Chapter 227
To be fair, judging from the depth of the questions raised at the event, although Liu Guangqi hoped for a situation where latecomers could overtake the leaders, achieving a reversal in medium-scale integration in the short term is indeed a realistic challenge.
But this did not dampen the participants' enthusiasm for learning. The margins of their notebooks were filled with dense notes, and many people, rubbing their aching wrists, still refused to stop writing.
Whether it's transistor selection criteria, compiler principle optimization, or the details of equipment integration and debugging, Liu Guangqi's answers always hit the nail on the head. People in the meeting room frequently showed expressions of sudden realization.
In the following days, Liu Guangqi appeared at the research institute on time every day. From transistor screening specifications to the practical application of dynamic scheduling algorithms, and then to the layout optimization of integrated circuits, his explanations were insightful and easy to understand, with every word precious.
The audience consisted of elderly experts with graying temples and energetic technical personnel, all of whom, like students in a classroom, were intently taking notes on every key point. Their notebooks were quickly filled with neat handwriting, leaving almost no space.
Sometimes Professor Lu Hai would lead them to visit the research and development site of the 109C machine, so that the theory could be verified in a practical setting.
Time passed quietly, and this technical exchange meeting, organized by higher authorities and led by Liu Guangqi, was drawing to a close.
On the final day, after explaining the last technical point, Liu Guangqi gently put down the chalk in his hand.
Below the stage, those eyes shone like stars in the dark night, focused intently on one point.
He simply uttered one sentence:
"The seeds have been planted in the soil. The seedlings of the second-generation computer are waiting to grow on our land."
The applause surged like a tide and lingered for a long time.
After class, the people from various research institutes, clutching the knowledge they had just acquired, hurried out without looking back.
They didn't even have time to say thank you—everyone was burning with a fire in their hearts, wishing they could sprout wings and fly straight back to the lab.
Then, an unexpected storm quietly swept in.
***
The twelfth lunar month is coming to an end.
The last page of the old calendar printed with "1963" was torn off and gently fell to the ground.
A new book was hung on the wall, with the striking title "1964" at the beginning.
On New Year's Day, the department was given a rare full day off.
Liu Guangqi had already planned it out: he would go back to the courtyard house in the afternoon and have a family reunion dinner.
As for the morning—
He had to get the gift he had prepared for Ruixue and Fengnian out: a bunk bed.
The timber was selected from the general affairs office's warehouse.
Hearing that Liu Guangqi needed it, the section chief personally led people to the innermost part of the warehouse.
"Director Liu, please choose whichever you prefer! These are all thoroughly dried pine logs, very sturdy!"
"I can't accept this..."
"Hey! Everyone said the new furniture designs you gave me last time were great, so what's a little wood compared to that!"
After a few polite refusals, Liu Guangqi insisted on settling the bill, only asking the general affairs department to help him find a craftsman to make it.
The section chief laughed so hard his eyes disappeared:
"Don't worry, our experienced craftsmen here love taking your jobs!"
He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with curiosity:
"This time... is there something new?"
Sure enough, when Liu Guangqi took out the sketch of the children's bunk bed, the old craftsmen who had gathered around immediately widened their eyes.
"Oh my god!"
"This bed... can be made like this?"
"On the left is a **, and what's that curved thing on the right? A slide?"
"A bed for a baby with a slide? Director Liu, your imagination is truly out of this world!"
"Hey, you know what, the more I look at it, the more interesting it becomes..."
Amidst a cacophony of exclamations, the blueprints were passed around.
In their usual perception, a child's bed is nothing more than a frame made of a few wooden planks.
Where have you ever seen a "staircase and slide" like this?
But upon closer reflection, one has to admit that this design not only looks novel, but also truly saves space.
These days, which family doesn't have three or five children crammed into one room? When they get older, they're separated by a curtain.
A bed with two bunks like this cleverly solves the problem of having half a room.
Liu Guangqi just smiled and didn't explain further.
If he weren't currently of a lower rank and couldn't be assigned a cadre's quarters, he wouldn't have needed to go through all this trouble.
The appearance depicted on the drawing was indeed the result of him incorporating many ingenious ideas from later generations—
Especially the small slide that extends diagonally down from the upper bunk, which was a clever trick he had hidden.
Ruixue and Fengnian, the twins, are already three and a half years old.
Liu Guangqi thought it was time to let the siblings sleep separately.
But Fengnian, that boy, is very attached to his sister, and no amount of coaxing can make him happy.
Knowing son Moruo father.
Liu Guangqi knows her son's personality all too well: he loves novel and fun things.
As it turned out, this trick really worked.
When the bunk bed with the slide was erected in the room, Feng Nian's eyes lit up.
"A slide! It's a slide!"
The little guy let out a joyful shout, climbed up the small stairs using both his hands and feet, and then slid down with a "whoosh," landing steadily on the soft mat that Zhao Mengyun had laid out earlier.
Once, twice... He was like a happy little monkey, constantly busy going up and down.
Finally, hands on hips, chest puffed out, she solemnly announced:
"From today onwards, this is my territory! I'm sleeping here tonight!"
His smug expression showed that he had completely forgotten about his earlier insistence on sharing a lower bunk with his sister.
Watching from the side, Zhao Mengyun couldn't help but smile, glancing at Liu Guangqi with an undisguised amusement in her eyes.
She knew that her husband always had unexpected ideas.
He cleverly resolved the troublesome issue of his child sleeping in a separate bed by using a slide.
By the time the children's bunk beds were assembled, the sun was already setting.
That day, Liu Guangqi took a rare break and returned to the courtyard house.
I've been so busy lately that I haven't had a chance to go back to the courtyard, especially with my two little ones, Si Nian and Qinian, being so noisy on weekends.
It's a holiday, so I should come back and visit.
Honestly, with four children in the family these days, we have to think a lot before going out.
Two of them have just learned to walk, and there are two more that I have to hold in my arms all the time.
In another year or two, when all four kids are able to run and jump, his Volga truck probably won't be able to hold them all.
By then, the three-bedroom apartment allocated by his work unit will likely present a real challenge: how will the children sleep in separate rooms? After all, he has turned one room into a study, filled with blueprints and documents; of the remaining two rooms, one will be for the couple, and the other will have to accommodate four young children.
Of course, this was just something he was thinking about in his mind.
The house that Director Lin specially approved was nearly 90 square meters, a real size for that era, with each room spacious and bright.
Even if you put two bunk beds in the children's room, there would still be plenty of room.
Four children, two bunk beds...
Thinking of this, Liu Guangqi couldn't help but smile.
Does this mean the kids are experiencing dormitory life ahead of time?
He shook his head, dismissing the wild idea.
Regarding housing, there are only two options: either wait until the children grow up and you get promoted, then move from this cramped apartment building into a more spacious leadership building; or if your promotion doesn't change, you can buy a courtyard house outside with your own money.
After all, he and Zhao Mengyun's savings had long exceeded ten thousand.
In the early 1960s, their family had quietly become a "ten-thousand-yuan household".
Having money in hand brings peace of mind.
What might seem like a huge problem to others is simply a matter of choosing which path to take for him.
Back at the courtyard house, the neighbors saw Liu Guangqi returning with his wife and children, and naturally there was another lively exchange of greetings.
These days, having twins is already an enviable blessing, but this couple had two sets in their lifetime, a boy and a girl, and twins in total.
With such good fortune, who wouldn't want to share in the joy?
Liu Guangqi could only put on a polite but slightly embarrassed smile and deal with each of them.
Interestingly, Sha Zhu wasn't in the yard this time. I heard he went on a blind date during the New Year's Day holiday at the factory.
Sha Zhu wasn't there, but Xu Damao was.
Sure enough, once the crowd had dispersed, Xu Damao secretly pulled Liu Guangqi aside, offering his congratulations while subtly inquiring about any secret methods for having twins.
Liu Guangqi found it amusing, but he couldn't bring himself to say something like "you can't have children," as that would be too blunt and hurt her feelings, and might even cause her to become an enemy.
He just laughed and said it was all a matter of luck. If there really were such a formula, wouldn't all the leaders of those ministries have a bunch of children?
Xu Damao thought about it and felt it made sense—those big shots could have anything they wanted, and if such a good thing really existed, they would have used it long ago.
Unable to find out any information, he immediately became dejected and walked away with his head hanging low.
Liu Guangqi didn't say anything else.
And so, the New Year's Day family dinner was over in the noisy yet lukewarm atmosphere of the backyard.
The following day, the New Year's Day holiday ended.
Thick smoke billowed from the chimneys of various units and factories once again, and the roar of machinery once more enveloped the streets.
With the year-end approaching, everyone is putting in their best effort, hoping to bring a perfect end to a busy year in the last half month.
however--
The office was shrouded in an almost palpable heat, the rustling of papers and the scratching of pens creating a unique rhythm of labor. Suddenly, the telephone rang, like a silver needle, piercing the stagnant air.
The office occupant paused briefly, holding the document, before reaching out to pick up the receiver.
"Office of the Academy Committee"
"Boss—we did it! We succeeded!"
The voice that burst from the receiver was hoarse and distorted, trembling even with static. The office occupant frowned slightly and moved the receiver away: "Where are you from? Speak clearly."
"East China Computer Institute! This is the director!" A deep breath came from the other end, followed by more rapid enunciation, "Following Committee Member Liu's technical plan, we have completed the comprehensive upgrade of the J-501 machine... The new second-generation machine has just passed the final test, with a peak computing speed of 250,000 operations per second!"
"What?"
The knuckles gripping the receiver suddenly turned white. The Golden Star fountain pen, which he had used for many years, slipped from his fingers and tapped crisply on the mahogany table.
"Say it again, how many?"
"Two hundred and fifty thousand! Two hundred and fifty thousand times per second!"
The receiver, still warm from being hung up, suddenly shrieked at the corner of the table. He slowly raised his hand, hearing another equally trembling voice pierce his eardrums:
"The North China Institute reports its success to the Academy Committee! Using the architecture provided by Committee Member Liu, we have successfully manufactured our first fully independent second-generation computer—named 'Taihang 121'—with a measured computing power of 110,000 operations per second!"
A smile spread from the depths of his eyes, tracing the lines at the corners. But before he could respond, the dark green vending machine in the corner suddenly began frantically spitting out paper, the gears turning rapidly like a sudden downpour.
The telegraph operator jogged over and handed over a slip of paper; the few lines of text carried immense weight:
"The Harbin 441-B type transistor computer has been finalized and put into production. Its performance meets the standards and it will be put into use immediately."
For the next seven days and nights, this 20-square-meter office became the center of a vortex of good news.
The phone rang incessantly, different regional accents mingling with similar elation, pouring from the receiver. ** Papers piled up like snowflakes, gradually obscuring the work schedule beneath the glass tabletop.**
"The second-generation fighter jet from the Southwest Institute has passed acceptance testing!"
"The Jinling Institute's 'Yangtze River II' supercomputer is now operational!"
Place names were linked together in the register, forming a star map, and the dawn of the second-generation computer was sweeping across this land like wildfire. Those figures who once frowned in technical classes now had new strength infused into their straight backs.
When this news finally reached Liu Guangqi, he was standing in front of the cleanroom workbench in the integrated circuit laboratory, observing the etching patterns on the silicon wafer through a microscope.
The sound of hurried footsteps grew louder as they approached, eventually turning into a frantic knocking on the door. The assistant researcher, leaning against the doorframe, gasped for breath, sweat plastering to his flushed cheeks.