Scholar’s Advanced Technological System

Jinling began to start snowing in February. It was almost Chinese New Year.

Lu Zhou spent the past couple of days basically living in the laboratory.

Even though he bought a house, he barely went there; it was a bit unfortunate.

However, thankfully a few days before Chinese New Year, his research task at hand was finally completed. This made him sigh in relief.

Actually, he didn’t have to complete these tasks before Chinese New Year.

However, being able to produce these results would add some credibility for his Germany trip.

In any case, in order to continue research, he needed a stellarator.

Lu Zhou wrote a politely worded email and sent it to Professor Keriber, who was far away from Germany. He then put on his coat and left the research institute.

When he walked out of the research institute, he took a deep breath of the fresh air outside before going back. He then went around to the STAR stellarator research institute.

The freezing cold didn’t kill the workers’ enthusiasm. Just like when the project started, the construction site was buzzing with activity.

Lu Zhou could see the changes every time he went to this place.

With ten times the manpower and resources, the progress of the project was measured in days. The progress speed was visible to the naked eye.

Regiment Commander Dai happened to be patrolling on the site. When he noticed Lu Zhou getting out of his car, he walked over. He smiled and greeted him.

“What brings you here?”

Lu Zhou: “This place is on the way home, so I decided to see what’s happening here. It’s almost Chinese New Year. Thank you for all of your guys’ hard work.”

Regiment Commander Dai said nonchalantly, “No worries; this isn’t hard work at all.”

They wouldn’t stop working until the project was completed.

They didn’t plan on spending Chinese New Year anywhere else other than on the construction site.

Regiment Commander Dai made some small talk with Lu Zhou. He then looked at the research institute that was under construction nearby and squinted. He then asked, “Hypothetically, if our country uses controllable nuclear fusion energy, how much money can we save on energy per year?”

“I didn’t win a Nobel Prize in economics, so I’m afraid I can’t give you an accurate number.”

Lu Zhou paused for a second before he continued, “However, one thing I am certain about is that, when that day comes, our country’s electrical industry will grow by leaps and bounds.”

Even though Lu Zhou hadn’t studied economics before, his intuition told him that this wasn’t something that could be measured by money.

Regiment Commander Dai: “Leaps and bounds? Like back when the economic reform was happening?”

Lu Zhou joked, “Hard to tell. It might even become an industrial revolution.”

Industrial revolution…

This sounds like something that is far far away.

This has only happened three times in history.

As Regiment Commander Dai looked at the building nearby, he couldn’t help but look forward to that day.

…

The snow in Jinling came by quickly but also left quickly.

Most cities in Northern Europe were still covered by a blanket of snow.

Keriber was checking his work email at the Wendelstein 7-X laboratory, which was located in the quiet town of Greifswald, near the corner of the Baltic sea.

He was about to finish reading all of the previously unread emails when suddenly, he received another email.

When Keriber clicked on the email and saw the sender’s name, he paused for a second.

Lu Zhou?

When Keriber saw the name, he quickly composed himself. He then looked at the body of the email and began reading.

[Hello, Professor Keriber.

[The Chinese New Year is in a few days, and in an auspicious time like this, I’d like to sincerely wish you good health and good luck.

[Also, I have a piece of good news which I’m sure you will be interested in…]

Upon reading that last sentence, Keriber raised an eyebrow. He looked interested to continue reading the email.

If this was anyone else, he wouldn’t have believed them.

However, this was from Lu Zhou. Even though Keriber didn’t know what to expect, he was still excited to continue reading.

[… In order to solve the insufficient magnetic field strength problem, we have tried many solutions. In the end, we have succeeded in a carbon-based superconducting material.

[As you know, among the many engineering problems that restrict the increase of electromagnetic field strength, the most important one is the difficulty in expanding the coil magnitude while ensuring the copper oxide conductor is at its superconducting transition temperature. After all, whether it is the copper oxide or the liquid helium transporting channel, the superconducting magnet occupies quite a large area.

[We tried many solutions to solve this problem. The most important factor was to increase the superconductivity transition temperature of the material to as close as room temperature as possible. This can reduce the cooling device volume.

[Actually, we’ve achieved decent results using this experimental pathway. However, we unexpectedly found that, in order to solve this problem, we don’t necessarily have to start with the temperature.

[For the case of copper oxide materials, in order to maintain the copper oxide conductor at its superconducting transition temperature, one of the most difficult problems to overcome is the poor thermal conductivity of copper oxide. It’s not easy to deal with.

[Graphene, also a superconducting material, has superior properties in both heat dissipation and heat conductivity. In theory, it reaches a thermal conductivity of 5300W/mk.

[You’re an engineer, you should know what this means.]

This was a serious email, but when Keriber read to this part, he smiled and shook his head.

He obviously knew what that meant. Even if the SG-1 thermal conductivity wasn’t as high as 5300W/mk, any thermal conductivity in the range of thousands would destroy copper oxide.

Even pure copper only had a thermal conductivity of 401W/mk.

What did this mean?

In engineering terms, if the difficulty of keeping copper oxide at its superconductivity transition temperature was at 10, then the engineering difficulty of keeping graphene at its superconductivity transition temperature was only at 1 or even lesser.

In fact, in some electrical cables or electronic devices, graphene was used as a higher grade heat sink than even graphite.

However, the problem was that the SG-1 superconducting properties appeared on a two-dimensional plane with an overlapping angle of the planes. How could one convert an SG-1 material into a wire?

It wasn’t as easy as just layering the planes together.

Keriber had no idea how to convert that thing into electrical wires.

Not to mention the enormous costs it would require…

However, he suddenly froze.

Because at the end of the email, Lu Zhou mentioned something else.

[… Actually, we’ve already successfully found a suitable method. Even though it might not look reliable, we have already created a half a meter long electrical wire from graphene.]

Keriber jumped up from his chair.

His assistant noticed him and asked, “What’s happening, Professor?”

“Nothing,” Keriber said. He then grabbed the chair armrests firmly before he hastily fixed his collar. He then looked at his assistant and ordered, “Book me a plane ticket, I have to go to Jinling.”

The assistant paused for a second.

“… Which date?”

Keriber didn’t hesitate, and he replied in a serious tone.

“Right now, as soon as possible!”