Chapter 271: Rocket Launch
“Old Song, don’t look so grim. With my computational ability, even if an accident occurs, I can fly the spaceship back based on the situation at the time.
If it were someone else, that might not be the case.”
Lin Ran found Song Nanping’s expression amusing. “Only three days left. I need to adjust my mindset properly.
See you on the Moon then.”
Lin Ran’s unbeatable test performance made it hard for China Aerospace to refuse, even if they wanted to.
With the first lunar flyby test as precedent, in a sense, the risk factor for this moon landing had indeed been reduced to a level that China Aerospace deemed barely controllable.
Finally, after reporting to the person at Hengshan Hotel, the response was:
“Young people are always full of pride. If they’re not, are they even young?
I think Xiao Lin is pretty good. Has anyone else accomplished what he’s done in the past? Hasn’t every one been a miracle?
Since we’ve agreed, don’t go back on it. I believe he’ll perform another miracle.
Let him go.”
The old man waved his hand. Just as the middle-aged man who had come to ask for his opinion was about to leave, he spoke again:
“Hey, when you did the physical exam on Xiao Lin, you must have drawn blood for testing. What were the results?”
“Aside from all his physical indicators being very healthy, there were no other abnormalities. The DNA is also human DNA.”
After asking, the old man waved his hand: “Good, I understand. My point is, since his performance is unbeatable, just let him go.”
The middle-aged man left, and he heard the old man’s voice from behind:
“Past pettiness need not be boasted
Today, unrestrained thoughts know no bounds
Proud and elated, horse hooves swift
One day gazing upon all Chang’an’s flowers”
The old man was reciting “One day gazing upon all Chang’an’s flowers,” but in his heart, he was thinking, “Today the long whip is in hand; when will it bind the azure dragon?”
The middle-aged man turned and stood still. The old man waved his hand, signaling him to leave.
“Professor Lin, safe travels.” Song Nanping said expressionlessly.
Seeing that Song Nanping only said this, Lin Ran knew China Aerospace had agreed. He smiled: “Old Song, relax. We still need to cooperate to spread Apollo Technology’s footprint across the solar system. This is just the beginning.
If we’re worrying about this and that just for going to the Moon, how can we go even farther?”
Though Lin Ran said this and China Aerospace agreed, they maintained a high level of secrecy right up until the moon landing.
On one hand, Apollo Technology selected a reserve astronaut named Wei Xuhang to go up, but he wouldn’t perform the moon landing; he’d do the lunar orbit, like Collins during the Apollo Moon Landing.
On the other hand, work on the moon landing continued, but the identity of the astronaut was kept highly confidential to prevent the Americans from causing trouble again.
However, due to the reassignment of Chinese astronauts Li Cong and Li Guang, though the news was completely sealed externally, various rumors still leaked out.
At this time, Zhihu’s anonymous posting feature hadn’t been taken down yet. Under the question “How to evaluate Apollo Technology’s two astronauts contracting COVID-19,” some new answers popped up:
“I work at Apollo Technology. I can only say our moon landing work is proceeding steadily. If the big rocket doesn’t launch on December 25th, I’ll offer my head. Everyone, just listen to Dragon’s Roar!”
“Chinese astronauts have entered the field and are undergoing emergency training. Expected to execute the moon landing mission as originally planned.”
Similar anonymous answers were plentiful.
But netizens generally didn’t believe them.
“Emergency training? You think moon landing is like going downstairs for a bowl of noodles? A bit of emergency training and you’re good to go!”
“Can you cancel anonymity before saying ‘listen to Dragon’s Roar’? We’re tired of Dragon’s Roar. That’s not trendy anymore! I just want to hear eagle cries after China’s moon landing!”
On Xiaohongshu, there were also posts from Apollo Technology employees’ family members:
“I thought the moon landing was postponed, so my husband could return from Wenchang to Shanghai, but he’s still completely out of contact there. Can’t reach him at all. General Manager Lin, isn’t this a bit excessive? If we can’t go up, why keep him locked away and not let him come back!”
This Xiaohongshu user had previously posted a pay stub, complaining that Apollo Technology looked prestigious but the take-home pay was about the same as state aerospace institutes, implying Lin Ran was a ruthless capitalist, so the credibility was high.
Combined with the Zhihu posts, it sparked a sliver of new hope among Chinese citizens unprecedentedly focused on the matter.
Could it be? To give the Americans a show of strength, are they still proceeding with the moon landing as planned?
But no matter how bold the guess at this moment, no one could imagine Lin Ran going up personally.
“Ranran, do you really have to go?”
The night before the moon landing, Lin Ran’s parents were brought to Wenchang Space Launch Site—this was their first meeting in years since the divorce.
Lin’s Mother was full of reluctance, and after saying just a couple words, tears streamed down.
Lin Ran wanted to grin, but he held back and said solemnly: “Mom, don’t worry. I never do anything without certainty.
I mean just in case, if something happens to me, my legacy is enough for you to live comfortably in retirement.”
Lin’s Mother smacked his arm twice: “Pah pah pah! Don’t say that! Mom doesn’t lack money. Even if I retire, I have a pension. Take those words back right now.
I don’t think anything will happen to you. I’m just worried about you.”
Lin Ran grinned now. He laughed: “You know astronauts get physicals before going up. I had at least five tubes of blood drawn. Now the most cutting-edge tech can actually induce ordinary cells into embryonic stem cells, then into reproductive cells.
I believe if something really happens to me, China Aerospace will definitely do cloning or IVF.”
Lin’s Mother’s face changed abruptly. “Enough, stop talking! That wouldn’t be you! I don’t want to hear you speak anymore, little mouth, no talking!”
Lin Ran turned to his father. He could see his father suppressing his emotions. Though they hadn’t lived together, living expenses had always been sent, including helping him attend Stony Brook University for his AI PhD—Lin Ran knew his father must have pulled big strings.
After all, in 2019, AI PhDs were a hot field; even Graph AI was AI.
But Lin Ran wasn’t good at expressing emotions: “Dad, anyway, I’ll definitely come back safe.”
“Good.” After Lin’s father spoke, he gave a brief hug and sat back in his chair.
The next day before departure, at the hotel before the physical, the last person Lin Ran saw was Li Xiaoman. “Aran, can’t you not go?”
Lin Ran didn’t answer but gave her a hug, whispering in her ear during it: “Wait for me to come back.”
At 5:30 a.m., the two astronauts were already in the restaurant enjoying a carefully prepared breakfast, mainly congee, steamed buns, dumplings, and some fresh fruit.
For Aldrin, bacon and pasta were prepared.
This was their last meal before launch, providing energy while carrying the flavor of home.
Aldrin and Wei Xuhang had arrived early.
Wei Xuhang felt like pie had fallen from the sky.
He thought he had no chance.
Unexpectedly, he still had a chance to go up.
And if something happened to Aldrin, he might even complete the moon landing with Lin Ran.
He was a true leak-picker.
Seeing Lin Ran walk in, “Professor, never thought it’d be you going to the Moon with me.”
Aldrin grinned widely.
Wei Xuhang said: “Professor, I definitely won’t drop the ball.”
Lin Ran smiled wryly: “Don’t say that. Saying it like that makes you sound lacking in confidence. And you don’t need any psychological burden.
Just sit in the command module. It has auto-cruise. If there’s an emergency needing operation, I’ll direct you. Just follow my commands exactly, no personal thoughts. You’re just a tool, got it?”
Wei Xuhang nodded: “Yes, sir!”
Then came the physical. At 6:00, medical checks—this was the final one before going up.
Doctors meticulously checked their heart rates, blood pressure, and temperatures.
Lin Ran’s pulse was steady as usual. He closed his eyes, a bit tense inside: “First manned spaceflight mission is to the Moon. Good thing everything is under control.”
The doctor said: “Professor Lin, please come back safely.”
Wei Xuhang was slightly tense, fingers tapping lightly on the exam bed edge, but he tried to stay calm, thinking: “This is a moment created by heaven, earth, and man together. I absolutely can’t mess up.”
At 6:30, the astronauts entered the suiting room, where technical personnel helped them don the custom “Feitian” spacesuits.
Cameras followed them right up to entering the suiting room.
This was Wenchang Launch Site’s professional photographer.
After shooting, these videos would be provided to CCTV and Bilibili’s documentary team for editing into programs.
The photographer wasn’t supposed to speak, just quietly record this final moment before the moon landing.
But he had been assigned a final interview task beforehand, to air on the 8:00 news slot: “Professor, anything you’d like to say to the national public before going up?”
He asked while pointing at the lens.
Lin Ran looked up at the lens and wagged his finger in front of it: “I want to say the professor’s life has only success, no failure!”
“Mr. Aldrin? Anything to say?” the photographer asked in somewhat broken English.
Aldrin smiled: “I believe in the professor. I have 100% confidence in this moon landing.”
Finally Wei Xuhang: “Astronaut Wei, as the last-minute addition to the moon landing trio, anything to say?”
Wei Xuhang’s smile was a bit stiff: “I… I guarantee mission accomplished!”
The photographer said no more, giving a thumbs-up gesture.
The suiting process was tedious but ritualistic, with technical personnel carefully checking every seal point.
Aldrin helped Wei Xuhang adjust his gloves, reminding: “Ensure the seal. The Moon doesn’t welcome leaky astronauts.”
Wei Xuhang nodded, smiling: “Relax, PhD, I checked three times!”
Lin Ran adjusted his helmet in front of the mirror, feeling deeply: after striving for so many years, he was finally going up personally to see.
Lin Ran suddenly gained new insight into what his father had said years ago:
“Lin Ran, life won’t wait for you to be fully prepared. School, job hunting, marriage, kids, career—nothing waits for you to be 100% ready.
Everyone’s forced onto the shelf. When things come, you face them. The more you’ve accumulated normally, the more composed you’ll be, but that composure is relative. Nothing is 100% prepared.
Life is always facing all possible pessimistic outcomes with an optimistic mindset.”
Lin Ran smiled at the mirror, thinking the moon landing was the same—wouldn’t wait for readiness, just happened suddenly.
If he hadn’t prepared before, hadn’t observed the astronauts’ training closely, even with Qian Fei and Zhao Jianguo’s accident, China Aerospace wouldn’t let him go.
At 7:00, in spacesuits, they walked through a glass corridor to the dedicated vehicle.
On both sides of the corridor, family, friends, and China Aerospace staff waved goodbye through the glass.
Lin Ran’s parents stood side by side waving.
Wei Xuhang’s young son waved and shouted: “Dad, bring back a piece of the Moon!”
He held back tears, waving back.
At Aldrin’s age, no elders left, no wife, kids estranged.
But luckily, old NASA buddies lined both sides of the corridor.
“PhD, don’t embarrass us!”
“Buzz, don’t die up there, kid!”
“Buzz, waiting for you to come back and tell us what’s different this time from last!”
“PhD, if Neil knows in heaven, he’ll be green with envy!”
Aldrin walked, laughed, and waved. He knew the old buddies envied him—they were comrades, 60 years ago and 60 years later.
At 7:30, the three boarded the dedicated shuttle to the launch pad.
Outside the car window, Wenchang’s trees gradually gave way to the majestic launch tower.
Staff around the rocket were busy yet orderly, air filled with faint fuel scent.
Inside the car, Aldrin said softly: “Professor, didn’t we cooperate 60 years ago? Why does this moment feel so familiar?”
Lin Ran smiled without responding.
Wei Xuhang said: “PhD, are you hallucinating? Brain issue? If so, we can swap now!”
Aldrin laughed and cursed: “Kid, ever heard of the hippocampus effect? Maybe the universe is in endless cycles. I remember—in the last cycle, I went to the Moon with the professor!
My nickname’s PhD, Randolph’s is professor. We’re natural partners!”
After speaking, Aldrin turned to the rocket outside, murmuring: “Can’t believe we’re heading to the Moon soon.”
Aldrin thought he had no chance this year, but things turned around.
As a moon landing veteran, China Aerospace had approached him, hoping he’d dissuade Lin Ran from going, saying as a moon landing aspirant, he wasn’t qualified yet.
Aldrin incredulously replied: “Professor not qualified? If the professor isn’t, then Neil and I shouldn’t have gone to the Moon back then.
The professor is the most talented astronaut I’ve seen. In just 15 days, this effect—he’s already far more mature as an astronaut than Qian and Zhao.”
Looking at the Chinese Saturn V outside now, Aldrin was filled with emotion.
At 8:00, the astronauts took the elevator up the launch tower into Ben Yue Hao spaceship’s command module.
The cabin was cramped, filled with control panels, display screens, and switches, air smelling of new equipment.
They lay into custom seats in sequence: Lin Ran center, Aldrin left, Wei Xuhang right.
Technical personnel buckled their seatbelts, closed the hatch, leaving only them three and ground radio contact.
Lin Ran began checking the flight plan, reviewing the task list on the tablet computer.
Wei Xuhang tested the comms system, into the microphone: “Ground control center, this is Ben Yue Hao, received, please respond.”
Ground responded: “Ben Yue Hao, signal clear, systems normal.”
Aldrin monitored life support, confirming oxygen and temperature parameters, muttering softly: “Oxygen normal, pressure normal…”
Ground control center was now urgently taken over by the Chinese official commander.
At 8:30, one hour to launch, astronauts entered final systems check.
Lin Ran checked the list item by item: “Navigation system?”
Wei Xuhang: “Online, calibration complete.”
Lin Ran: “Life support system?”
Wei Xuhang: “Life support system normal.”
Ground control center via headphones: “T-minus 60 minutes, all systems normal. Good luck, Ben Yue Hao crew.”
Lin Ran: “Thank you ground, we are ready.”
During countdown wait, Lin Ran said: “Buzz, as a kid I looked at the Moon wondering what’s up there. Now I can finally see for myself!”
Wei Xuhang sighed more: “PhD, as a kid I saw picture books of your moon landing. Now I get to take this great step with you.
One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. Seeing it as a kid, I dreamed of being an astronaut.
Thought I had no chance. Professor, truly grateful you chose me for the mission!”
Lin Ran laughed: “Do the command module tasks well—that’s the best thanks.”
Aldrin added: “I don’t mind dying on the Moon, but the professor can’t.”
In the small storage compartment by each seat, every astronaut brought a personal item.
Wei Xuhang had a locket with wife and son photos; seeing it always calmed him.
Lin Ran brought the Patek Philippe watch Jenny gave him from the mathematician conference—mark of another spacetime, best witness to his famous moments.
Commanding Gagarin’s Earth return, commanding Aldrin’s moon landing, Göttingen math miracle, New York Mathematicians Conference, chess 1V8—countless times it quietly stayed on his wrist.
This time no exception; he took it to the Moon.
Aldrin brought photos too: one of him with Neil and Collins on moon landing, and a family photo from before wife and kids scattered—just these two.
At 9:00, T-minus 30 minutes, cabin tension mounted.
Ground control center again: “Ben Yue Hao, T-minus 10 minutes, preparing for automatic countdown.”
