Chapter 221

At 4 p. m., Zhao Gong brought Feng Yan to the materials testing site.

In the center of the site stood a huge slab, ten meters long, five meters wide, and twenty centimeters thick.

The slab's surface bore a dark gray dragon-scale pattern, but the color varied slightly in different areas.

"This is a test panel of Dragon Scale-Space Type II." Zhao Gong lit his pipe, pointed at the panel, and said.

"This panel is divided into four areas: the upper left is the first generation, the upper right is our own second generation, the lower left is a simplified version for civilian use, and the lower right…"

He paused: "It's made from the formula for the foot-basin chicken."

Feng Yan stepped closer to observe.

To the naked eye, the four areas looked almost identical.

But when scanned with specialized detection equipment, the data came out:

First generation: repair efficiency 92%, strength coefficient 1.0 (baseline)

Second generation: repair efficiency 96%, strength coefficient 1.3

Civilian simplified version: repair efficiency 45%, strength coefficient 0.7

Foot-basin chicken version: repair efficiency 88%, strength coefficient… 0.9?

"The strength is still that high?" Feng Yan raised an eyebrow.

"It's only high on the surface." Zhao Gong sneered, pressed a few keys on the console, and said, "Watch closely."

The speakers atop the test field emitted a low-frequency vibration sound; though slight, it was distinctly uncomfortable to the human ear.

As the vibration continued, the four slabs began to show different reactions:

The first and second generations hardly changed;

the civilian simplified version developed fine surface cracks, but soon stabilized;

while the "foot-basin chicken version"…

first its surface luster gradually dulled, as if covered with a layer of gray.

then a faint "crackling" sound came from within the material, like ice cracking.

Finally, when the vibration had lasted three minutes.

"Crack!"

The entire slab split cleanly along its center line without warning into two halves.

The fracture surface was as smooth as a mirror, with no signs of fiber tearing.

"Brittle." Zhao Gong exhaled a smoke ring.

"A specific frequency of mechanical vibration will break the molecular chains of the three additives missing from that formula."

"Once the chains break, the material shifts from ductile to brittle and shatters on impact."

Feng Yan looked at the slab split in half and asked, "Will the Yamata-no-Orochi's engine produce that specific frequency?"

"According to the Yamata-no-Orochi thruster design we obtained," Chen Guang's voice came over the communicator.

"Although they're using a copy of our civilian-grade fusion powerplant, its vibration spectrum perfectly covers the embrittlement band."

"Moreover, to gain greater thrust, they even amplified the energy in that band."

"In other words…" Feng Yan said.

"In other words," Li Yang's voice cut in from the Penglai bridge.

"If the Yamata-no-Orochi runs at full power for more than ten minutes, its hull material will begin to embrittle, and if it then performs a few high‑maneuver actions…"

"it will shatter like glass." Zhao Gong finished the sentence, then took another puff.

Feng Yan turned: "Chen Guang, package the simulation results for Torch Dragon-3 and send them to Minister Lei and Li Yang; Zhao Gong, how's the production progress on the second‑generation material?"

"The Penglai's full‑ship refit is complete." Zhao Gong said.

"The defense coefficient exceeds the design target by 30%; now it's just a production capacity issue—the new line won't start up until next month."

"That's enough." Feng Yan looked eastward, toward the East Sea.

"They've already set the stage; it wouldn't be right for us not to put on a good show."

Over the comms, Li Yang's voice came: "All systems on Penglai are ready."

He paused, then added:

"The Kuafu-3 missile is already pre‑heated and can be launched at any time; if needed, it will reach the exercise area in just four seconds."

Feng Yan smiled: "Don't rush; let's wait for the show to begin."

He walked out of the test field as the sunset sank in the west.

Meanwhile, in the eastern sky, thunder rumbled faintly behind the clouds.

As if foreshadowing something.

Late at night, in an old residential compound in Yanjing.

Zhou Ming finished a day's training and dragged his weary body home.

This afternoon in the simulator, he finally got his hands on the genuine Heaven‑Controlling mech—though it was only a trainer, the sense of man‑machine unity excited him so much he could hardly sleep.

He was in the shower when his phone buzzed with a news push: "The Foot‑Basin Chicken and Eagle Country have announced a joint exercise for tomorrow, and Longguo says it will send personnel to observe."

He dried his hands, opened the information, saw the exercise area's coordinate map, and frowned.

That location is less than a hundred nautical miles from his hometown's little fishing village.

He recalled his grandfather often pointing to the eastern sea when he was a child, saying: "Those are our Longguo islands, those waters are our Longguo fish, but nowadays people keep trying to take what belongs to us."

His grandfather passed away three years ago, never seeing the mech's emergence nor the birth of Penglai.

Zhou Ming closed the news, opened his contacts, and found Li Yang's number.

After hesitating a few seconds, he still sent a message:

"Director Li, can reserve personnel apply to join a mission with Penglai?"

Just after sending it, he already felt a bit regretful, thinking he had been a little too rash.

But two minutes later, he received a reply:

«Want to get on the ship? »

Zhou Ming hurriedly typed: «Yes! I promise I won't hold you back! »

«Next week there will be carrier-based mecha adaptation training; if you pass, you can join the Penglai for a short cruise mission. »

Zhou Ming stared at the screen, his fingers trembling slightly.

He replied with a «Thank you, Director», then put down his phone and looked out the window.

In the night sky, a particularly bright star was slowly streaking across—that was exactly the direction of the Deep Sea Dragon Palace space station.

And in a higher orbit, the Tiangong Shipyard was simultaneously constructing three Penglai-class warships.

Looking farther out, the construction robots at the Moon Base had already dug the first scoop of lunar regolith.

Everything was moving, everything was changing.

Zhou Ming suddenly felt that his little wish to «pilot a mecha» was being swept up into a torrent belonging to the new era.

And he was already ready to jump in.

The lights were still on in Feng Yan's office on the top floor of the Longyin Research Institute.

On the desk lay the exercise invitation; beside it was the simulation report for Torch Dragon-3, and next to that was the full status checklist for Penglai.

He picked up the Guanghan Palace model and examined it closely under the light.

Engraved on the base of the model was a line of small text: «Our goal is the stars and the sea, but the first step is to sweep clean our own doorstep. »

A knock sounded at the door.

«Come in. »

Wang Hao poked his head in, holding two bowls of instant noodles: «Feng bro, want a late-night snack? All that's left is the old‑jar pickled cabbage, but I've added two sausages. »

Feng Yan set down the model: «Come on. »

The two ate noodles at the office desk.

Wang Hao slurped and said: «Guangzi told me that the Eight‑Headed creature at the Foot‑Basin Chicken uses brittle material—do we really want to go watch it? »

«Sure. » Feng Yan took a sip of soup, «They've invited us—how could we not go? »

«But what if they don't fly? »

«They'll fly. » Feng Yan looked out the window, «We've spent so much money and waited so long—if we don't give them a flight to show their masters, how can we answer? »

Wang Hao grinned: «Then what should we bring as a gift? How about praising Father-3? »

«Let's bring it for now. » Feng Yan said, «Whether it'll be useful depends on their performance. »

After finishing the noodles, Wang Hao cleared the bowls and got ready to leave, but just as he reached the door he turned back and said: «By the way, Feng bro, I added another little paint job to Penglai's bow. »

«What did you add this time? »

«Just a line of small text: «Professional demolition, free guidance. »» Wang Hao gave a hehe laugh.

«It's written in luminescent material, so it's only visible at night, and if you don't want to see it you can hide it anytime. »

Feng Yan: «…Hurry up and get lost to sleep. »

Wang Hao hurriedly slipped away.

The office fell quiet again.

Feng Yan pulled up the real‑time satellite image of the East Sea exercise area, seeing that the carrier Reagan had already reached its designated position, with the Sea Fog nearby.

And three hundred kilometers above them, Penglai was hovering in orbit in silent mode, its optical camouflage placing it right over the enemies' heads—yet they couldn't detect it.

Only the newly engraved line on the bow glowed faintly under the starlight, looking from afar like a star.

Only through a high‑precision telescope could the eight small characters be seen: «Professional demolition, free guidance. »

Feng Yan shut down the screen, picked up his coat, and walked out of the office.

The show will begin tomorrow.