Chapter 1271: Chemical Talk on the Commuter Train

"Of course, of course." A knowing expression crossed Wu Nanhai's face.

After the brief and solemn opening ceremony, Ma Qianzhu symbolically pulled down the feeding switch. Two thousand strings of firecrackers immediately burst to life. Accompanied by the crowd's cheers, the ceremony concluded. No students from Fangcaodi had been brought to lead cheers, nor were there banquets or other spectacles to generate "atmosphere."

The General Office of the Senate had recently issued a notice on "Practicing Strict Economy and Opposing Extravagance and Waste," requiring all departments and Senators to minimize unnecessary celebrations and reduce official entertainment expenses. The scale was accordingly modest. However, the customary tour following the opening remained indispensable.

Visiting and observing operations was the most effective means of winning hearts and minds, so the Senate never missed such opportunities. This batch of Tiandihui members had already tried chemical fertilizer in small quantities and long since experienced the magical properties of this "field-fattening powder." Hearing that this factory specialized in producing it, they all wanted to see how the powder was actually made. One by one, brimming with curiosity, they followed Ji Tuisie to observe modern fertilizer production.

Lingao First Fertilizer Plant boasted an impressive name and occupied considerable land, but currently only the ten-thousand-ton superphosphate line and four-thousand-ton sulfuric acid support project had been completed. Large swaths of idle ground remained within the factory boundaries, reserved for future expansion.

The superphosphate production line required substantial quantities of sulfuric acid. Based on annual production capacity of ten thousand tons, thirty-eight hundred tons of sulfuric acid were needed each year. Such volumes could not rely on transport from the existing sulfuric acid plant and coal coking combined facility. First, the chemical sector lacked containers capable of long-distance, safe, large-volume transport. Second, the three acids and two alkalis were fundamental chemical products—from that perspective, more production capacity was always better. Though the sulfuric acid plant and coal coking facility could produce large quantities, demand existed everywhere. For an enterprise like the fertilizer plant requiring stable year-round supply, building its own integrated facilities made more sense.

The superphosphate production line comprised three workshops: a fourteen-by-seven-meter drying workshop, a fourteen-by-ten-meter acidulation workshop, and a twenty-four-and-a-half-by-ten-meter packaging workshop. Equipment included ten major sets: a thirty-square-meter drying pit, a two-and-a-half-square-meter vibrating screen, a semi-continuous acidulation chamber, a bucket elevator, a sulfuric acid head tank, and a mixing pot. The facility's staff quota was one hundred fifty workers, covering an area of 0.264 hectares.

This project required fifty-six hundred tons of phosphate rock annually, prompting the Planning Commission to arrange a dedicated two-hundred-ton transport vessel shuttling back and forth to bring guano from the Xisha Islands. Additionally, the original ten kilowatt-hours of electricity consumption per ton had been entirely converted to steam engine power, requiring thousands of tons of coal annually.

The thirty-eight hundred tons of sulfuric acid raw material came from the supporting four-thousand-ton sulfuric acid workshop. This facility covered thirty-three by sixteen meters, with a staff quota of fifty workers. It required forty-eight hundred ninety-two tons of pyrite annually—also transported by a dedicated two-hundred-ton vessel from the Shangen Pyrite Mine in Wanning. The four hundred forty thousand kilowatt-hours of annual electricity needed conversion to equivalent steam power—estimated to consume four thousand tons of coal. Additionally, four hundred thousand tons of industrial water were required each year.

The visiting crowd watched the huge steel machines operating in continuous motion. The sulfur smell was pungent, nearly unbearable. Piles of gray-white rock and dust were continuously fed into the giant steel maws, ultimately emerging as "field-fattening powder" that would increase yields when applied. They could somewhat grasp composting as practiced by Tiandihui—after all, compost was simply another form of farm manure. But this business of increasing production using nothing but pulverized stone fell entirely beyond their comprehension.

The spectacle struck everyone with awe. Contemplating how the Chiefs held giant forces and hardened iron in their palms, seizing the very mechanism of creation, they felt not only reverence but an even greater longing for Lingao's bright future. Their confidence in their own fortunes and their families' prospects deepened further still.

But for Ji Tuisie, the current situation was far from beautiful. Industrial upgrading demanded chemical products in too many places. From equipment manufacturing to military industry, from agriculture to medicine—nearly every sector submitted demands to the chemical industry. Yet the chemical sector could presently satisfy very few of these requests. Even for products they could manufacture, most suffered from insufficient capacity.

The first constraint was materials. Chemical production equipment required numerous corrosion-resistant materials and specialty steels. At present, their metallurgical industry was fundamentally incapable of supplying these; they had to rely extensively on ceramics and glass as manufacturing materials for chemical equipment. Though both offered good corrosion resistance and abundant sourcing, their mechanical properties and processability were limited. They could only be used to manufacture small equipment and substitute components. This left most of Lingao's newly built chemical enterprises resembling nothing more than laboratory production scaled up several times.

Moreover, the chemical department lacked sufficient manpower. Chemical plants were high-pollution environments prone to work injuries—hundreds were killed or maimed in various accidents each year. The appearance of the casualties was often horrifying. Under Lingao's current medical capabilities, most chemical accident victims could not survive; those barely saved were typically left with moderate to severe disabilities.

Despite strict information blackouts regarding accidents and generous compensation, many naturalized citizens who knew even a little about conditions inside remained unwilling to work in chemical plants. The only option was to assign indentured laborers—people with no personal freedom—to chemical enterprises. Had Operation Engine not delivered a large influx of such laborers, Ji Tuisie's expansion plans would have faced immediate paralysis.

Trapped by enormous demand, inferior equipment, untrained workers, frequent accidents, and intermittent raw material supply, Ji Tuisie had worried himself gray.

After the production line tour concluded and the Tiandihui visitors departed on their own, Wu Nanhai and Ji Tuisie took the "Commuter Train" back to Bairen City together.

Seeing Ji Tuisie's expression had grown relatively relaxed, Wu Nanhai produced a "Chuqing Limited Edition" cigar and offered it over. Seizing the opportunity, he said: "Old Ji, I've heard that ammonium bicarbonate production is relatively straightforward. As long as you have anthracite, it's manageable. And it's better suited to the acidic soil here than ammonium sulfate. Do you think we could set up a dedicated line next? Our nitrogen fertilizer gap is also quite substantial now..."

"Old Wu, you think we haven't considered this? Back when the CCP developed small chemical fertilizers, many were ammonium bicarbonate projects. We have no anthracite supply problems now. But the problem has circled right back." Ji Tuisie lit the cigar and spoke with fervor: "Our eight-hundred-ton synthetic ammonia uses Hou Debang's combined carbon method, common in small nitrogen fertilizer plants. Otherwise, where do you suppose the ammonium bicarbonate we're currently providing comes from?"

The chemical plant's current eight-hundred-ton synthetic ammonia project employed the combined carbon method invented by Hou Debang in 1958. The synthesis process used anthracite as raw material to first produce semi-water gas. After removing hydrogen sulfide, this entered the pressurized shift reaction system to yield a mixed gas of nitrogen, hydrogen, and carbon dioxide. The mixed gas entered the carbonization tower, where carbon dioxide reacted with approximately seventeen percent concentration ammonia water to form ammonium bicarbonate crystals, which were then separated by centrifuge to obtain the ammonium bicarbonate product.

The feed gas, after carbon dioxide removal and further treatment to eliminate residual carbon dioxide and trace carbon monoxide, entered the ammonia synthesis system to produce ammonia water.

Ammonia water could either enter the carbonization tower to manufacture ammonium bicarbonate or leave the factory as raw material for other chemical products.

This combined method also produced small quantities of sulfuric acid simultaneously—a production approach with low energy consumption and high output.

Wu Nanhai's disappointment was palpable: "So it still comes down to synthetic ammonia production scale."

"Precisely." Ji Tuisie nodded. "Without synthetic ammonia, we either find a channel to import saltpeter steadily from the mainland—which seems unlikely; even if the Ming Dynasty turns a blind eye and routes remain open, production capacity in this timeline cannot meet our needs—or we establish a trans-Pacific Chilean saltpeter maritime route immediately..."

"That's even more impossible." Wu Nanhai shook his head. "We still have to establish our own mining operations."

"Exactly. So only one path remains: light up the tech tree for self-produced synthetic ammonia equipment as quickly as possible and expand capacity." Ji Tuisie spoke meaningfully: "The equipment manufacturing industry remains the foundation of everything."

"You're absolutely right." Wu Nanhai said, "I believe everyone understands this principle. It should be emphasized more often in meetings."

Ji Tuisie smiled. "Let's set aside equipment problems for now. Just take this factory's four-thousand-ton sulfuric acid support project. It's planned to use pyrite, requiring five thousand tons annually. But the Shangen Pyrite Mine in Wanning County—currently our only operational source—had a maximum historical output of just over a thousand tons per year. It wouldn't be enough even if we gave the entire production to the existing sulfuric acid plant. Even if Shangen reaches its historical maximum immediately next year, I still don't know where to find this five-thousand-ton gap..."

Wu Nanhai broke into a cold sweat listening. If sulfuric acid support proved insufficient, wouldn't his ten thousand tons of annual superphosphate production collapse? He asked urgently:

"Are there no other pyrite mines in Hainan?"

"There are, but mining and transportation are inconvenient. Conditions aren't as favorable as Shangen: dig it out by the shore, load directly onto rail cars to the waterfront, and onto ships." Ji Tuisie puffed his cigar. "The Planning Commission's view is to first expand Shangen Pyrite Mine extraction, then import natural sulfur from Taiwan..."

Taiwan, the Ryukyu Islands, and the Japanese archipelago, owing to relatively active geological conditions, possessed large deposits of natural sulfur ore. It had already become an important export commodity by the Qing Dynasty.

"Large-scale natural sulfur imports would be welcome. We have substantial demand for sulfur in agriculture as well."

"It's mainly a question of shipping capacity and manpower. Speaking of Taiwan, Hualien has abundant serpentine—if that could be mined and transported back at scale, using the blast furnace method to manufacture calcium magnesium phosphate fertilizer would be much simpler than superphosphate, and wouldn't require a supporting sulfuric acid project..."

"Taiwan truly is a land of treasure."

...

The two chatted all the way. Soon they reached their respective stations. It was already three in the afternoon when Wu Nanhai returned to the Agricultural Committee office. He sat down, retrieved a black leather confidential memorandum from a locked drawer—reserved for recording relatively sensitive and important matters—and wrote a paragraph of notes within.

(End of Chapter)