, all special steel is domestically produced, and the weld flaw detection pass rate is 99.97%."

The power system was successfully tested on the first attempt, and all the main pipelines were laid.

After its launch today, it will undergo a year of outfitting at the dock—installing radar, weapons, command systems, and living facilities. Then it will undergo mooring trials, followed by sea trials!

Another round of applause followed.

The factory manager concluded by saying,

"Comrades, this ship, once its outfitting is complete, once its sea trials are successful, once it officially enters service..."

"It will take our plane anywhere we want to go!"

The entire venue erupted in cheers.

Commander Xiao finally stood up and walked to the microphone.

Everyone fell silent.

He looked down at the workers below, those people covered in oil, their faces exhausted, their eyes full of expectation.

"Two years and four months," he said, "you built an aircraft carrier."

No one spoke.

"It usually takes Americans two and a half to three years to build this thing, from groundbreaking to launching. You guys are faster than them."

He paused.

"And what you make is no worse than what they make."

The applause rang out again.

Commander Xiao raised his hand to stop the applause.

"Today's launch isn't the end. Outfitting, testing, sea trials—there's a ton of work waiting. But today—"

He glanced back at the gray-white giant ship.

"Today is a good day."

He handed the microphone back to the emcee and returned to his seat.

The factory manager walked up to Zhao Ping'an, bent down, and said, "Minister Zhao, before you go into the water, would you like to say a few words to the workers?"

Zhao Pingan shook his head.

"They did a better job than I can describe."

The factory manager paused for a moment, then nodded and straightened up.

The hoisting whistle blew.

A sharp whistle pierced the air and echoed throughout the entire dock.

All the sounds suddenly stopped.

The roar of the machines, the sizzling of welding sparks, and the shouts of the workers all stopped.

Then, the gate began to open.

Seawater rushed in from the outside, from the gaps in the sluice gates, from the pipes, from all directions.

The water surged against the bottom of the dock, producing a low rumble.

The water level rose inch by inch, slowly overflowing the bottom of the ship, then the hull, and finally the waterline.

The boat rocked slightly.

It was very light, but everyone saw it.

Then, it floated up.

The gray-white behemoth, over 300 meters long and weighing 90,000 tons, floated gently on the water.

Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the clouds, illuminating the deck and making the entire ship appear as if it were plated with gold.

Applause erupted.

Starting from the dockside, the applause spread outwards in waves, until finally the entire shipyard was applauding.

The workers stood on the scaffolding waving, some threw their safety helmets into the air, and some hugged each other, crying and laughing at the same time.

The old engineer—the one who was squatting on the ground covering his face—was pulled up. His face was covered in tears, but he was smiling like a child.

The military band played "Ode to the Motherland".

Zhao Ping'an stood up with Commander Xiao, faced the aircraft carrier, and saluted.

Behind him, all the officers stood up and saluted at the same time.

Commander Xiao stood there, his eyes red-rimmed, but his back ramrod straight.