Chapter Sixty: Minor Adjustments

“Yes, what I mean is that the cause of the accident must be related to the different rotational speeds of the two shafts,” Long Derong stated his deduction, attributing the root of the incident to the twin main shafts.

Shafts, then? Hearing this, the group that had been about to collapse onto the table drew their heads even closer, inspecting every minute detail of the entire connection around the main shafts.

Once everyone had observed enough, Yang Hui gathered the team again, directing them to follow Long Derong’s line of thought and consider what might have led to the accident.

“Just now, Comrade Long Derong shared his idea, and everyone has carefully examined the accident shaft. Let’s speak freely now—share your thoughts.”

Barely had Yang Hui finished speaking when Xie Lianfa impatiently voiced his hypothesis. He had just stumbled upon a possibility, which seemed increasingly plausible the more he pondered it. Now, he was eager to lay it before everyone for discussion.

“We mentioned earlier that the difference is reflected in the data from the two main shafts. There are many points of divergence, but I’ve ruled them all out, leaving one major possibility: rotational speed.”

He picked up a pen and wrote “different rotational speeds” on the white paper atop the table, then slowly wrote “high-temperature melting,” before tossing the pen down with flair.

Seeing these six crucial words, a sense of sudden clarity settled over the group.

“You mean that the bearing, rotating at high speed, rubs against the rubber gasket, generating heat, causing the rubber to melt and ultimately burn out?” Yang Hui was the first to articulate the meaning behind the six words.

Once Yang Hui voiced what Xie Lianfa meant, Xie continued to elaborate.

“Exactly. Because during the startup phase, the rotational speeds of the two shafts differ, especially later on, the rubber around the turbojet’s main shaft suffers more severe damage.”

Following this reasoning, it suddenly made sense why the two rubber rings were damaged to different extents. Yet, Long Derong—the designer of the entire startup system—immediately recognized that this explanation didn’t hold. In his design, the two main shafts couldn’t possibly rub against the rubber gaskets. The rubber rings were fitted onto the shafts thanks to their own resilience, but the shafts themselves didn’t rotate against the rubber surfaces.

Unless... unless the shaft slipped, and the frictional force between the bearing and the rubber ring was less than the force the motor was trying to transmit to the gasket. But this seemed impossible.

“This idea doesn’t hold up. According to this reasoning, the only explanation would be that the frictional resistance between the shaft and the rubber ring is less than the force the motor needs to transmit to the gasket. But that doesn’t explain the fact that we successfully started the turbojet—the force was clearly transmitted to the turbojet shaft.”

Upon hearing this, Yang Hui recalled a small detail from a previous test: it had taken a notably long time for the turbojet’s shaft to reach full speed. But at the time, no one had paid much attention. As long as the motor turned the shaft, a slight delay was expected—chalked up to the new engine not yet broken in, with some parts offering greater resistance, making the motor work harder.

Yet this small detail now appeared to be a key to solving the puzzle. Yang Hui voiced his new thought.

“Not necessarily. I noticed a minor detail: the time it took for the turbojet to reach its designed speed was much longer than expected.”

He picked up the accident shaft from the table, pointing to it as he explained, “This means the motor’s output power wasn’t fully transmitted to the turbojet shaft. So where did the remaining power go?”

He paused to give everyone a moment for thought, but seeing they were still at a loss, Yang Hui pressed on. “Let me propose a bold hypothesis: in fact, the frictional resistance between the motor shaft and the rubber ring was right at a critical threshold. If it exceeded this threshold, all the power would be transmitted; if not, the shaft would slip, and the force wouldn’t reach the turbojet shaft. If it was exactly at that threshold, only part of the force would be transmitted, and the rest lost between the motor shaft and the rubber ring.”

At last, the group’s collective understanding snapped into place. Long Derong stood and slapped his thigh, excitedly voicing his realization.

“Group Leader Yang means we’re exactly at that threshold, right?”

Yang Hui’s explanation was clear enough that everyone else caught on. Zhong Jian chimed in with agreement: “Yes, that must be the reason.”

Now, they finally had a plausible cause—though untested, it was a promising lead. There was reason to be pleased. Yang Hui, seeing everyone understood, felt gratified. He stretched out his hands, clapping slowly, nodding with a smile that radiated delight. The scene was comical; if the North Korean Kim III saw it decades later, he’d surely sue for copyright infringement.

“For a cause like this, there’s no need for more tests. Just tweak the design a little, and we can run another trial.”

There were many simple ways to increase frictional resistance. To do so was easy: a few strokes on the blueprint would suffice, without even needing a redraw.

At that moment, though the team could suggest several design modifications, no one spoke up. Everyone glanced at each other, and Long Derong was moved. This was a real team; they were thinking of him, hoping he, as the designer, would personally make the adjustment.

“Thank you, everyone.”

Long Derong held back his emotions, quietly opened the blueprints, and with his drafting ruler, marked a very low roughness requirement at the junction of the two shafts and the rubber gaskets.

Indeed, the fix was that simple: just lower the roughness at the interface, and the problem would be solved. Increasing the roughness directly boosted frictional resistance—a straightforward solution.

With the problem nearly resolved, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. All that remained was to visit a factory the next day, have the bearing roughness adjusted, and run another trial.

After a night of intense effort, once the issue was identified, overwhelming fatigue set in. Sleepiness swept over them.

Seeing that dawn was near, Yang Hui announced the meeting’s end. He was done in—he needed to sleep right there at the table, exhausted from the night’s mental strain.

Yang Hui immediately laid his head on the table and began to sleep. With him leading the way, the others followed suit, collapsing at their stations rather than returning to their dorms—after all, this was overtime, and no one dared leave the group.

Thus, the office was filled with six or eight young men sleeping soundly, until Yang Yue entered and saw the scene.

Yang Yue knew Yang Hui had been working all night, so she went to the cafeteria early and brought six portions of food to the office. The man in charge here was her future husband, along with his founding team. It was time for her to show them some care.

She gently set the food down, walked behind the slumbering Yang Hui, and softly tapped him awake.

“Get up, everyone’s coming to work soon.”

Yang Hui, groggy, heard someone calling and slowly opened his eyes, seeing a stunning face. Thinking he was dreaming, he quickly buried his head to sleep again.

Seeing him wake for only a few seconds before drifting off, Yang Yue steeled herself and kneaded his face hard. At last, he fully awoke.

“Oh, Yueyue, you’re up so early?”

“Yes, I knew you’d be working overnight, so I brought food for all six of you. Go wake your comrades.”

Pushing Yang Hui out of bed, Yang Yue sat in his chair, watching as he roused the others.

“Bang, bang, bang,” Yang Hui pounded the table, loud enough to wake even the deepest sleepers—unless they were truly gone.

“Wake up, food’s here, hurry up.”

Simple and crude, but effective. The still sleepy group rushed outside to splash cold water on their faces, instantly awake.

When they returned to the office, Yang Hui was already eating. Yang Yue greeted them.

“Come on, the food’s all here—six portions, brought early just for you. Remember to pay me back with meal tickets.”

Hearing there was food, they were delighted, realizing the benefits of having a girlfriend. These young men were beginning to ponder relationships, but in this base, it was hard—few women made it to university, and those who did were rarely assigned to aerospace, much less to the remote mountains of the southwest. Even if there were some, the assignment process would take care to avoid sending them here.

So it was, in a sense, a sacrifice of youth.