I can upgrade the shelter

The impact of the hand-crafted nuclear battery is nothing short of a nuclear explosion for anyone who understands the field.

To the researchers, it’s akin to magic or pseudo-science, as an ordinary car battery was tinkered with for just over ten minutes, undergoing mysterious operations they couldn’t comprehend, and magically transformed into an isotope thermoelectric battery!

If they hadn’t witnessed it firsthand and detected something themselves—especially since Chen Xin left the second finished product for them to test—they would never believe anyone in this world could actually create a nuclear battery by hand.

However, having observed how Chen Xin manually crafted an isotope thermoelectric battery, the researchers had no choice but to believe.

This unavoidably made these specially selected researchers desperately wish for Chen Xin to stay and work with them, to uncover how he manufactured the isotope thermoelectric battery.

Yet Chen Xin did not delay. After the researchers completed their tests on the second isotope thermoelectric battery, he took the battery back, hopped into his car, and left, leaving behind a group of researchers staring helplessly at Chen Xin’s armored RV as it departed, akin to shut-ins losing a loved one.

"That car is nuclear-powered; I should’ve come last night to study his car."

"Yes, an electric car can pull such heavy loads with tracks—I really wish we could see its power system!"

Several researchers were clearly filled with curiosity and desire to learn more about Chen Xin, but unfortunately, he had already left. They could only leave with the recorded footage and data on the isotope thermoelectric battery, feeling regretful.

The official from the provincial government of Anhui Province also wore an expression of regret, knowing that Anhui had missed out on a top talent.

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Chen Xin didn’t care what the Anhui officials thought. He knew that with this incident, higher-ups would inevitably recognize his existence.

As for future matters, although Chen Xin had plans and preparations, the approach would need to adapt along the way. How the country would cooperate, and in what manner, were questions worthy of contemplation but beyond his control.

After all, Chen Xin is just an online writer. He had only seen such collaborations between ordinary people and the country in novel plots, without any real-life experience to draw from.

It’s much like a multinational corporation wouldn’t sign a strategic cooperation agreement with a roadside workshop. Cooperation between a country and an individual seemed like a near impossibility.

Nonetheless, based on Chen Xin’s assumption, upon demonstrating his value and capabilities, Flame Country’s upper echelons would presumably still be willing to collaborate with him. Besides showcasing the isotope thermoelectric battery’s manufacturing technology, he also displayed his talent in mechanical alterations.

He believed that with the vision and insight of a nation’s leaders, they would recognize his value.

Therefore, cooperation itself was not an issue for Chen Xin; the only uncertainty was the manner in which the country would partner with him.

In Chen Xin’s view, the most suitable mode of cooperation would be for the country to provide prototype equipment and materials, allowing him to upgrade and transform these potentially lab-conceptual devices into finished products for researchers to conduct reverse engineering, thereby indirectly enhancing Flame Country’s technological prowess.

After all, Chen Xin’s capabilities are limited. Even if he had a black hole instead of a brain, his ideas would still be finite.

How can one person’s ideas ever compare to the collective wisdom and efforts of a nation?

Regarding what Chen Xin might gain from this, aside from improving survival quality with upgraded products—enabling him to earn survival points—simply helping the world rebuild as much as possible from the ashes and return to the way of life was incentive enough for him to decide on this path.

With these thoughts, Chen Xin drove forward along the road.

He came to the three towns not only to send off Zhang Chengguang but also to cross the Yangtze River from here.

But contrary to what Chen Xin had envisioned—crossing via the Yangtze River Bridge or directly over the frozen river surface—there was an even simpler, faster way from the three towns.

That way was the cross-river tunnel.

There are eleven Yangtze River Bridges in the three towns, with only one still under construction before the disaster hit, while the other ten were completed and open to traffic.

Furthermore, there are two road tunnels and four subways cutting under the Yangtze River path, which were in operation before the catastrophe.

However, with the advent of disaster, the weather severely affected the construction of the final Yangtze River Bridge, leaving it unfinished, and others suffering varying degrees of damage.

Despite efforts from the municipal government of the three towns and Anhui province to restore and maintain the ten bridges, only seven remained passable, while three had been retired.

Moreover, despite still being functional, vehicle passage was restricted due to maintenance concerns; heavy vehicles like Chen Xin’s armored RV tracked vehicle were prohibited from crossing the Yangtze River Bridge.

Thus, Chen Xin had to choose to proceed via the cross-river tunnel, crossing the Yangtze River from below the riverbed.

Chen Xin previously learned that although the river was frozen, water flowed beneath with ice thickness ranging three to five meters, suitable for pedestrians or ordinary family vehicles. But his armored RV couldn’t ensure safe passage.

Driving into the river’s heart and fracturing the ice layer won’t dump the vehicle into the river, but even getting stuck on the ice would pose a huge problem, resisting rescue efforts. So Chen Xin opted for the existing path rather than driving directly over icy terrain.

Furthermore, passing the Yangtze River via the tunnel would be less worrying and labor-intensive compared to river surface crossing.

This still resulted in significant vehicle presence within the tunnel, despite far lesser traffic than before the disaster, instilling a semblance of former vibrancy.

Chen Xin adjusted his speed, driving along with the traffic flow, capturing significant attention with his armored RV, even receiving flashing signals when passing others.

The cross-river tunnel wasn’t brightly lit like before the catastrophe; most wall lamps were extinguished, leaving minimal lighting for basic tunnel illumination.

This was clearly an energy conservation measure.

A larger city requires greater energy expenditure; such a vast city with over ten million in residency before the disaster would still burn astronomical energy amounts despite reducing consumption.

Plus, with active post-disaster reconstruction efforts in the three towns, all energy-saving measures in place were valued.

Although power plants existed, the national grid connecting Flame Country was largely obliterated by prior disaster impacts, including high-voltage transmission lines, most damaged by initial shockwaves and fires.

Regions relied on local power plants for electricity generation, creating inevitable shortages, something even more evident in larger cities.

If Chen Xin’s city didn’t benefit from hosting a large power plant, electrical scarcity would have preceded any fuel trouble-induced issues.

After all, when visiting research institutions, Chen Xin heard researchers mention efforts by national bodies to develop small nuclear reactor technology. Although prior research existed, real demonstrations only emerged pre-disaster with no major technological promotions.

This was one reason Chen Xin previously handed an isotope thermoelectric battery to Zhang Chengguang, hoping scientists in Flame Country might infer more nuclear technology from the battery, enhancing nuclear power capabilities for post-disaster recovery.

Clearly, Chen Xin’s goal was met, brightening his mood.

Exiting the tunnel, Chen Xin was positioned on the northern bank of the Yangtze River, navigating through city roads and faced with deciding which path to take next.

Due to practical necessities, city streets were cleared daily in the three towns to reveal original pathways, also supporting survivor employment.

Yet outside the city lay a snowy landscape, concealing all roads.

Re-entering snowy terrain, Chen Xin deployed reconnaissance drones from his vehicle while reviewing the map, contemplating his route choice.

Thɪs chapter is updated by novelꞁire.net

The northern regions of the Yangtze in Anhui Province contained numerous mountains; traveling from here to Anhui involved either a highway from the three towns to Shanghai or a road labeled G318.

Given mountain travel difficulties, Chen Xin could alternatively follow another highway along the Yangtze’s coast to travel through gentler regions.

Such detours would consume more time.

After serious map consideration, Chen Xin decided on the national road.

This wasn’t before the disaster, where days could be spent aimlessly circling—and surprisingly, he recalled that road G318 passed his hometown, ensuring he wouldn’t stray astray.