211: Chapter 211 The First Fire

Early the next morning, before the sky was fully bright, Lu Li was picked up by a black official car with a special pass.

The car drove extremely steadily, passing through several checkpoints. The traffic on the road grew thinner and thinner, until finally, even the mobile phone signal seemed to have been silently severed by something.

Lu Li leaned back in the rear seat, eyes half-closed, looking as if he hadn't fully woken up.

The person accompanying him in the front seat, however, even lightened their breathing.

Because everyone knew that today's trip was not just a simple "go and take a look."

It was to ignite.

In the truest sense, to light the first spark for an era.

The car stopped in front of a massive complex of white buildings.

The wind outside was cold, the sky a dull grayish-white. In the distance, rows of security lines were laid out in silence, with patrol personnel and intelligent recognition equipment intermingled, giving the entire area a sense of extremely restrained oppression.

Lu Li stepped out of the car, looked up at the main laboratory building in the distance, and rubbed his neck.

"You arrived earlier than I expected."

The accompanying staff member gave a wry smile.

"The people inside basically didn't sleep at all last night."

Lu Li gave a grunt of acknowledgment, said nothing more, and stepped inside.

Upon entering the main control hall, what hit him wasn't noise, but a silence stretched to its absolute limit.

The hall was vast, surrounded by screens and streams of real-time parameters.

A group of the nation's top nuclear physics experts, engineers, and researchers were already in position. The older ones had gray hair, while the younger ones had dark circles under their eyes, clearly from pulling an all-nighter.

And when these people saw Lu Li walk in, their first reaction was almost unanimously the same—

Young. Too young.

Many of them had actually heard Lu Li's name long ago.

From Guanghui Technology to the military parade, and then to his role as a national-level consultant, this name was now not just something "heard of" in the top domestic scientific research circles, but was thunderous to the ears.

But seeing him in person, there was still a sense of unreality.

Because he really didn't look like the type of person who could make the final call on humanity's ultimate energy spark.

He was even dressed very casually.

He looked languid and relaxed, as if he had been dragged here from home at the last minute.

The Institute Director personally came over to greet him.

He was a man in his sixties, his hair mostly white, but his spirit was incredibly tough, and his eyes were still startlingly bright after staying up all night.

"Consultant Lu."

Lu Li nodded. "Let's see the results first."

The Institute Director didn't waste any words, simply raising his hand to signal. "The first round of official ignition begins in five minutes."

After those words, the nerves of everyone in the hall tightened another notch.

Lu Li stood before the main screen, his gaze sweeping calmly over the prepared parameters that had already reached operating temperature. With his hands in his pockets, his expression was so calm that it didn't look like he was here to witness history, but rather to grade an assignment that had barely passed.

Soon, the countdown began. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Ignition."

As the command was given, the air in the entire control hall seemed to be suddenly pulled taut by something.

On the main screen, the curves representing the confinement field and reaction state lit up simultaneously, and dense streams of data began to refresh frantically.

Everyone stared at the screen. No one spoke. At first, it was tension. Then, it was anticipation that held one's breath in a death grip.

Thirty seconds. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Time ticked upward, and the duration displayed on the screen kept refreshing.

Some gripped their pens tightly, some pressed their lips into a thin line, and some even blinked less frequently.

When the time broke through one thousand seconds, some people in the control hall began to have bright eyes. "It's stable…" "The confinement field is still stable…" "The energy recovery fluctuation is under control!"

Finally, under everyone's gaze, the number stopped at—1630 seconds. The next second, the reaction collapsed. The curve plummeted.

The control hall was eerily quiet for a moment, and then, long-suppressed breathing, low sighs, and incredulous murmurs erupted almost simultaneously.

"1630 seconds…" "It's already broken all previous records." "This result is amazing enough to release." "It's a pity… it's still a bit off." "Yeah, it's still a long way from actual commercial application."

Some were so excited their faces turned red. Others were clearly filled with regret. Because everyone knew this was no ordinary experimental project. 1630 seconds was amazing enough. But amazing didn't equal changing the world. To truly bring Nuclear Fusion from the laboratory to reality, to power generation, to commercial use, to cities and industries, this amount of time was far from enough.

Lu Li hadn't spoken from start to finish. It wasn't until all the parameters were stabilized and archived, and the first round of results confirmed, that he spoke slowly: "The coil reservation was made too narrow."

The hall went quieter. Several gazes turned toward him at once.

Lu Li lifted his chin, signaling for the main screen to switch to the local structural diagram. "Here, the compensation space for the magnetic field confinement is insufficient. You can't tell in the first half, but after a thousand seconds, it starts eating itself."

Someone frowned and spoke instinctively. "But we've already built in redundancy here…"

"That's not called redundancy." Lu Li interrupted directly, his tone flat. "That's called barely fitting it in."

The man was choked for words. Without even pausing, Lu Li pointed to the next spot. "The redundancy for the energy recovery interface is also insufficient. The switching window is too rigid, and the heat exchange scheduling rhythm can't keep up." "And these material compensation parameters don't match the operating window at all." "Who set these?"

The person pointed out was a doctor in his early thirties, whose expression suddenly stiffened. "We derived this set of parameters based on the previous round's model…"

"Then that just means you derived the previous round wrong, too."

The tone was excessively flat, yet it made the entire hall go quiet.

A few young researchers exchanged glances, clearly unconvinced. 1630 seconds was already outrageous. In their view, the details Lu Li mentioned were certainly related to the experimental duration, but they might not constitute a decisive influence. Not to mention, he said those words too easily. So easily, it was as if he were tweaking the backend of some small game, rather than modifying the core parameters of the first Nuclear Fusion test site.

Finally, a young genius couldn't help but speak up in a low voice: "Consultant Lu, we have evaluated all the points you mentioned before… but surely they don't have such a decisive relationship with the maintenance time, right?"

As soon as these words came out, the atmosphere became a bit subtle. Lu Li looked up at him. "And that's why you've achieved 1630 seconds."

The young man froze. Lu Li couldn't be bothered to engage in a debate with him and simply pushed the blueprints forward. "Just make the changes accordingly."

The sentence was so simple it was almost dismissive. Yet, the sense of inevitability that seeped through this dismissiveness only made people feel more suffocated.

For a moment, no one in the control hall responded. The atmosphere instantly became a bit stiff.

Just then, the Institute Director suddenly spoke up. "Make the changes as Consultant Lu said."

His voice wasn't loud, but it was extremely steady. Everyone in the hall looked at him instinctively.

The old Institute Director looked up, glanced at the few young people who were still showing confusion and reluctance, and his tone remained calm. "His name does not need to be verified a second time here."

With that sentence, all noise was instantly suppressed. No one spoke again. Because this was no longer about giving face, nor was it mere politeness. This was the entire institute putting its reputation on the line to endorse Lu Li.

Lu Li's expression didn't change at all; he just continued pointing things out. "Make this part bigger." "Shift this adjustment window back." "Recalculate the material compensation, don't be lazy, rerun the model." "And the cooling side, your current rhythm is too conservative. If you're afraid of making mistakes, you'll never be able to move forward."

He spoke quickly. And in fragments. Yet, everyone began to take notes seriously.

Because at this moment, no one dared to dismiss these words as "the arrogance of a young man." On the contrary, the more they listened, the more it felt like someone had pulled away the fog for them.

It was like a piece of precision machinery that was barely running, when someone who truly understood it arrived, pointed out all the critical bottlenecks with a wave of his hand.

For two whole hours, the control hall remained in a state of extreme efficiency and extreme tension. Blueprints were being modified. Parameters were being recalculated. Material compensation was being remodeled. Scheduling rhythms were being overturned and reorganized over and over again.

No one doubted him anymore. Because every strike Lu Li made hit exactly the right spot.

By the end, even the young doctor who had initially raised questions was working with his head down, not daring to ask another word.

By the time all modifications were complete, the sky was already turning dark. No one in the control hall complained of fatigue. No one even wanted to rest. Because everyone knew the real answer lay in the next round.

Lu Li pushed back the last page of parameters, raised his hand to press his temples, his voice still languid. "Alright. Prepare for the second round."

The hall went even quieter. Everyone returned to their respective positions. Everyone stared at that main screen again. The air seemed to be pulled taut once more. This time, no one dared to blink.