Chapter 146 Run 1 time

Chapter 146 Take a Run

A large, slightly rusty floor fan has been added to the laboratory.

The industrial fans that you used to only see in the kitchen of the school cafeteria had green blades and the wire mesh covers were still covered with a bit of greasy residue.

Zhang Yuan borrowed it from somewhere and it was currently placed next to the main computer on the table, plugged in and turned on at the highest setting.

The loud buzzing sound completely drowned out the noise from the Pentium microcomputer cooling fans.

In pursuit of ultimate heat dissipation, Zhang Yuan removed all the side panels from the cases of the two computer mainframes that handled the main computing tasks.

The green motherboard, densely packed with capacitors, and the memory sticks inserted in the slots are all exposed to the air without any reservation.

The large fan was blowing fiercely at the two disassembled computer cases.

The wind was so strong that it made the draft paper and discarded printed documents on the table rustle loudly. Zhang Yuan, shirtless with a towel draped around his neck that was no longer recognizable as its original color, stared at the monitor with bloodshot eyes.

"Where are we?"

Lin Fang, the senior student in charge of the flutter model of the car body side, came over with a water cup and asked loudly, "The fan is too loud, you can't hear me unless you speak loudly."

"0.008 seconds".

Zhang Yuan wiped the sweat from his forehead and stared intently at the progress bar on the screen, which was crawling forward like a snail.

"It ran for one-thousandth of a second longer than yesterday."

"How much memory are you using?"

"Ninety-three percent."

Zhang Yuan gritted his teeth.

"It's still soaring."

Lin Fang sighed, placed the water glass on the iron shelf next to her, and pulled up a chair to sit down behind Zhang Yuan.

This is the fourth day since the group meeting that day.

For those four days, the entire research team seemed to have fallen into a state of desperate madness.

No one went back to the dormitory to sleep. When they were tired, they would lie down on the cots next to the computer for a while, and when they woke up, they would continue to gather around the main control computer.

In order to get this 1990s microcomputer to run that damned continuous partial differential equation, Zhang Yuan and his team used almost every makeshift method imaginable.

Initially, physical cooling methods were used.

They opened the windows, turned on the fan, and some even suggested getting some ice from the school cafeteria kitchen to put under the computer case. However, they gave up the idea because they were worried that condensation would drip into the motherboard and cause a short circuit.

After physical cooling proved ineffective, they began to recklessly explore the limits of what fluid mechanics allowed.

"Senior brother."

A bespectacled boy sitting in front of another computer turned his head, his tone tentative.

"How about... we adjust the initial air density parameter in the tunnel down a little bit?"

Adjusting it by 0.05 percentage points shouldn't make a significant difference on a macro level, but it will save a considerable amount of computing power.

Zhang Yuan didn't even turn his head, interrupting him directly.

"no."

Zhang Yuan's voice was somewhat hoarse, but it carried an unyielding stubbornness.

"Air density is a fixed parameter. The standard value given by the wind tunnel laboratory at normal temperature and pressure is the value. If you dare to change the air density today, you can dare to change the initial velocity of the train entering the tunnel tomorrow. This is called falsification, not parameter adjustment."

The boy with glasses was turned away, and he rubbed his hair in frustration, muttering under his breath.

"We can't just keep going like this, how many memory sticks have burned out this week?"

Chen Zhuo sat in that secluded workstation near the door.

When the aftershocks of the large fan reached him, they weren't as strong anymore, but they still made the book "Fundamentals of Aerodynamics" on his desk rustle loudly.

He put down his pen, stood up, and went to the water dispenser to fill a half-cup with warm water.

As he turned to walk back, the residual wind from the industrial fan made him squint.

Chen Zhuo stopped and looked at the computer case whose casing had been removed.

The wind was so strong that the colorful data cables plugged into the motherboard were shaking violently, and the plastic connectors looked like they were about to come loose.

Chen Zhuo held up a water glass and pointed to the computer case.

"Senior brother, this fan is indeed quite powerful."

Zhang Yuan didn't even look up, his eyes glued to the screen.

"That's right, I spent ages trying to get close to the head chef at the second canteen before I was able to carry it back."

"The wind is strong enough."

Chen Zhuo glanced at the few ribbon cables on the motherboard that were trembling slightly with the wind, and said slowly and deliberately.

"However, if we get any closer, I reckon the computer might disconnect before it finishes calculating the result."

Lin Fang, who was frowning and looking worried, couldn't help but burst out laughing.

Zhang Yuan paused for a moment, then turned to look in the direction Chen Zhuo was pointing. He immediately saw the motherboard cables trembling wildly in the strong wind, ready to disconnect at any moment.

Zhang Yuan broke out in a cold sweat and quickly stood up, frantically dragging the large fan backward.

"You little rascal, you're usually so mild-mannered, but you always suddenly say something like that to me."

Zhang Yuan glared at Chen Zhuo helplessly.

The voice just fell.

"One drop"

A sharp beeping sound came from the open computer case.

Zhang Yuan's expression froze instantly.

Almost simultaneously, everyone rushed towards the monitor.

On the screen, the progress bar, which had crawled to 0.009 seconds, got stuck. Then, the image distorted and turned into a despairing pure blue.

A string of white error codes was flashing on the blue screen.

MemoryOverflow.

Memory overflow.

He died again.

Zhang Yuan stood there blankly, his hand still in the same position as when he was moving the fan.

After a long while, he slumped into a chair like a deflated balloon.

"Unplug the power."

Zhang Yuan's voice was so low it was almost inaudible.

The boy with glasses silently bent down and unplugged the socket.

The industrial fan blades were still spinning due to inertia, but the energy and spirit that had sustained everyone in the lab through four sleepless nights completely died out at that moment.

Chen Zhuo remained silent.

He quietly returned to his workstation, holding his water glass.

He sat down in the chair, removed the water glass from his books, and took a dark blue hardcover notebook from the drawer.

Opening the notebook, I found it filled with calculations written in black ballpoint pen.

He is working on an extremely large project.

While Zhang Yuan and his team were trying to fool the computer by using a large fan and modifying physical parameters, Chen Zhuo was using his mathematical background to perform a forced amputation on the fluid model.

The reason why continuous partial differential equations crash microcomputers is that they need to calculate the force changes of air molecules in every tiny spatial grid in an extremely short time.

It requires absolute continuity in the process, like drawing a high-definition movie frame by frame.

What Chen Zhuo had to do was to extract this most complex 0.01 second directly from the timeline.

He's stopped making movies.

He wanted to give the computer a photo as a starting point and another photo as an ending point. As for how the air in between churned and compressed, he used a discrete algebraic matrix to package it into an opaque black box.

What goes in is the initial kinetic energy, and what comes out is the final potential energy and pressure peak.

It sounds simple, but mathematically it involves a massive derivation process.

Chen Zhuo is not a god; he cannot conjure up a matrix that perfectly connects the preceding and following physical states out of thin air.

If the symbol of a node in the matrix is ​​reversed, or the energy conversion coefficient is given incorrectly, the final data will become a pile of waste paper.

He must be meticulous.

Chen Zhuo frowned slightly as he looked at the few lines of Jacobi matrix variants on his notebook.

It's stuck here.

After discarding the time derivative, the error on the boundary conditions begins to show a divergent trend.

If the error in the first layer of the grid is one ten-thousandth, after one hundred iterations of the matrix, this error will be amplified to five percent.

A 5% error rate is a disaster for building high-speed rail.

Chen Zhuo picked up his pen and drew a circle on the radiating neck.

He didn't get agitated, nor did he scratch his head like Zhang Yuan did. He simply calmly went through the first three pages of derivation again, examining his logical chain line by line.

He wouldn't allow himself to present a half-finished product to fool people.

For the past few days, he has been sitting in this secluded workstation.

He would eat at the cafeteria when he was hungry, and take a nap in his dormitory when he was tired. He would report to the lab on time every day, and he would not say a word when he saw his seniors sighing.

While everyone else was staring blankly at the computer screen, the black ballpoint pen in his hand kept scratching on the draft paper.

The ink has already used up two refills.

In the evening, Chen Zhu crossed out half a page of calculations on the draft paper.

He discovered that a transformation approach borrowed from Euler's equations wouldn't work, as it would lead to a microscopic gap in the conservation of momentum.

Chen Zhuo closed his notebook, put it in his bag, and stood up.

"Senior, I'm going back to the dorm now."

Chen Zhuo passed by Zhang Yuan's workstation and greeted him.

Zhang Yuan was slumped over the table, staring blankly at the blue screen of the monitor. When he heard the sound, he just waved his hand weakly.

"Go back now, drive carefully."

As I stepped out of the physics building, it was already dark outside.

The streetlights on campus lit up one by one, casting long and short shadows.

Chen Zhuo didn't go straight back to the dormitory, but instead went to the cafeteria and bought two boxed meals.

When I returned to dormitory 215, Wang Dayong was sitting downstairs, listening to an English tape on a Walkman.

Hearing the door open, Wang Dayong took off his headphones and turned around, his eyes immediately fixed on the plastic bag in Chen Zhuo's hand.

"Xiao Zhuo, you're finally back! I'm starving!"

Wang Dayong quickly stood up, accepted a boxed lunch without hesitation, opened the lid, and took a deep breath.

"You're so loyal! By the way, how's your key lab doing today? Are the computers still burning out?"

Chen Zhuo placed his portion of food on the table and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"No fever today."

Chen Zhuo broke apart the disposable chopsticks.

"Oh, it's fixed?"

Wang Dayong asked indistinctly while shoveling rice into his mouth.

"It's not fixed."

Chen Zhuo picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewed it slowly, swallowed it, and then continued speaking.

"Today they borrowed a large industrial fan used in the cafeteria kitchen and blew it wildly at the open computer case. The computer didn't burn out, but the wind was so strong that it almost pulled out the ribbon cable on the motherboard, and then it crashed with a blue screen."

Wang Dayong almost spat out the mouthful of rice he had just put in his mouth. He coughed and pointed at Chen Zhuo.

"No, your computer crashed, how come you're acting like nothing happened?"

Chen Zhuo smiled, lowered his head to eat, and didn't respond to the question.

The dormitory fell silent.

Chen Zhuo washed his hands and sat back down at his desk. He turned on the desk lamp, and the dim yellow light shone on the dark blue notebook.

He uncapped his pen and continued his derivation from the daytime.

Since the Euler equation approach wasn't working, he had to try a different method. He mentally reviewed the wind tunnel test models of the German ICE train that Su Wei had found a few days ago.

Suddenly, his pen stopped on the paper.

In the German paper, a nonlinear compensation term was used when dealing with irregular tunnel walls.

If we reverse this compensation term and embed it into our own Jacobian matrix, can we forcefully tighten the divergence error?

Chen Zhuo's eyes lit up slightly.

He immediately lowered his head, and the pen tip began to move quickly across the page again.

Lines of complex algebraic expressions unfolded on the blank paper. He didn't need a computer; his brain was a precisely functioning logical machine.

Time passes little by little.

The chirping of cicadas outside the window gradually subsided, and a few coughs occasionally drifted from the depths of the dormitory corridor.

Wang Dayong had already gone to bed and was breathing evenly.

Chen Zhuo was still sitting under that small table lamp.

Around 2 a.m., Chen Zhuo wrote down the last line of matrix transformation results on a piece of paper.

He substituted the initial conditions and silently went through the convergence limit in his mind.

Seventeen out of ten thousand.

It is far below two per thousand.

Energy is perfectly conserved at both ends after being severed.

Chen Zhuo put down his pen, looked at the matrix logic on the paper—which, although it looked somewhat rigid and lacked the beauty of physics, was mathematically indestructible—and let out a long sigh.

He capped the pen, making a soft click.

finished.

Tomorrow is Friday.

As is customary for the Taoist priests, the weekly routine group meeting will be held this afternoon.

The afternoon of the second day, the weather in Huizhou was so hot and humid that it was hard to breathe. A thick layer of cumulonimbus clouds pressed down in the sky, and there was not a breath of wind.

The atmosphere in the conference room on the third floor of the physics building was even more somber than the weather outside.

This is the third group meeting.

There are only three days left before the deadline for submitting the mid-term review report.

The sorcerer sat at the head of the long conference table.

He looked several years older than last week, with droopy eyes and a deep wrinkle between his brows that looked as if it had been carved with a knife.

The ashtray in front of us was overflowing with cigarette butts, and the conference room was filled with a suffocating smell of nicotine.

No one speaks.

The entire research group sat on both sides of the long table, looking like wilted eggplants.

Lin Fang's eyes were a little red. She looked down at the empty notebook in front of her. The boy with glasses was biting the pen barrel in frustration, almost crushing the plastic pen.

Zhang Yuan stood in front of the blackboard, holding half a piece of chalk in his hand.

The partial differential equations on the blackboard are still there, but the originally neat handwriting is now a mess of alterations and scribblings, like unhealable scars.

"There's no hope."

Zhang Yuan turned around, his voice hoarse.

He has slept less than ten hours in total over the past few days, and he looks completely exhausted.

"Professor Fang, we've tried every method we could: mesh partitioning, boundary fine-tuning, and even forcibly removing higher-order terms from the equations."

Zhang Yuan let his hand fall limply, the chalk dropping to the ground and rolling into a corner.

"The laws of physics are like a wall of cast iron."

Zhang Yuan looked at the sorcerer with a face full of bitterness and helplessness.

"As long as we persist in simulating that 0.01-second microscopic continuity, existing microcomputer hardware will absolutely not be able to overcome it. That is the upper limit of computing power, which cannot be pushed by human power."

The meeting room was eerily quiet.

This is the cruelest moment.

It's not because they're lazy, nor because they lack knowledge.

They were a group of the nation's top fluid mechanics researchers, but they were held back by a few outdated machines, watching helplessly as a key national project slid into the abyss under their own hands.

The sorcerer reached out and pulled another cigarette from the cigarette box.

He took out a lighter and tried to light it after two attempts.

He took a deep breath, and the smoke slowly dissipated in the murky air of the conference room.

"Don't try it."

The sorcerer's voice sounded old and weary.

Upon hearing this, Zhang Yuan's body stiffened abruptly, and Lin Fang lowered her head even further, a tear falling onto the blank notebook.

Everyone knows what these two words mean.

"There's no time."

The sorcerer leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on a single point in the void, not on anyone else.

"What the higher-ups want to see is the result, not our crash report."

The sorcerer turned his head and looked at Zhang Yuan.

"Zhang Yuan, let's abandon the peak value of the micro-shock wave."

The sorcerer's tone revealed a deep sense of helplessness and compromise.

"Force the grid parameters to be increased, skip the most intense 0.01 seconds, directly take the stable data before and after entering the cave, and draw a smooth transition curve in the middle."

Zhang Yuan's eyes instantly turned red. He took a step forward, his voice trembling slightly.

"Professor Fang! That's fabrication! That curve doesn't exist in physics at all! We've dedicated our lives to rigorous academic research, and now we're submitting routine data with serious errors. If something goes wrong later, our entire research group will be nailed to the pillar of shame!"

"I said, increase the parameters."

The sorcerer emphasized his words, interrupting Zhang Yuan's excitement, and slammed the cigarette butt into the ashtray.

"I accept the humiliation! I'll take the criticism! Submitting a report with some errors is better than handing in a blank paper and telling the higher-ups we haven't done anything!"

The sorcerer closed his eyes, concealing the pain in them.

"Do as I say. Go and modify the underlying code immediately after the meeting. We must get the data running today."

The meeting room was deathly silent.

This was tantamount to a public academic execution for everyone present.

Zhang Yuan closed his eyes in pain, gripping the edge of the podium tightly with both hands until his knuckles turned white.

In this suffocating silence.

Chen Zhuo, who was sitting at the very end of the long table, put down his pen.

For the past half hour, he had been sitting quietly in the corner, neither listening to Zhang Yuan's desperate report nor looking at the sorcerer's painful struggle.

He simply copied the last two lines of convergence verification formulas that he had derived in his dormitory the night before into that hardcover notebook.

He carefully checked the parameters on both sides of the equals sign one last time.

Confirmed.

The error was stuck at 17 ten-thousandths.

Chen Zhuo picked up the black ballpoint pen that had used up three refills and slowly put the cap back on.

"Click".

In the deathly silent conference room, the soft sound was exceptionally clear.

Followed by.

"Sizzle—"

A crisp sound of paper being torn rang out.

Zhang Yuan paused for a moment, then turned his head with red eyes. Lin Fang also looked up, her face streaked with tears. Even the sorcerer in the main seat frowned and turned his gaze to the end of the long table.

All eyes were focused on Chen Zhuo.

He gently pushed the page of draft paper, which he had just torn off and was filled with discrete algebra matrices, forward along the smooth surface of the long conference table.

The paper slid more than a meter away and came to rest right next to Zhang Yuan's hand.

Chen Zhuo raised his head and looked at Zhang Yuan with a calm gaze.

His tone was as gentle and sincere as ever, just like when we first met.

He was like someone who had just finished solving a rather complicated advanced mathematics problem in the study room and was now showing the answer to the student next to him.

"Senior brother."

Chen Zhuo looked at Zhang Yuan, his voice calm and indifferent.

"Since the microcomputer simply can't handle that continuity equation, forcibly omitting it would produce such a large error."

Chen Zhuo pointed to the piece of paper.

"I've been trying to cut it off using algebraic matrices these past few days."

The conference room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Chen Zhuo spoke slowly and enunciated very clearly.

"I created a discrete matrix black box and packaged that 0.01-second microscopic process into it. I have verified it several times. As long as the energy states at the beginning and end are properly constrained, the error will not exceed two-thousandths."

Chen Zhuo leaned back slightly in his chair, a hint of relief on his face as he finished the problem.

"We just finished the final convergence verification. Take a look at this logic; can you fit it into your underlying program and run it?"

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