For the next few days, the entire base was immersed in a joyful atmosphere, with everyone's faces beaming as if they had just brought home a new bride.
Related equipment was even working overtime. To expedite production, the construction of new warships was halted. Those few heavy-duty 3D printers worked day and night, churning out the needed equipment at the fastest possible pace.
The assorted towers and tanks, whose purposes were unclear, were simply printed according to the diagrams provided. One set of each, and no mistakes.
Four days later, the first batch of chemical engineering talents arrived at Luojianshan and were warmly welcomed by all members of the base.
What followed was a period of intense installation and debugging.
According to the chemical engineering team, these facilities were equivalent to a small workshop level if placed on Earth.
Despite their words, no one felt their talents were being wasted. After all, everyone knew where they were. It was no exaggeration to say that this batch of petrochemical equipment would usher in a new era for the moon. No amount of praise would be too much.
In less than half a month, the first phase of lunar petrochemical processing passed acceptance and was officially put into operation.
Even by the standards of the "infrastructure maniacs" world-renowned for their construction speed, this pace was astonishing, making jaws drop.
There would be more phases to come, second, third, and even more, which would eventually form a complete petrochemical industry chain from extraction to synthesis.
However, the launch of the petrochemical industry was not all good news. Byproducts like gasoline, which were in high demand on Earth, were essentially useless on the moon.
Transporting it back to Earth was both dangerous and not worthwhile. Leaving it on the moon served no real purpose. Discarding it seemed a shame. They couldn't possibly build moon vehicles specifically designed to run on gasoline, could they? And where would they get so much oxygen to waste?
There was no other way but to build a batch of underground oil tanks to store the various fuels that couldn't be used temporarily.
The result was ever-larger oil depots and ever-increasing fuel reserves. Eventually, some even suggested simply releasing it, to save the time, effort, and space it occupied.
The base was in a quandary, and so was the higher command.
The utility of this substance on Earth had always been clear; no one had ever researched its other applications. In the end, they assembled a team to study how to weaponize the excess fuel.
The simplest method was to add an oxidizer to create incendiary bombs that could be used in a vacuum. But just having the bombs wasn't enough; their purpose also needed to be defined, which stumped a large number of people.
At the same time, Ou Zhanpeng was living a very comfortable life. He spent his working hours drawing blueprints and, when idle, wandered around to tour the industrial zones.
The Luojianshan base was now divided into a research zone and an industrial zone.
The former was, naturally, located within the original mountain body. A small area was also designated for the heavy-duty 3D printers, undertaking some manufacturing tasks.
The industrial zone was hundreds of kilometers away and required taking a train through the large opening in the wall to reach.
It housed iron ore mines and a smelting plant. The oil fields and chemical plants were in another direction.
Time flew by, and three months had passed in the blink of an eye.
One day, as Ou Zhanpeng was engrossed in drawing, his personal terminal chimed. Xie Yu's voice came through: "Ou Zhanpeng, Station Chief Gong is looking for you!"
"Got it!" Ou Zhanpeng replied, stopping his work and standing up, stretching his stiff neck.
By this time, he had nearly completed the structural drawings of the broken ship. Fortunately, they didn't require extreme precision; otherwise, it would have taken him three more years, let alone three months.
He knocked on Gong Yiding's office door and politely asked, "Station Chief Gong, you sent for me."
Gong Yiding nodded and gestured to the sofa opposite him. "Sit down."
Ou Zhanpeng suddenly noticed an unusual expression on Station Chief Gong's face and asked with concern as he sat down, "What happened?"
Gong Yiding pursed his lips. "Bad news. The jump experiment failed again."
"No way?" Ou Zhanpeng exclaimed. "How many times has this been?"
"The sixth time." Gong Yiding remembered very clearly. "All control schemes have failed. The analysis suggests that we cannot master jump technology so quickly. Other problems are manageable, but the key issue is that without jump technology, your plan can only be shelved indefinitely."
Ou Zhanpeng was stunned. "Weren't they saying there was a high chance of success?"
The reason for the countdown, the objective of the alien species, the origin of the unidentified flying object – all mysteries awaited answers from the mysterious entity. But how could the planned course of events suddenly fall apart?
"We did have great hopes, but the reality proved us wrong. Without the crucial control technology, it's impossible to operate the jump device... If you have anything, now is the time to bring it forth."
Gong Yiding looked at Ou Zhanpeng with extreme seriousness, a hint of expectation in his eyes.
"If I had any leads, I would have told you already!" Ou Zhanpeng shook his head. "But I have a feeling that the control method must be very simple... Can't we try referencing the control methods of other equipment?"
"We've tried, and it's useless," Gong Yiding sighed. "We already know that the more energy we input, the further the wormhole's exit point, but we still can't find a way to control the direction!"
He had originally planned to install the equipment on a new warship after mastering jump technology. Now, with the new ship half-built, the equipment had hit a snag. Not only was the timeline for mastering the technology uncertain, but the construction of the new warship would also be affected.
Although Gong Yiding appeared outwardly calm, he was seething inwardly. The new warship was not just a warship; it was a comprehensive assessment and validation of all research at the Luojianshan base, the most direct proof of their research achievements.
"Can't we think of other ways?" Ou Zhanpeng asked persistently. "Although I don't know the ultimate purpose of the mysterious entity, I have a feeling that the final answer is very important to us."
"My judgment is the same as yours, but this isn't a matter of whether we want to or not; it's that the objective conditions don't allow it," Gong Yiding said, rubbing his temples wearily. "There are only two options now: one is to build a spacecraft with existing technology and fly there at our fastest possible speed. But it would take at least over ten years to reach the destination, and by then, jump technology should have been broken through."
Ou Zhanpeng frowned. "You mean I should continue waiting?"
"I suggest waiting," Gong Yiding stated his opinion clearly. "And I suggest you think carefully about whether it's necessary to fly over so urgently."
Ou Zhanpeng was silent for a moment. "The fact that I could obtain those blueprints must be directly related to the mysterious entity. Therefore, I have a feeling that the sooner I meet the mysterious entity, the better!"
Gong Yiding replied helplessly, "It's not that the higher-ups don't want to, nor that I don't want to, but there's simply no way."
Ou Zhanpeng furrowed his brow in thought, then suddenly blurted out, "Station Chief, if we send a communication signal to the asteroid, will it receive it?"
Gong Yiding remained silent for a while before reluctantly nodding. "Let's give it a shot, as a last resort."