Chapter 592: Just Bragging

*Le Figaro* published a satirical cartoon depicting Li Mingyuan as Don Quixote riding a calligraphy brush toward a paper-mâché Taiyang, with the caption: "The Dreamer of the East: A Fusion Fantasy Built with Paper and Ink."

Li Mingyuan was flipping through the translated reports in his office; there was no anger on his face, but rather an inexplicable smile that appeared from time to time.

"Their imagination is quite rich," he said with a laugh, pointing at the *Le Figaro* cartoon, "though this drawing actually looks quite like me."

Minister Zhang, however, was so angry his face turned pale: "These Western reporters are too rude! They don't understand our technological strength at all, yet they dare to mock us like this!"

"Don't be angry," Li Mingyuan soothed, "let them laugh all they want. The harder they laugh, the more it will sting when they get slapped in the face later."

Just as he was speaking, his secretary knocked and entered, handing over an urgent telegram: "Chief Engineer Li, the Star-Spangled Country Academy of Sciences has just issued a joint statement; multiple Nobel Prize winners in physics have jointly questioned our 'Flame Dragon' project."

Li Mingyuan took the telegram and quickly scanned the contents. This statement was issued jointly by twelve top Western physicists, sternly criticizing the Long Country's fusion plan as "completely detached from scientific reality."

The statement read: "According to current physical theories and the level of materials science, the technical conditions of the fifties are completely insufficient to support a stable nuclear fusion reactor. Sustained, stable fusion reactions with a Q-value greater than 1 remain a pipe dream at this stage. This move by the Long Country government is nothing more than a waste of precious national resources for a political show."

"These old stubborn fools," Li Mingyuan sneered, "trapped by their own theoretical frameworks, unable to see the possibility of a breakthrough."

Star-Spangled Country, White House, Tuoyuanying Bangongshi.

Energy Secretary Thompson was reporting to the President on the status of the Long Country's "Flame Dragon" Phase II project.

"Mr. President, our assessment is that the Long Country's statement is purely political propaganda with no scientific basis," Thompson said confidently, "According to our technical roadmap, practical nuclear fusion will take at least 30 to 50 years. For the Long Country to claim it will be built within ten years is simply a fantasy."

The President leaned back in his chair, thoughtful: "But they did publish that fusion paper in *Cangjie*, and our scientists have admitted that those theories are physically self-consistent."

"That is only theory, sir," Thompson shook his head, "There is a huge chasm between theory and engineering practice. It is like the difference between building a paper airplane and a Boeing aircraft. Furthermore, the Long Country's industrial base is so weak that they cannot even build a decent Computer; how could they possibly build such complex equipment?"

"Are you sure they cannot build a decent Computer?" the President frowned, "Hasn't the Longxin-III already shocked our experts?"

Thompson coughed lightly, looking somewhat embarrassed: "That might be an exception. But nuclear fusion involves a wider range of disciplines and higher technical difficulty. I bet that by the time the Long Country lights up their so-called fusion lamp, our moon-landing astronauts will be having a barbecue party on the moon."

The President laughed: "That's a good metaphor. You can use it at the next press conference."

Thompson nodded, then added: "However, out of caution, I suggest we increase our investment in nuclear fusion research. Just in case—I mean, just in case the Long Country really does make some progress, we won't fall too far behind."

"Agreed," the President nodded, "but the external stance must be consistent—the Long Country's fusion plan is a pipe dream and not worth mentioning."

Beijixiong Guo, Kremlin.

"These Long Country people are truly crazy," Chairman Koriakin shook his head, holding the intelligence report he had just received, "What makes them think they can build a fusion reactor in ten years?"

Academician Kravchenko responded cautiously: "Comrade Chairman, although it sounds incredible, considering the paper they published in *Cangjie*... the technical route does have its rationality."

"Theory and practice are two different things," Koriakin scoffed, "Didn't you yourself say that it would take at least a twenty or thirty-year transition period from small-scale laboratory devices to industrial-scale fusion reactors?"

"Yes, that is indeed the case according to conventional scientific research paths," Kravchenko nodded, "but the Long Country people seem to be... taking a somewhat unconventional path."

Koriakin sneered: "This is nothing but political propaganda, a smokescreen to divert domestic conflicts. We all know the Long Country's economic situation; what do they have to invest 12 billion into this kind of super-project? Absurd!"

The head of the intelligence department interjected: "Our analysis is the same; this is likely a diversion. The Long Country may be promoting the 'Flame Dragon' project with great fanfare on the surface, while actually secretly advancing other military projects."

"Correct," Koriakin nodded, "Step up surveillance on the Long Country, especially their military facilities and scientific research institutions. I want to know what on earth they are up to. As for this so-called 'Flame Dragon' Phase II project, it is not worth our excessive attention."

Europe, London University Physics Department.

Renowned physics professor Hawkins was teaching his students, and the topic inevitably turned to the Long Country's "Flame Dragon" project.

"This is simply the biggest joke of the century," Professor Hawkins mocked, "The Long Country claims they will build a fusion reactor in ten years; this is as absurd as saying they plan to cross the Taipingyang on a bamboo raft."

A burst of laughter erupted in the classroom.

"Professor, but the paper they published in *Cangjie* did demonstrate some innovative theories," a young graduate student questioned.

"Theories?" Hawkins sneered, "Anyone can draw a beautiful reactor design on paper, but the real challenge lies in engineering implementation. The extreme temperatures, pressures, and precise control required for nuclear fusion are far beyond the capabilities of current materials science and engineering technology. The Long Country cannot even build decent precision instruments, yet they dream of building the most complex energy device in human history?"

The students laughed again, only the graduate student who asked the question remained thoughtful.

Hawkins continued: "Furthermore, even we and the Star-Spangled Country, after decades of research, have only just touched the level of a Q-value around 0.7. What makes the Long Country think they can suddenly bridge this chasm? The answer is simple—political propaganda. They need a grand technological vision to unite the hearts of the people and divert domestic conflicts. This is nothing more than an Eastern version of a 'scientific myth'."

Star-Spangled Country, Princeton University campus.

Several physics students were sitting in a cafe, heatedly discussing the Long Country's fusion plan.

"Hey, have you heard? The Long Country is going to build a fusion reactor in ten years," a blond boy said with a smile, "Are they going to announce they'll send people to the moon with rockets next?"

"Don't be ridiculous," another student replied, "They can't even build a decent Computer, how could they possibly achieve nuclear fusion?"

"Seriously," a student wearing glasses said sternly, "According to the principles of physics, nuclear fusion might indeed be the energy solution of the future, but the technical challenges are too great. Plasma instability, material tolerance, energy extraction... each one is a huge technical obstacle."

"Exactly," the blond boy nodded, "My dad works at the Department of Energy, and he says our experts estimate it will take at least 50 years to achieve commercial fusion. For the Long Country people to claim ten years, they are simply telling fairy tales."