Chapter 525: Furnace Fully Open

Zhao Zhiqiang saluted, turned and left. Lin Huaimin stood alone by the tower window, watching another fighter jet surge into the blue sky. This takeoff was flawless; the aircraft climbed rapidly, tracing an elegant arc across the heavens.

But Lin Huaimin knew that beneath this perfect façade lay hundreds of failures, mistakes, accidents, and the loss of young lives. That is the price of war, paid before the real combat even begins.

He picked up the training log on the desk, turned to a fresh page, and wrote the date: December 3, 1916. Then he wrote beneath:

"Today's training accidents: 1. One seriously injured. Cumulative accidents this month: 7. Deaths: 4, serious injuries: 9. Training intensity: maintained. Fuel consumption: 230% over budget."

The pen tip paused on the paper, the ink spreading slightly. Lin Huaimin thought of adding another line, but in the end he simply closed the log and locked it in the drawer.

Outside the window, another aircraft took off. The engine's roar sounded like a beast's howl, tearing through the desert sky.

2 p. m., Dubai First Shipyard.

Inside the massive dry dock, the hulls of six Lexington-class aircraft carriers had already taken shape. These 36,000‑ton behemoths lined up in a row, like six steel whales in slumber. A gantry crane moved overhead, lifting the multi‑hundred‑ton hull sections; welding sparks cascaded like a waterfall from above, painting brief, brilliant arcs in the dim dock.

Zhao Xuecheng stood on the observation platform of Slipway No. 3, holding a construction schedule, his brows tightly knit. The Minister of Industry was dressed in work trousers and a hard hat today, his face smeared with oil, making him unrecognizable as a senior official.

"Minister, here are the figures you requested," a young engineer ran over, handing a report. "Under the new shift system, three‑shift rotation does shorten the schedule, but a problem has emerged: workers are on duty twelve hours straight, fatigue builds, and the accident rate has risen by forty percent. Yesterday at Slipway 3 a riveter fell from fifteen meters and is still being treated in the hospital."

Zhao Xuecheng skimmed the report quickly. The numbers were brutal: work hours up fifty percent, accident rate up forty percent, quality defect rate up thirty percent.

"What does the supervision side say?"

"The supervision team has issued three warnings, saying that if we keep rushing, the hull welding quality will suffer. Especially the flight deck's load‑bearing structure—if the weld seams have flaws, a single bomb in wartime could cause the entire ship to break apart."

Zhao Xuecheng closed the report and looked toward the depths of the dock. There, thousands of workers bustled like ants in a steel jungle. Most were Chinese immigrants, with a fair number of Arabs and Malays. Drawn by high wages, they came from everywhere, living in temporary barracks beside the shipyard, working twelve hours a day, seven days a week.

"Tell the supervision team that the quality floor cannot be breached," Zhao Xuecheng concluded. "But the schedule cannot be delayed either. Solution… increase quality‑inspection frequency. After each critical operation, inspect immediately. Anything that fails is reworked on the spot, but record which crew is at fault. Crews that cause quality issues three times in a row will be removed from all critical positions."

"And the schedule…"

"I will apply to the President's Office to bring skilled workers from other shipyards for support. Also, inform the logistics department that, starting today, the shipyard mess will operate twenty‑four hours, providing three free meals. Install hot‑water showers in the dormitory area. The workers are giving their all; we must at least ensure they eat and sleep well."

The young engineer jotted notes quickly, then hesitated: "Minister, the workers are whispering… that a war might be coming? Otherwise why the rush to build aircraft carriers?"

Zhao Xuecheng gave him a glance. "Tell them that building aircraft carriers is to avoid war. The heavier the hammer in your hand, the less others dare to bully you. That's the simplest truth."

The engineer nodded as if half‑understood and ran off to relay the orders.

Zhao Xuecheng descended from the observation platform and walked along the passage bordering the dock. The air was thick with a sharp mix of steel, paint, and sweat. Massive noise surged from all directions—the hammer's thuds, the chainsaw's cuts, the crane's motor whir, the foreman's shouts—and all these sounds blended into a symphony unique to the industrial age.

"Minister Zhao!"

The dock supervisor rushed over, a man in his fifties with a scar running from his brow bone to his chin—a souvenir of an accident in his youth.

"Lao Yang, how's the progress?"

"We've been working nonstop for twenty‑four hours, but there are many issues," Lao Yang wiped sweat from his face. "Deguo's turbine units have arrived, but the installation drawings are inconsistent. Our engineers and Deguo technical advisors have been arguing for two days, still unresolved."

"Take me to see."

They entered the interior of the dock. It was hotter than outside, the air even more foul. The hull of the "Azure Dragon" was essentially complete, with workers installing the superstructure. In the mid‑ship engine room, a group of engineers circled a blueprint, arguing fiercely.

"According to the original design, this power unit requires additional cooling pipes, but there isn't enough space inside the hull!"

"Then redesign! Thin the armor thickness of the adjacent compartment…"

"Are you insane? That's next to the fuel tank! If the armor is thinned, how do we handle a hit and fire?"

Zhao Xuecheng walked over, and the crowd automatically cleared. The blueprint lay on a makeshift workbench, covered with red and blue pencil revision marks.

"What's the problem?" Zhao Xuecheng asked directly.

A bespectacled young engineer—who looked freshly graduated—pointed to the blueprint and said, "Minister, the German design is based on their manufacturing standards, but our tolerances are larger. Installing per the original drawing would cause a five‑millimeter interference between the unit and the hull structure. Either we modify the unit's base, or we thin the hull structure."

"How long to modify the base?"

"Re‑machining will take at least ten days."

"What about thinning the structure?"

"That's part of the Armour Belt extension; thinning it would lower the protection rating," an older engineer said, shaking his head.

Zhao Xuecheng stared at the blueprint, contemplating. Time, quality, safety—this was an impossible triangle, demanding a trade‑off.

"Execute both plans simultaneously," he finally decided. "First, assemble the best fitter team to repair and grind the unit's base on site, eliminating the interference. Second, inside the interference zone of the hull, add a ten‑millimeter anti‑collapse liner to compensate for the protection loss from thinning the armor."

"But that will add weight…"

"Calculate the weight gain, then shed mass from non‑critical areas. Remove some decorative structures, simplify interior fittings; a battleship isn't entering a naval beauty pageant."

The orders were clear, and the engineers immediately split up. Zhao Xuecheng watched their backs recede and said to Lao Yang, "You personally oversee this. The \"Azure Dragon\" must have no issues, understand?"

"Understood, Minister."