Chapter 459 Astronaut List Announced

Old Sun stood at the door of Yang Xiaobing's dormitory, clutching the list. The door was ajar, and the sound of a cotton cloth being used to wipe gun barrels could be heard from inside—slow, rhythmic rubbing. He knocked on the doorframe.

"Come in." Yang Xiaobing said without looking up.

Old Sun went in and sat down beside his bed. The bed was neatly made, the quilt with sharp edges. Yang Xiaobing disassembled the gun barrel, wrapped his index finger with cotton cloth, and inserted it into the chamber, turning it. Black gunpowder residue clung to the cotton cloth.

"The list is out." Old Sun placed the list on the bedside table.

Yang Xiaobing didn't look. "Did Tan Wei and the others go up?"

"Yes. Twelve people: six pilots, three scientists, and three engineers."

The cotton cloth was pulled out of the gun barrel, revealing a patch of black grime on it. Yang Xiaobing spread it on his knees, folded it, turned it to the clean side, and stuffed it back in.

"You're not on the list."

Yang Xiaobing paused for a moment. The cotton cloth was stuck in the chamber. He pulled it out, tearing a corner of the cloth, leaving a small piece inside. He poked at it with a cleaning rod, pushing the piece of cloth out.

"Failed in academic subjects?"

"Flight Dynamics 58. Orbital Mechanics 53."

Yang Xiaobing raised the gun barrel, glanced at the light coming through the window, and then put it down. He picked up the list from the bedside table, read it from top to bottom, folded it, and placed it under his pillow.

"The ground needs you more." When Old Sun said this, he didn't look at him, but at the leather shoes on his feet, where a piece of leather had been rubbed off the toe.

Yang Xiaobing didn't reply. He put the barrel back in, pulled the bolt back, and clicked it.

Old Sun stood up, walked to the door, and glanced back at him. Yang Xiaobing had already disassembled the gun and continued cleaning it. Old Sun opened his mouth, but didn't say anything, and turned to leave.

The low hum of a centrifuge emanated from the end of the corridor. The floor trembled slightly. Yang Xiaobing folded the torn piece of cotton cloth into a small square, placed it under the butt of his rifle, stood up, and walked towards the training ground.

The centrifuge door opened, and Tan Wei stepped out, his legs weak, needing to lean against the wall to steady himself. His face was as white as paper, and the veins on his forehead were bulging and hadn't yet subsided. The coach handed him a bottle of water, which he took but didn't open.

"How long did you last under eight times gravity?" Yang Xiaobing asked, standing next to him.

Tan Wei looked up and glanced at him. "Five minutes."

"I lasted for six minutes," Yang Xiaobing said.

Tan Wei didn't reply. He unscrewed the bottle cap, took a sip of water, and swallowed very slowly.

At the edge of the underwater training pool, Zhao Mingyuan surfaced, removed his helmet, and gasped for breath. His gloves were too thick, making his fingers unresponsive underwater; he couldn't even tighten the screws on a circuit board after three attempts. The coach approached, timing him with a stopwatch.

"You've exceeded the time limit. The allotted time is twenty minutes, but you've used thirty-five minutes."

Zhao Mingyuan didn't argue. He pulled off his gloves, his fingers white from being soaked in sweat. Yang Xiaobing squatted by the pool and helped him pick up the fallen screws.

"Engineer Zhao, what if you can't tighten the screws when you go to space?"

Zhao Mingyuan looked at him. "Then I won't go back to Earth."

Yang Xiaobing was taken aback. Zhao Mingyuan grinned, but the smile looked unnatural.

During the afternoon skydiving training, Sun Jianguo was the last to exit the aircraft. His parachute opened a few seconds late, causing him to land too quickly and step into a ditch, twisting his ankle at an unnatural angle. He fell to the ground, clutching his foot, biting his lip to keep quiet. The medical team rushed over, and Yang Xiaobing, standing nearby, saw that Sun Jianguo's ankle was swollen and the skin had turned bluish-purple.

Sun Xiuying squatted down and touched her ankle with her hand. Sun Jianguo gasped in pain.

"Torn ligament. At least a month of rest required."

Sun Jianguo closed his eyes and slammed his fist into the ground, creating a shallow crater.

He Yuzhu put down his pen when he heard the news in his office.

Who is the substitute?

Sun Xiuying flipped through the list. "Li Guoliang. Pilot, ranked seventh in physical fitness assessment. Excellent results in high-altitude psychological test."

"Let him fill in. The coach will make up for the lessons he missed. He needs to catch up within a week."

Sun Xiuying nodded, turned, and left. He Yuzhu stood up and walked to the window. On the training field, Li Guoliang was running from the dormitory building, carrying his training clothes and putting them on as he ran.

That evening, in the cafeteria, Tan Wei sat down opposite Zhao Mingyuan with his tray.

"Mr. Zhao, how did you manage to screw in the screws when installing the circuit board underwater?"

Zhao Mingyuan swallowed the rice in his mouth and said, "Make the screwdriver tip a little magnetic. Let it hold the screw, and then slowly align it."

Tan Wei picked up a piece of braised pork and chewed it a few times. "I'll try it tomorrow."

Li Guoliang sat alone in a corner with his tray. The coach came over and placed a class schedule in front of him.

"Tomorrow morning we'll have a flight dynamics review session, and in the afternoon we'll do a low-pressure cabin test. We also have underwater operations practice tonight. Can you handle it?"

Li Guoliang took a bite of his steamed bun. "I can handle it."

The coach glanced at him but didn't say anything more.

At the same moment, outside the hospital's delivery room, He Yuzhu leaned against the corridor wall, holding a thermos cup with the lid undone, the water cold.

The delivery room door opened, and Chen Zhihong rushed out, his face flushed red. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out, then opened his mouth again.

"It's a boy. He weighs 6 pounds 8 ounces."

He Yuzhu nodded. The water in the thermos sloshed around, spilling a few drops.

Qin Huairu stood up from her chair, her hands twisting together. "Can we go in and take a look?"

"Wait a minute, the nurse is cleaning up."

A dozen minutes later, He Yushui was wheeled out. Her face was pale, and her forehead was covered in wet hair. She was holding a wrinkled baby in her arms, whose eyes were not yet open, fists were clenched, and mouth was opening and closing.

He Nianhua lay down next to the stroller, resting her chin on the edge of the stroller, and stared at it for a long time.

"Auntie, what's his name?"

He Yushui looked at Chen Zhihong. Chen Zhihong took out a slip of paper from his pocket with two names written on it. "Chen Yu, Chen Xing. Which one do you think is better?"

He Nianhua stretched out his finger and waved it next to the baby's fist. The baby opened his fingers and grasped his index finger.

"His name is Chen Xing. Xing as in star." He Nianhua's voice was very soft.

He Yushui laughed, then stopped, her laughter aggravating her wound.

He Yuzhu stood at the end of the corridor, looking out the window. Not far away, the lights of the launch site were on, and the outline of the Kunlun rocket was faintly visible under the night lights, its hull suspended ten meters in the air, casting a shadow on the Gobi Desert. A countdown sign for the maiden flight hung at the entrance of the final assembly plant, painted in red: "Twenty-three days left."