Chapter 375: Da Ze Has Been This Way Since Ancient Times
“Because of experience, we have the world’s richest moon landing experience.” Lin Ran explained, “Alright, Lei Zong, when you return to Earth, you’ll have plenty of time to slowly savor this moon trip. We need to perk up now.
After preparing to change into spacesuits, we’re going out. You can intuitively appreciate the man-made wonder we’ve created on the moon.”
Spacesuits are divided into intra-cabin spacesuits and extravehicular spacesuits. Before exiting the cabin, you need to change into extravehicular spacesuits, then observe the external situation to ensure everything is fine before exiting.
At this time, it was already 1 a.m. Yanjing time, but countless citizens hadn’t slept. They were all glued to screens—mobile phone screens, television screens, computer screens—preparing to watch the first episode of the moon chapter with Ran Shen.
Lei Zong?
Who is Lei Zong? Has he appeared throughout?
From the moon landing onward, Lei Zong only had voice, no image. The audience had almost forgotten there was such a character while watching the live broadcast.
Lei Jun gazed at the display screen on the cabin wall, which showed the real-time footage from the external camera.
He transmitted this footage to the Earth audience.
“Alright, Lei Zong, professor, we’re preparing to change into spacesuits.” Wei Xuhang’s voice came over the radio channel.
“Okay,” Lei Jun unfastened his seatbelt and gently floated up in the lander’s microgravity environment, his movements somewhat clumsy.
The cabin environment was cramped, with walls covered in instrument panels, storage cabinets, and emergency oxygen bottles. The air was filled with the smell of metal and plastic, and the temperature was maintained at a constant 20 degrees.
Lin Ran floated toward the storage area, opened a sealed cabinet door, and took out two sets of extravehicular spacesuits—these were the latest models designed by Apollo Technology, lighter and more durable than previous spacesuits, weighing about 80 kilograms, including backpack-style life support systems that could provide 8 hours of oxygen cycling, cooling water, and radiation protection.
In the not-too-distant future, there’s a bit of contradiction here—from Lin Ran’s perspective, it’s something that will happen in the future, but from the timeline, it’s actually the past.
Lin Ran had to go to the moon alone using the door, without a spaceship, without a life support system, and had to bring a small nuclear fission power station and a full set of computer equipment to complete deployment in a crater at the lunar south pole.
This was complex and arduous work; if the spacesuit wasn’t up to par, it posed a life-threatening danger.
Therefore, Lin Ran had always spared no effort in investing in spacesuits, as they related to his own life safety.
As Lin Ran spoke, he unfolded his EVA suit. From the audience’s perspective, his movements were exceptionally skilled: “What we’re wearing now are intra-cabin spacesuits, also called IVA, mainly for comfort and mobility during the flight phase. They can’t withstand the moon’s vacuum.
They lack complete life support and can only rely on the cabin systems.
Now we’re changing into extravehicular spacesuits.”
Lei Jun added: “I know, they’re called EVA suits.” He had done his homework.
“Right, now first take off the IVA suit and put on the liquid cooling underlayer. That’s the cooling circulation system, which regulates body temperature to prevent overheating in the moon’s high temperatures or freezing in low temperatures.”
Earth viewers unexpectedly discovered that Ran Shen’s physique was actually pretty good?
“Lei Zi, don’t shake the camera around, stop swaying it. Can’t you just aim it at Ran Shen?”
“I thought Ran Shen had a shut-in physique, but unexpectedly he has some lean muscle.”
“This makes it even better.”
The battle-hardened Cold War warrior had made exercise a basic routine back at Redstone Arsenal, and after his body mutation, his absolute control over his body allowed Lin Ran to precisely target the areas he wanted to train.
Naturally, it resulted in a look with muscles but sufficiently fluid lines.
Lin Ran was changing into the extravehicular spacesuit.
Wei Xuhang’s movements were even more skilled. After changing, he began guiding Lei Zong.
The liquid cooling garment Lin Ran mentioned was a fabric covered in fine tubes, wrapping the body like a spider web.
“Feels like wearing a wet shirt,” Lei Jun complained as he carefully zipped it up to avoid tangling the tubes.
Wei Xuhang helped check his connections: “Exactly, it mainly relies on circulating water for heat dissipation.”
The lower half consisted of pants and boots.
The boot soles had special grip layers to prevent accidents from moon dust being too slippery.
Moon dust consists of electrostatically charged nanometer-level particles that stick to everything and can even seep into joints, causing malfunctions.
The upper body components were more complex: rigid torso armor connected to the life support backpack.
The backpack could sustain 8 hours, extendable to 12 hours in emergencies, so after that time, they needed to return to the spaceship or temporary base for replacement.
The helmet was the final step, with a gold coating to block solar glare and a built-in HUD display screen.
After putting on the helmet, the Xiaomi Glasses were specially made to not conflict with it, but once worn, the footage transmitted back to Earth still looked like it had a filter applied, becoming somewhat blurry.
It also enhanced the sci-fi feel.
It felt like an 1980s low-resolution sci-fi movie projected onto modern screens, as if transporting people back to the last century.
“What if our country had achieved a moon landing in the last century?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered; back then, people couldn’t even eat their fill. What would a moon landing have changed?” Similar dialogues occurred in some university dorms.
Lei Jun put on his helmet, and with a click, it sealed. Wei Xuhang helped check the seal and pressure, with pressure tested by injecting nitrogen from the cabin system.
He felt a buzzing in his ears, and the HUD lit up green.
“Lei Zong, seal normal,” Wei Xuhang’s voice came through the helmet communication. “Preparing to exit the cabin.”
After changing, the three floated toward the airlock: a narrow transitional chamber about the size of an elevator car, with walls covered in valves and control panels.
Lin Ran activated the external camera, and the screen showed a panoramic view outside the lander: the lunar surface calm and still, dust slightly stirred by the airflow, with no visible rock threats or anomalous heat sources.
“Professor, doesn’t the moon have no atmosphere? Why is the moon soil kicking up?” Lei Jun asked.
Lin Ran explained: “Because we just landed. This is the effect of residual landing airflow.”
“Conducting external situation check per procedure.” With that, Lin Ran issued the command.
Wei Xuhang nodded: “Got it!”
The procedure included checking radiation levels, temperature, solar flares, surrounding crater conditions, etc.
This time, everything looked perfect.
“External clear,” Wei Xuhang replied.
Lin Ran nodded: “Good, now depressurize the airlock. Lei Zong, grab the handholds tight.
During depressurization, the air will be pumped out over 5 minutes to avoid explosive decompression.”
He pressed the button, the inner airlock door closed, and the pumps started working.
Cabin pressure dropped from 1 atm to vacuum, and Lei Jun felt his spacesuit begin to inflate, like a balloon being pumped up.
Depressurization complete, the outer door slowly opened. Grayish-white moonlight poured in, and Lin Ran was the first to poke his head out, his boots stepping onto the ladder.
“Wei Xuhang, take good care of Lei Zong.” Lin Ran said, “Lei Zong, in low gravity, it’s easy to jump too high and fall, kicking up dust. Falling isn’t a big deal, but it’s best not to.”
Lei Jun was in the middle, with Wei Xuhang behind him.
The three descended one by one.
“What does this count as? Armstrong’s was one giant leap for humanity, America’s recent moon-landing astronaut Sarah was one small step for black women,” Lei Jun asked: “Professor, what should I say?
I thought about it before, but now I’ve forgotten it all.”
After the long journey—over 80 hours was indeed long—with pressurization and depressurization, they finally reached the moon.
For an individual, tourism has levels, and the moon is absolutely the ultimate goal.
The brilliant feeling of this ultimate goal, with the silent, desolate environment—if Lin Ran and Wei Xuhang didn’t speak, he could only hear his own breathing in the helmet.
Purely from a visual effect, this place seemed forever incompatible with the word “life.”
Pulling back the view, at the crater’s edge, there was a line of light and dark intersection—that was the boundary between the shadowed region and the illuminated area.
In the shadowed region, there was actually a human building, not small in size, simply a miracle of life.
“Just say it’s one small step for you personally, one giant leap for Xiaomi Group. Copy it and you’re done.” Lin Ran teased.
Hearing this, Lei Jun grinned. It was Lin Ran’s familiar style—casual teasing backed by absolute confidence. But I feel like your hint is a bit too obvious.
To handle a moon landing so maturely, with the entire process smooth like a long-haul flight from one end of Earth to the other—this demonstrated technical strength and control that left Lei Jun, the engineering guy, in awe.
This was why external networks no longer mentioned Apollo Technology ripping off the Apollo Moon Landing.
Because it was pointless; stirring that topic would only bring self-inflicted humiliation.
After Saturn V, you already lost moon-landing capability, while Apollo Technology only used Saturn V for the first moon landing, then switched to their own modified reusable rockets.
Not only was the rocket itself reusable, but they completely abandoned America’s lunar orbit rendezvous mode of separating into command module and lunar module, achieving direct moon landing without separation.
Technologically, they’ve advanced to the next step, and you’re still hung up on rip-offs—it proves nothing but past glory.
General Aerospace importing China Aerospace technology directly shattered the old Americans’ narrative logic around Apollo Technology.
The logic behind this is similar to the new energy vehicle industry.
At first, people obsessed over it, but after Tesla opened patents, China new energy vehicle competition intensified. Regardless of whether China’s new energy vehicles related to Tesla’s open patents, as the China new energy vehicle industry developed, fewer people mentioned it.
“Ran Shen is too merciless.”
“Now I don’t want to watch Ran Shen anymore; Ran Shen is just a mask, can’t see his face at all. I want to see Lei Zong’s expressions.”
“No, strongly request Xiaomi’s product manager to make the Xiaomi Glasses have an inward-facing camera too! To capture the wearer’s expressions.”
Lin Ran hadn’t finished speaking; he continued: “Lei Zong, I didn’t mean to hint. Apollo Technology started with imitation too.
Xiaomi only imitated Apple’s appearance early on; we directly pixel-for-pixel imitated NASA’s Apollo Moon Landing program.
Imitate first, then surpass—perfectly normal.”
Although Lin Ran was trying to smooth it over, Lei Jun wouldn’t engage; he wanted to skip this topic quickly.
Because you can say that; you’re doing to-B business, while to-C is unique.
For moon tourism projects, who else but Apollo Technology can do it?
No matter what you say, it won’t affect your business, but it’s different for me. If I say that, in Earth’s public opinion arena, competitors will pounce like they found a gun, and Mi-series bloggers will collapse in this propaganda war.
Lei Jun said: “I’m feeling very excited, very happy, very thrilled right now. This is one of the highlight moments in my personal life, the fruit of my life’s struggles.
A young man from a small town in Hubei, amid China’s vast developmental momentum, able to ultimately step onto the moon’s soil—I feel unprecedented honor.”
Yes, at a time like this, since I can’t respond to Lin Ran’s words, I’ll create a topic: talk about my struggles, my efforts, the homeland’s strength, the homeland’s development.
This is an absolutely foolproof answer.
There’s a concept in the public opinion arena called the greatest common divisor; you need to please this group, and Lei Jun’s answer was pleasing China’s greatest common divisor.
Same moon landing, but America’s black female astronaut immediately talks about black women upon landing—that only pleased her small audience of progressive values, pure negative textbook example.
Rednecks, no matter how nostalgic for the golden age, couldn’t resonate with your “one small step for black women.”
But Chinese citizens who experienced decades of China’s economic takeoff have a strong sense of this vast developmental momentum; development has always been China’s greatest common divisor.
No matter your political spectrum, China’s development is what everyone pursues together, ignoring the tiny extreme minority.
As they spoke, they walked toward the base at the crater’s edge.
“This is our Moon Base One.” Lin Ran said, “In NASA’s plan, this is their designated lunar south pole entry point, only 2 kilometers from the permanently shadowed regions.”
Bullet screen exploded: “Old Zhong is too ruthless.”
“NASA officials watching the live broadcast are probably fainting from anger!”
“NASA again, still NASA—does Ran Shen really want to be NASA director?”
This was because Young John Morgan, in a New York Times interview, mentioned Lin Ran joking about wanting to be NASA director.
The report mentioned Lin Ran, which got transmitted back domestically, sparking hot discussion for a while.
Outsiders joked that the White House should quickly issue a presidential appointment to invite Lin Ran to NASA.
Young John Morgan thought it was a joke, Chinese netizens thought it was a joke, and they joined in the fun.
Little did they know, it wasn’t a joke; Lin Ran really wanted to return to NASA to revitalize it, with the first thing being to purge all traces of LGBT progressive values from NASA.
Just as Chinese netizens guessed, NASA high-level officials were gathered watching this China moon landing live broadcast.
Because there was a lot of content that interested them, including nuclear fission power stations, lunar orbit construction, 3D printing factories, etc.
These all piqued their interest: whatever China does, we’ll do in the future too.
China can draw from the Apollo Moon Landing; why can’t we draw from their technical directions?
High-levels were watching, and NASA’s experts were watching too.
Melroy turned to Grov George beside her: “Grov, what do we do?”
What to do? How to face the surging public opinion.
Aerospace has always been highly tied to politics.
Not just international politics, but domestic politics too.
The US-Soviet space race during the Cold War, internally, was the Donkey-Elephant using space race lag to attack each other.
The president during the Sputnik Moment was Elephant Party’s Eisenhower; Donkey Party media used this topic to fiercely attack Eisenhower with satirical cartoons and White House jokes in barrage.
Donkey Party’s Kennedy coming to power in 1960 couldn’t be unrelated to the Donkey Party’s operations during the Sputnik Moment.
“We can say we found a better moon base construction site than Shackleton.”
Grov said: “Anyway, that’s what we’ll say; whether it exists or not doesn’t matter?
We don’t need to announce it publicly. As for outside questions, we’ll say given China’s actions, we need to keep it secret to avoid China occupying the location first, leading to a repeat of the Shackleton Crater tragedy.”
Melroy said: “The problem is there’s no such place right now.”
Grov said: “If we say there is, there is. If outsiders question it, are the outsider reporters more professional or is NASA?
Plus, with the president changing, the NASA director position—you’ll stay at most a year. Whether Donkey Party or Elephant Party wins, after this White House term, you’ll have to leave. By then, does it matter if the location exists?
It’ll be the next one’s problem.”
Old timers had announced retirement; now it was big T vs. Kamala.
No matter who, Melroy had to leave NASA; as a former astronaut, she clearly couldn’t adapt to NASA’s increasingly high demands.
Moreover, a white woman’s identity was progressive enough for old white males like old timers, but for a black Indian-mixed woman like Kamala, the progressive value seemed insufficient.
Lacking progressive value and not being a technocrat—even if same-party Kamala came to power, she wouldn’t keep Melroy at NASA.
Melroy suddenly realized, “Makes sense.” She knew herself she couldn’t stay at NASA and had privately complained to Grov.
“If Elephant Party wins, we’re burying a landmine for Musk.” Melroy continued; Musk’s wolfish ambitions for NASA were well-known.
So Chinese netizens were still too naive; how could Donkey Party bureaucrats lose? They’re much more ruthless than old Zhong, playing rednecks, white leftists, and minority ethnic groups for fools.
After entering one after another,
“Lei Zong, we’ll wait here and not go in. Wait for Wei Xuhang to drive the lunar rover out from Moon Base One.” Lin Ran said, “Now we need to go find the landing points of the previous three rockets and haul back the cargo.”
This excited Lei Jun even more: “Good.”
Then he said to the air: “Viewers watching the live broadcast, my mood right now is extremely excited—this is the Xiaomi-brand lunar rover!”
Lin Ran reminded: “There are two Xiaomi-brand lunar rovers on the moon!”
Yes, and one had rushed day and night from the Sea of Tranquility to the lunar south pole.
Lei Jun gave a wry smile; fortunately, the Xiaomi Glasses wouldn’t capture it. He knew that Xiaomi rover was also Lin Ran’s masterpiece, giving Xiaomi a huge spotlight globally.
A wonderful misunderstanding.
“Yes, so for those wanting to see the rover, consider our SU7!” Lei Jun said: “Aerospace quality, trustworthy! Running perfectly in the moon’s complex environment!”
As the hatch fully opened, a faint moon dust was drawn up by vacuum suction and dispersed in the air. Named Xiaomi Hao, the lunar rover was a six-wheel-drive beast, about three meters long, covered in solar panels.
All previous scientific detection instruments had been removed.
Detection would be done by unmanned rovers; its primary task was hauling cargo.
The roof mechanical arm was poised, having slumbered two months in the base’s maintenance bay; after charging and upgrading, it was ready for action again.
The rover’s wheels began turning slowly; in the moon’s low gravity, everything felt light and eerie.
It slid out from the base’s ramp, wheels crushing over uneven moon soil, kicking up dust that hung suspended in the airless environment without settling.
“Wow, this is way more spectacular than watching the live broadcast from Earth; it’s huge.”
From first-person view, the rover was like a small mountain. Lei Jun sighed: “This beast immediately made me feel the ticket price was worth it.”
During boarding, Lin Ran said: “Lei Zong, if there’s extra time, we can go find where America’s Xiaomi Hao is for an epic meeting.”
Lei Jun anticipated: “I believe that would be a historic meeting!”
He then asked: “Hey, professor, aren’t we sitting in the front?”
Lin Ran said: “Of course not; we need to get off to load cargo, so we’ll sit in the back. No need to change spacesuits; Wei Xuhang drives.”
Lei Jun thought: Loading cargo? Meaning I’ll directly contact the nuclear power station in my spacesuit? This made him inwardly worried.
Lin Ran didn’t look at Lei Jun but seemed to sense his concern: “Lei Zong, relax; it has radiation shielding layers, won’t affect you at all.”
The dedicated cargo delivery was an unmanned cargo spaceship modified from Ben Yue Hao, with more sensors like laser rangefinders and radar, equipped with the most advanced automatic landing system.
A collaboration between Apollo Technology and China Aerospace, capable of round trips; after astronauts retrieve cargo, the spaceship launches back to Earth, gets repaired, and cycles back into use.
Currently, 4 ships were in service.
Military forum netizens had always hoped old Zhong could base this tech on global airdrop low Earth orbit troop ships.
To give Earth a divine soldier descent.
After all, China’s economy had been expanding in Africa, but actual influence lagged far behind economic growth.
Netizens felt that even one such divine soldier descent troop ship would greatly improve China’s safety in Africa.
“Ground control center, this is Moon Base One,” Wei Xuhang reported to Earth’s Wenchang Control Center via encrypted communication link. “Please transmit the exact position of Cargo 5-1.”
Why not transmit earlier? To save power; without human astronauts, the rover was in overall hibernation.
“Cargo 5-1 landing point is 3.5 km from base, coordinates 89.8°S, 1.2°E. Nuclear reactor module status normal.”
The voice came, Earth’s response delayed 2.5 seconds—the inevitable cost of 300,000+ km communication. Data was simultaneously transmitted to the rover’s onboard computer via the communication link.
Actually, the ground control center’s engineering team was more excited than the moon’s astronauts.
Because if successful, this would be humanity’s first deployment of a small nuclear fission power station on the lunar surface.
This 100-kilowatt reactor would provide continuous power to the base, freeing it from solar limitations, especially during brief lunar eclipses or when expanding into shadowed regions.
Moon astronauts still worried about smoothly completing the task, while Earth had entered win-to-numb fantasies.
No one thought there’d be failure with the professor personally on site.
“Xiaomi Hao, reactor designed with molybdenum alloy casing, internal high-enriched uranium-235 fuel rods, equipped with automatic cooling system and radiation shielding layers.
It’s now in hibernation mode, heat decay rate below 0.1%.
During transit, monitor tire structure anytime to prevent excessive contraction; during recovery, watch for moon dust to avoid interfering with electronic equipment.” Further instructions came from Earth.
Wei Xuhang replied: “Received!”
The reactor had a full three layers of shielding; knowing this, Lei Jun’s suspended heart eased a bit.
The lunar surface was uneven, but Wei Xuhang was experienced; he mostly avoided wheels sinking into loose dust layers, as moon dust rich in glassy particles would electrostatically adhere to equipment, causing shorts.
Still, there were a few times it got stuck in soft dust; then Lei Jun and Lin Ran had to get off and push.
Upon learning he had to push, Lei Jun joked: “Professor, this moon trip’s activities are truly rich.
Space station space tourism projects have people lying by portholes drinking coffee watching Earth; mine requires pushing the rover.”
(Astronaut drinking coffee on the International Space Station)
Lin Ran replied: “Lei Zong, pushing a Xiaomi-brand lunar rover shouldn’t be a happy thing?”
“Makes sense!” Lei Jun agreed deeply; if it had an AITO logo, he’d lose even more?
After a small crater, Wei Xuhang accelerated to 10 km/h; the rover’s display marked the optimal route: just bypass a small crater and follow the ridge line.
Facing the camera, Lin Ran interacted with the audience: “This nuclear reactor isn’t like Earth’s large nuclear power stations; it’s modular design with 10-year fuel life, no frequent maintenance needed.
Heat is transferred via sodium-potassium alloy loop to avoid water evaporation in vacuum.
Once back at base, we just connect cables to the converter for stable DC power output, supporting water ice extraction, oxygen production, and other power-needing operations.”
2 km away, the cargo spaceship stood quietly, clashing with the moon’s desolate surroundings.
After parking, as Lei Jun and Lin Ran slowly disembarked, Lei Jun said: “This feels just like seeing an alien spaceship on Earth—so magical.”
Lin Ran said: “Alright, time to work.
Wenchang Control Center, this is Lin Ran. Have Cargo 5-1 unload!”
Ground control replied: “Got it, professor.”
The cargo spaceship was upright, yes, but it still had power and fuel. Its middle split open, and a cylindrical object rolled down the prepared ramp.
It rolled a distance on the moon soil and stopped.
Wei Xuhang’s voice from the communication module: “Scanner confirms no leaks.”
Lin Ran said: “Visual confirm: module intact, no external damage. Report radiation levels.”
Moments later, Wei Xuhang replied: “Radiation level 0.05 millisieverts/hour, within safe range.”
Lin Ran said: “Good, prepare mechanical arm to connect tow hook.”
After speaking, Lin Ran turned to Lei Jun: “Lei Zong, let’s go; now we need to move the power station over here.”
Lei Jun puzzled: “Move?”
Lin Ran said: “More accurately, tow it. It has wheels; imagine it as a cylindrical battery with four wheels.
This is its current form; we need to push it over and connect it to the rover.
That way the rover can bring it back to base.”
With that, the two approached the nuclear fission power station—a silver cylinder quietly in the moon soil, lingering dust reminding them this wasn’t Earth.
With Earth’s operation, wheels extended from the cylinder’s side; they just needed to tip it over so the wheels could grip the ground firmly.
Then slowly push the power station to the rover’s side.
The process was simple, but everyone was careful, afraid of damaging the power station.
“After we leave, the cargo spaceship automatically returns to Earth?” Lei Jun asked.
Lin Ran said: “Yes, once we’re gone, ground control will pick the right time for launch, using automatic navigation system to return to Earth.”
Lei Jun marveled: “Truly proficient with practice.”
Once the power station was behind the rover, the mechanical arm extended, claws grabbing the reactor base’s mounting ring.
Click, locked.
Lin Ran confirmed it secure, then returned to the rover’s rear compartment.
Wei Xuhang activated tow mode; the rover slowly reversed, pulling the module.
Low gravity made it easy, but moon dust stirred up a gray tail trail.
He carefully maintained balance to avoid rollover; onboard gyroscopes and stabilization systems adjusted posture in real time.
On the way back to base, Lei Jun occasionally glanced at the trailing power station: “Professor, you know? This feels like herding cattle home in a Western cowboy movie.”
Lin Ran said: “This in the 1960s would be solid sci-fi movie material.”
The power station was smoothly brought back to the Shackleton Crater base.
Under Lin Ran and Wei Xuhang’s work, the power station stood on the base’s outer rocky plain, wheels retracted into the body.
Lei Jun’s Xiaomi Glasses faithfully recorded the entire process.
The silver-gray reactor hull gleamed at the sunlight-shadow boundary with an otherworldly light.
No wind sound, only the steady hiss of spacesuit respirators.
The three entered the base, first changing into intra-cabin spacesuits in the depressurization chamber, the heavy hatch closing behind.
Then entering the base interior, which was large—much better than Lei Jun expected.
The moon had gravity, albeit one-sixth Earth’s, far better than full zero gravity.
The over 100 square meter space had furniture and decor fixed with special structures to prevent floating.
Computers were embedded in the base walls.
“Main console online.” Lin Ran pulled out a chair and tapped the keyboard.
Screen lit up; Lin Ran switched to the nuclear fission power station control panel.
The power curve was a steady upward line.
Wei Xuhang sat nearby monitoring coolant flow readings.
Lei Jun sat on the sofa; he had nothing to do now.
But bullet screen was all: “Don’t just sit there!”
“You’re just a guest, huh!”
“Lei Zi, hurry up and go work!”
From moon landing to hauling the power station back to base, the whole process ran from 1 a.m. Earth time to 5 a.m., with tens of millions of Chinese netizens accompanying the moon landing trio in the live stream.
Weibo’s top trending term: “Best reality show”
“This is the best reality show I’ve ever seen: two of China’s top tycoons on a moon trip, first-person view from one, you see Ran Shen being sarcastic, Lei Zong full of passion, Wei Xuhang quietly working.
Plus seeing Lei Zong and Lin Ran pushing the rover, Western desolation highlighting alien wonders—too many highlights, endlessly fascinating, simply too exciting.”
“No thanks, honestly, Lei Zong totally got his money’s worth; Xiaomi rover is the best ad. This project is so rich, and it’s only day one with a full seven days; I only worry if Lei Zong’s stamina can hold up.”
“Next time, can a television station afford to send celebrities to the moon for a variety show, or Korea loves making Squid Game?
How about transforming the moon into a real Squid Game, only one survives—let willing participants go up; Earth law can’t reach the moon.
Conflict-free shows are already this good; hard to imagine how thrilling a Squid Game-style variety show would be.”
Due to language, foreign netizens found it exciting for the visuals, while Chinese netizens interpreted more interesting content.
“9.8 liters per second.” Wei Xuhang’s voice tensed: “Professor, dropped to the lower limit.”
Lin Ran raised his voice: “Activate emergency protocol!”
Lei Jun instantly tensed.
The base interior had air, so sounds echoed directly; he clearly felt the tension in Wei Xuhang’s voice and Lin Ran’s raised tone.
He was even more nervous inwardly but stayed silent, knowing not to cause trouble.
Wei Xuhang reached for the emergency handle.
“Reduce power.” Lin Ran said softly.
Control rods began descending, 2 mm every two seconds.
Reactor thermal power slowly dropped to one-third original.
Backup pump activated; high-frequency motor whine entered ears, flow returned to 10.6 liters per second.
Display showed outlet temperature slowly falling.
“305 degrees, pressure stable.” Wei Xuhang read out.
“Good.”
Ground control’s voice: “Confirm recovery; keep backup pump five minutes.”
Five minutes later, main pump took over.
Flow rose to 12.1 liters per second, temperature to 285 degrees.
Backup pump shut down, hot standby retained.
“Log: Cooling anomaly handled, max temp 320 degrees, no radiation anomalies.” Lin Ran said into the microphone.
Wei Xuhang relaxed.
Screen showed power back to 40 kilowatts.
Grid switch closed; base lights instantly brighter, steadier.
Lin Ran looked up at the warm yellow LED strip on the ceiling: “Alright, the base now has its own heart.”
Lei Jun walked over: “Success?”
Lin Ran nodded, pointing at the ceiling: “Yes, it’s already grid-connected and generating power.”
Lei Jun then asked: “Just now?”
Lin Ran said: “Just now was a small accident. When coolant flow is below 10 liters per second, or pump outlet temp over 30 degrees, we suspect nuclear fission power station cooling system failure.
Then activate emergency protocol: lower control rods until core power below 5%, start backup pumps. If flow doesn’t recover, execute SCRAM, run auxiliary cooling loop until core temp below 120 degrees.
Small issue.
At worst, the nuclear fission power station doesn’t run as planned, no other dangers.
We have very robust emergency protocols; the nuclear fission power station design has ample redundancy backups.
If ignoring safety and redundancy, we could even make it chassis-sized.”
Lei Jun relaxed too.
So did Earth’s live viewers.
It was obvious at a glance something had happened.
Everyone’s hearts were in their throats; if Ran Shen had an accident on the moon, for China, it’d be losing national treasure-level talent—unbearable loss.
“Phew, all good!”
“Was about to sleep, but the sudden accident kept me watching; gotta work tomorrow!”
“Didn’t know what happened or what accident, but too thrilling; my heart’s still racing.”
“666 finally grid-connected, moon’s first nuclear power station, from China!”
“So satisfying; moon base construction is exhilarating!”
“Lei Zong probably didn’t expect a moon trip this thrilling.”
“Power is the foundation of everything; with solar panels and nuclear fission power station, moon base expansion has no limits.”
“Yeah, Ran Shen said he’d turn the moon into our 380,000 km off-Earth enclave. Why should old Americans come to the moon? The moon has been an inalienable part of China since ancient times!”
“Since ancient times” flooded the live chat.
Everyone playing the “since ancient times” meme.
Moon so great, why let other countries share the cake?
Lin Ran’s voice: “Lei Zong, prepare, eat something, drink water, rest a bit; we’re heading to the next destination soon.”
“Ah?”
