Chapter 48 Can you foresee even this?

Pokrovsky’s thoughts drifted to Bangalore in India. Compared to him, his counterparts over there had it much easier.

Back in 1957, they had allowed the Indians to assemble and manufacture MiG-17s themselves, with an agreement that within the next three years, 50% of the components would be manufactured domestically in India.

As a result, the Indian side failed to accomplish even the most basic assembly. Out of the 36 MiG-17s assembled locally in India, 27 suffered from duct vibration defects. Three years had passed, and the domestic component production rate was not even 10%.

Pokrovsky’s colleagues in Bangalore were already preparing to fleece those fellows from the subcontinent mercilessly. If you cannot build it yourself, you surely cannot blame me, can you? My spare parts are very expensive after all.

The reason Pokrovsky had stayed in China until today was driven by a similar purpose, waiting for the Chinese side to find themselves at an impasse and come begging to them, so that he could then, acting on orders from Moscow, either raise new demands or thoroughly humiliate his Chinese counterparts.

He just hadn’t expected that the one being humiliated would be himself. Pokrovsky felt that his Chinese counterparts were being a bit too polite; if he were in their shoes, he definitely would have cursed much more viciously.

In Beijing, the weather at the end of July was somewhat scorching. The Science and Technology Commission at the foot of the Western Hills had already received the report from the frontline in Harbin.

A man in a white shirt who had rushed over overnight clapped repeatedly:

"Good, good! We must issue a thorough commendation internally for President Qian and the Fifth Academy. Furthermore, make sure this good news reaches everyone who needs to be notified.

We have our own ballistic missiles in China! Excellent! Simply wonderful!

In addition, call President Qian back to attend a meeting; there are many matters we still need to communicate about.

Director Wan, please help me make a note. First, organize a panel of experts to discuss the practicality of the DF-1. We must confirm this as soon as possible, and once confirmed, organize for mass production immediately.

Second, after mass production, which regions should be equipped with it, and how should related training proceed?

Third, President Qian wrote in the telegram that this technology is world-leading. If the Soviet Russians covet it and we decide to sell it, what should we demand in exchange?

These are the main three points. Arrange them as soon as possible."

For the national defense industry at this time, the DF-1 was truly like timely rain after a long drought—at the very least, it could preserve some personnel, safeguard certain teams, and protect parts of the industrial base.

Once deployed to the frontline, several industrial supporting factories could also be saved.

......

Regarding the fact that the accuracy of the DF-1 ballistic missile had reached a world-class level, President Qian, after a brief surge of excitement, calmed down aboard the special plane returning to Beijing. Instead, he felt that a blessing in disguise might not necessarily be a good thing after all, viewed from another angle.

Because this technological breakthrough proved China's capability for self-reliance, easing security anxieties might conversely create resistance against academic openness.

A technological breakthrough could be achieved without academic openness, which meant the motivation for academic openness would be lost.

He certainly could not attribute all the credit to the Monte Carlo method and calculus of variations provided by Lin Ran.

Throughout the flight, President Qian kept pondering how to promote the loosening of restrictions on academic exchanges.

At a time when Soviet experts were completely withdrawing, academic openness appeared particularly crucial.

Arriving at his office the next day as usual, President Qian asked, "Secretary Zhang, where is the latest issue of the *International Science Digest*?"

No matter how he searched his desk, he could not find it. Usually, it would be translated into Chinese by the middle of each month and placed on his desk.

Zhang Kewen walked into the office and said in a low voice, "President Qian, I hadn't had a chance to tell you yet. Comrades from the Science and Technology Commission have already come to notify us that the Soviet Union has halted the supply of the *International Science Digest*.

This includes the *Reports of the Academy of Sciences of the Soviet Union* and the *Proceedings of the Academy of Sciences of the Soviet Union*, all of which have ceased delivery completely.

The Science and Technology Commission told us not to worry for now; comrades in Moscow are trying to figure out if some can still be shipped back."

President Qian slammed his fist heavily on the desk, cursing, "Damn Russians!"

Heading to the Western Hills for a meeting in the afternoon, President Qian's mind was entirely occupied with how to secure support from the Director of the Science and Technology Commission during their private conversation later.

However, once only the two of them remained in the conference room, the other man waved his hand, signaling the secretary to step outside and guard the door to prevent anyone else from entering.

Then, he pulled a document from his drawer and handed it to President Qian: "Old Qian, take a look."

All the praises that needed to be said had already been spoken during the meeting.

Now that only the two of them were left, the man wanted to discuss substantive matters with President Qian.

After reading it, President Qian felt as though he was having a remote dialogue with Lin Ran far away in Hong Kong; everything the other man said aligned precisely with what he was thinking—in the end, China had to rely on itself.

"Well said."

The middle-aged man waved his hand again, then produced another sheet of paper: "This is a song the other party published in Hong Kong not long ago. You can have a look."

President Qian took it and glanced at it. Just seeing the title *Sitting on the Fence* caused his expression to shift drastically. After reading the entire text, he hurriedly explained, "Since Professor Lin was willing to teach us the Monte Carlo method, he could never remain a spectator.

In my view, this is a posture he deliberately assumed to dispel any suspicion against himself."

The middle-aged man nodded: "Of course, I know that.

Just the technical data he transmitted to us—if we were to proactively expose it to the Americans, Lin would find himself in endless trouble.

I am well aware of his goodwill toward us, but this song has caused a very negative impact in Beijing. Coupled with the current political climate, Lin can only exist in internal documents under the guise of a classified project.

In public occasions, we need to downplay his influence as much as possible.

Furthermore, thanks to the success of the DF-1, even though the team led by Hua Loo-keng has yet to crack the Monte Carlo method from the three papers Lin Ran mentioned, I have managed to secure unprecedented conditions for everyone."

A glimmer of anticipation appeared in President Qian's eyes: "What conditions?"

"Professor Lin currently holds the internal codename Fermat, belonging to a long-term project with the highest level of confidentiality.

For a long time to come, Professor Hua Loo-keng will remain stationed in Guangzhou to assemble a team. A portion of our foreign exchange reserves will be used to import academic journals from Hong Kong, translate them, and transmit them back to Beijing to bridge the gap left by the suspension of Soviet academic journals.

Once the materials arrive in Beijing, under the pretext of confidentiality, they will be provided only to a select few scientists, which will also prevent unnecessary trouble."

The middle-aged man had certainly not been idle during this period.

If the political climate in Beijing was unfavorable, then they would move it to Guangzhou.

If maintaining academic exchanges with the West was impossible, then they would package it as a classified project, framing it as the decryption of intelligence related to a secret initiative.

Since the very beginning of his return to China, President Qian had privately raised the question of whether they could import Western academic journals, or find ways to import them through overseas Chinese.

The timely cutoff of supplies by the Soviet Union had provided him with the best possible excuse.

He had kept this matter close to his heart, and now he had finally found a suitable reason and a proper opportunity.

Lin Ran never expected that his intention to preserve a spark of hope would be realized in such a manner.

Meanwhile, upon hearing this, President Qian felt a chill run through his heart, believing that Lin Ran’s calculations had been infallible—that even without returning, he could still leave a channel open for academic exchanges between China and the West in this precise manner.