Chapter 517: Xu Damao Inquires About the Research Base

Just as dawn was breaking, dewdrops from last night still hung on the plane trees of the research base; when the wind blew, they rolled slowly down the veins of the leaves, striking the blue stone slabs and splashing tiny wet marks.

The lights in the laboratory had been on for most of the night, emitting a cold white glow that made the metal casings of rows of instruments gleam faintly.

The hiss of electric current, the light clink of test tubes, and the rustle of a pen moving across paper combined into the most regular sound of the early morning.

Hanna wore a white lab coat, sleeves rolled up to her forearms, a speck of fine white powder on her face; she stared at the nanomaterial coating sample before her, tweezers delicately holding a slide, which she placed into the detector. Numbers scrolled across the screen, her brows furrowed slightly, fingertips tapping lightly on the desk edge, she murmured the parameters under her breath, occasionally lifting a hand to push up her slipping glasses.

"How is it?" Lin Shengli walked over holding a cup of hot tea, condensation on the rim; he set the cup beside Hanna, his eyes on the screen, "After adjusting the ratio of the titanium alloy particles, has the high‑temperature resistance improved?"

Hanna rubbed her sore eye corners, pointing at the curve on the screen: "It's much better than before—under supersonic conditions the radar cross‑section dropped to 0.012 square meters, but it's still above the design target of under 0.01 square meters. I just tried raising the titanium‑alloy particle content to 16%, and the coating's toughness became insufficient, prone to cracking."

Lin Shengli leaned over to look at the data, tapping his fingertip at the curve's inflection point: "Don't rush; the integration of nanomaterial and titanium alloy inherently needs gradual refinement. Have the team split into two groups—one group monitors the 15% coating, running more high‑low temperature cycle tests to check stability; the other group tries adding 2% carbon‑fiber filaments to make up for the lack of toughness."

He paused there, then added, "No need to rush the schedule; every step's data must be solid—this is a military product, any shortfall is unacceptable."

Hanna took the hot tea, sipped a mouthful, and some of her fatigue eased: "I know; I've already arranged it. Zheng Peng's side reported preliminary data this morning on the fire‑control system optimization, and its compatibility with the stealth coating is still good."

Lin Shengli nodded, turned and walked to the window, pushing open a crack.

Outside, the sun had risen, golden light spreading across the training field; several young R&D staff hurried past, clutching blueprints, their faces full of vigor.

He recalled Qin Jingru saying she would go to the department store this morning to buy cloth for making winter clothes for the family, and also remembered Su Qing would bring a lunchbox to Zheng Juan; the corner of his mouth twitched into an unconscious smile—balancing family and country, that's roughly how it is: one side is the tough nut of overcoming hardships, the other the warm daily life of rice, oil, salt, and firewood.

At the same moment, the siheyuan in South Luogu Lane was far from peaceful.

Just as daybreak came, Qin Huairu clutched a wrinkled bundle of cloth and squatted at the alleyway entrance where Qin Jingru usually passed.

The deep‑autumn wind was chilly, making her shrink her neck, hands tucked into her sleeves, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the alley's direction, her heart full of anxiety.

Inside the bundle were several white‑flour steamed buns she had boiled all night; she claimed they were to "make amends" to Qin Jingru, but in truth she hoped Qin Jingru would give her some money and help send a thick cotton coat to Bang Geng in prison—Bang Geng had been sentenced to ten years, winter was approaching, she had no money for a coat and could only pin her hopes on Qin Jingru.

She had squatted for nearly an hour, her legs going numb, before she saw Qin Jingru emerge from the alley carrying a vegetable basket.

Qin Jingru wore a dark‑blue wool coat, her hair neatly combed, a small velvet flower pinned behind her ear, and her basket held fresh greens, eggs, and a slab of pork belly......

"Jingru!" Qin Huairu hurriedly rose, patted dust from her trousers, put on a fawning smile, and quickly stepped forward, "Finally caught you—I brought you a few buns, just steamed, still warm!"

Seeing her, Qin Jingru's expression instantly turned cold, her steps didn't pause, her tone devoid of any sentiment:

"I won't eat it; take it away."

She had long seen through Qin Huairu's intentions and wanted no further contact with her.

"Jingru, don't be like this!" Qin Huairu stepped closer, shoved the bundle into her hand, voice trembling with tears, "I know I was wrong before—I shouldn't have schemed against you, shouldn't have had designs on the Lin family. But Bang Geng is still in prison, winter is coming, I have no money to buy him a coat; please pity me, lend me some money and help send him a cotton coat—will you? As a member of the Lin family, your word carries weight; just consider it an act of virtue."

Qin Jingru abruptly stopped, gave her a cold stare, and pushed her bundle away:

"Qin Huairu, Bang Geng's crime earned him his punishment; the prison already provides standard winter clothing, so you needn't worry. As for money, I won't lend you any—I've helped you many times before, and you've always used it to indulge in laziness and gluttony; I won't spoil you any longer."

She paused, her tone growing heavier with a warning: "Furthermore, if I see you loitering here again pestering me, I'll have the guards send you straight to the police station—then you'll have even less face before the neighbors."

The few early‑riser neighbors buying vegetables nearby heard this and all came over curiously, pointing and whispering.

Some gossiped, "Qin Huairu is just greedy—Qin Jingru has already hooked up with General Lin and still wants to climb the social ladder," while others said, "Bang Geng brought his imprisonment on himself; he deserves it."......

Qin Huairu couldn't keep her composure, flushed with anger and anxiety, her eyes reddening, yet she dared not cause a scene—she knew Qin Jingru meant what she said; if she really summoned the guards, Qin Huairu wouldn't even be able to leave the alley.

She had no choice but to withdraw her hand resentfully, clutching the bundle, she gave Qin Jingru a fierce glare, muttering "cold‑hearted and ruthless," and slunk away.

Qin Jingru ignored her, swung her vegetable basket, and walked lightly toward the Lin family residence.

She knew full well that Qin Huairu was beyond reform—like a dog that can't stop eating feces—so she must stay on guard, not let her cause trouble at the Lin household and disturb the family's peace.

In the courtyard's central yard, Xu Damao was squatting by the wall base, chewing the fat with a scrap‑collecting old man.

He held a cigarette between his fingers, occasionally passing one to the old man; the chatter seemed casual, but every sentence steered toward the research base.

"Old Zhang, you often go to the research base to collect scrap—have you heard anything about any big project they're working on lately?" Xu Damao asked offhandedly, "I've heard that Lin Shengli fellow is tinkering with some new aircraft again; if we could get some gossip, maybe we could turn it into cash."

Old Zhang took a puff of his cigarette and waved his hand: "Don't indulge in wild fantasies! That place is heavily guarded— a post every three steps, a sentry every five. I can't even get near the gate, let alone collect scrap. Last time I walked two steps toward it, the guards stopped me, questioned me for ages, and almost arrested me as a spy."