Chapter 542: Coating Forged, the Great Task Returns

The morning sun had just crept over the wall of the research institute when Lin Qinhua and Chen Mo had already slipped into the materials testing lab.

The lab bench was spotless, with ten metal test pieces coated with stealth coating neatly arranged on top; beside it were the high‑temperature oven, salt‑spray tester, sand‑dust simulation chamber, and other equipment, their indicator lights flashing a faint green as they waited to be started.

"Let's double‑check the parameter sheet from yesterday." Lin Qinhua put on a white lab coat, slipped on rubber gloves, and pushed a data sheet toward Chen Mo. "The high‑temperature test starts at 1500 °C, holding every 100 °C rise for two hours, recording the coating's attenuation data; the salt‑spray test must simulate a high‑salinity marine environment for 72 hours, focusing on whether the edges lift."

Chen Mo nodded, his finger tracing the red mark on the data sheet: "I've already confirmed with the equipment team—all instruments are debugged, calibration error within 0.01 %. Besides, I added a sand‑impact test to simulate a fighter jet flying in desert conditions; that's something we missed before."

Lin Qinhua's eyes lit up: "Great addition! In real‑world conditions, sand wear on the coating is crucial." She picked up a test piece, examined it carefully under the light—the coating was uniform and smooth, with not a trace of bubbles—"The spray quality of this batch is good; it should hold up under extreme testing."

They divided the work: Chen Mo fixed the specimens into the high‑temperature oven, while Lin Qinhua entered the parameters on the console.

As the start button was pressed, a faint hum came from inside the high‑temperature oven and the temperature display began to race upward.

"Keep the heating rate at 5 °C per minute—don't go too fast, or the specimens will warp," Lin Qinhua cautioned, eyes fixed on the screen.

While waiting for the temperature to rise, Chen Mo handed Lin Qinhua a cup of warm water:

"Take a break; the high‑temperature stage will take at least four more hours. You stayed up late yesterday organizing the data—look after yourself."

Lin Qinhua took the cup, feeling its warmth through her fingertips, and her heart warmed as well:

"It's fine, I'm used to it. Once this batch of test data comes out, I can feed it back to the older brother's side without delaying the J‑20's mass‑production schedule."

She glanced at Chen Mo, a smile playing on her lips: "This test wouldn't have gone so smoothly without your help—I'd really be overwhelmed doing it alone."

Chen Mo's cheeks flushed slightly as he scratched his head: "We're partners; helping each other is what we do. Besides, I'm happy to be doing R&D alongside you."

Just then the high‑temperature oven emitted a soft beep—the temperature had reached 1500 °C.

They immediately stopped chatting and gathered around the console.

Lin Qinhua set the holding mode, picked up her notebook, and began recording the initial data:

"The coating's appearance is unchanged; radar cross‑section attenuation is 4.8 %, as expected."

Over the next few hours they took turns watching the equipment, occasionally getting up to check the specimens' condition and logging each set of data.

When the temperature rose to 1800 °C, the specimens' surfaces showed an extremely subtle change in luster.

Chen Mo immediately picked up a magnifying glass for a close look: "Qinhua, look—the edge is turning a bit dark; is the coating starting to oxidize?"

Lin Qinhua took the magnifying glass, examined it carefully for a moment, then compared it with her earlier notes:

"It's normal—at this temperature the coating will oxidize slightly, but as long as the attenuation stays under 6 % there's no problem. Keep observing and record the data every half hour."

The lab clock ticked away; outside, the sunlight climbed higher and then began to slant westward.

They skipped lunch, gnawing on a few pieces of bread they'd brought, then dove back into the testing.

Not until mid‑afternoon were the preliminary data from the high‑temperature and salt‑spray tests fully recorded, at which point the sand‑impact test was also started.

Meanwhile, in the Lin Family Courtyard, Lin Shengli was sitting in a rattan chair in the yard, flipping through the equipment inspection report that Lin Zhengcheng had just finished organizing.

Zheng Juan walked over with a plate of sliced fruit and set it beside him: "The kids are all busy with work, yet you're taking it easy—are you really planning to enjoy your blessings?"

Lin Shengli set the report down, bit into an apple slice, and said with a smile:

"The kids can now stand on their own; it's time for me to step back. Once Zheng Cheng's side finishes the equipment hookup and Qinhua's test data comes out, I'll hand over the responsibility completely and spend more time strolling with you."

No sooner had he spoken than the home phone rang—it was Minister Zhao calling.

Lin Shengli's expression instantly turned grave: "Minister Zhao, hello."

"Shengli, do you have time now?" Zhao Guojian's voice came through the receiver, tinged with an unusual seriousness: "There's a matter of national importance that must be discussed in person. I'm waiting for you at the ministry."

Lin Shengli felt a stir inside and immediately replied: "I'm on my way—I'll be there within half an hour."

After hanging up, Lin Shengli grabbed the jacket draped over the chair back and told Zheng Juan: "The ministry has an urgent matter; I need to go over."

"That urgent?" Zheng Juan worried, "Should I let the kids know?"

"No need—they're busy with work; don't disturb them." Lin Shengli strode to the gate, started the car, and headed straight for the Military Industry Department.

On the road he pondered: Minister Zhao's tone was so grave, it was likely related to a follow‑up R&D task—had the variable‑cycle engine run into trouble, or had the United States made a new move?

Half an hour later, Lin Shengli entered Zhao Guojian's office.

He had barely sat down when Zhao Guojian pushed a file stamped "Top Secret" across the desk, his expression grave.

"Shengli, take a look at this."

Lin Shengli picked up the file and flipped through it quickly; the tighter his brow grew, the more he read.

The document laid out in detail the pre‑research plan for a next‑generation stealth bomber, along with intelligence on the United States' new‑type bomber development—its core technology had already been validated and it was about to enter prototype manufacturing.

"Minister Zhao, this is…" Lin Shengli lifted his head, his tone solemn.

"That's right—the state has decided to formally launch the R&D project for a next‑generation stealth bomber." Zhao Guojian spoke firmly: "After repeated study we all agree that only you can lead this project for us to feel confident. Your experience in the stealth‑fighter field is the richest, and the team has worked with you for years—no one is more suited."

Lin Shengli fell silent for a moment, his fingertips lightly tapping the file.

He had originally planned his post‑retirement life to spend more time with family and enjoy peaceful days.

But seeing the file's contents, thinking of the United States' step‑by‑step pressure in the defense arena and the state's security needs, his sense of duty ignited in an instant.

"I understand how important this project is." Lin Shengli lifted his gaze, his eyes firming: "Minister Zhao, I'll take on this burden. But I have a request: once we build the prototype of the next‑generation stealth bomber and complete its first flight, I hope to step back to a secondary role and hand the follow‑on work to the younger generation."

Hearing this, Zhao Guojian's face broke into a relieved smile: "Good! We'll do exactly as you say. As long as you can steer the project to success, the ministry will fully back your decision. I'll have the launch documents prepared right away—after that, resource allocation and team building will be entirely under your authority."

Lin Shengli nodded, tucked the file away, and said: "Tomorrow I'll gather the team for a meeting to work out a detailed R&D plan."

Stepping out of the Military Industry Department building, the sunset was already slanting, washing the sky in a shade of orange‑red.

Lin Shengli stood at the doorway, drew a deep breath, his heart heavy with the weight of the new responsibility yet full of hope for the future.