I’m in 1960, and My WeChat Group Is Full of Future Academicians

In 1964, yellow sand swept across the vast Gobi Desert.

With a deafening roar, the Dragon Kingdom's first launch vehicle broke apart in midair, raining fire across the sky. Tens of thousands of researchers knelt in the sand, weeping bitterly. The base faced closure, and the great nation’s dream of spaceflight teetered on the brink of collapse.

When Qin Feng awoke, he had become the bottom-ranked technician at the base, hired through connections. Faced with a notice holding him accountable and the despairing looks of the veteran experts, he sat calmly at the drafting table and opened a group chat in his mind called "2026 National Academy of Sciences Core Team."

"Hey, experts, given the industrial conditions of 1964, how do we deal with high-frequency vibration in a rocket engine? Asking here, and it's urgent."

The group chat instantly erupted.

Academician of Materials Science: "I know this one! Add a vibration damper, and make a low-tech substitute from the manganese steel alloy available at the time!"

Academician of Propulsion: "And take this improved Dongfeng-1 blueprint and put it to use. My treat!"

When Qin Feng brought out a stack of flawless blueprints he'd drawn overnight and wrote ballistic equations sixty years ahead of their time on the blackboard with chalk, the beautiful, aloof chief designer's assistant, Su Qinghan, stared wide-eyed, her delicate figure trembling beneath her lab coat. The base commander, who had been about to discipline Qin Feng, drew a sharp breath. He didn't even notice when the enamel teacup in his hand hit his foot.

Qin Feng dusted the chalk off his hands, his gaze burning bright. "If the West shuts us out, then we'll use abacuses and hammers to smash open a road to the stars and the sea!"