Chapter Ten: Visiting the Yang Family

"Xiaoyue, I saw your Grandpa Li today," Director Yang said, putting down the clothes and speaking to Yang Yue.

"Oh, really? Did Grandpa Li say anything?" Yang Yue looked up, putting aside her task.

This was the same Yang Yue whom Yang Hui always found indifferent—a short-haired woman with a high nose bridge, giving her a hint of foreign ancestry. Her grandmother had once been a Russian noble stranded in the Northeast, who later married Yang Yue's grandfather, a scholar at the time. Thus, Yang Yue became the so-called legendary mixed-blood, though now, after her mother's generation diluted the lineage, there was little visible difference. Nevertheless, Yang Yue was undeniably a beautiful woman.

Seeing Yang Yue’s uninterested expression, Director Yang decided to throw out something she cared about, feigning a cough and walking further inside.

"Well, he didn't say much... but I also saw Yang Hui. He's back," Director Yang revealed the news casually.

Sure enough, at this, Yang Yue immediately looked up, then seemed to remember something and tried to appear unconcerned.

"That guy's back? He lied to me and still dares to return. Let’s see where he runs off to this time," she muttered, her voice trailing off.

Others might not know, but Director Yang, who had watched both Yang Yue and Yang Hui grow up, understood what Yang Yue felt. Still, he couldn’t expose young people's feelings, and he’d done all he could—now, it was up to fate.

"Anyway, he won’t be staying in Beijing for long. He’ll be leaving for work soon, so don’t worry, he won’t linger under your nose," Director Yang stopped in the hallway, turned, and smiled at Yang Yue.

A few years ago, hearing this would have genuinely pleased Yang Yue, but since moving to Nanjing, she found herself missing Yang Hui ever more. Eventually, she understood her own heart, knowing whom she truly cared for. She realized her budding feelings for Yang Hui.

After a long silence, she gathered her courage. "Grandpa, he really doesn’t plan to stay in Beijing?"

"Yes. I’ve heard his thoughts. It’s the best choice for him."

"Oh, well, who knows where he plans to go," Yang Yue muttered absentmindedly, standing up and walking inside.

"Hey, girl, he hasn’t decided yet. I told him to come to our house tomorrow to talk. You’ll know then," Director Yang quickly added, hoping to lift Yang Yue’s spirits. His only granddaughter was dear to him.

Yang Yue gave no reaction, continuing into the inner room. "Alright, I’ll ask him when he comes. I want some quiet now."

...

"Xiao Hui, mind your manners at Uncle Yang’s house," the old man reminded Yang Hui before he left.

Yang Hui saw the old man’s serious face, feeling the urge to laugh but unable to. The old man was concerned about his future, after all. Yang Hui nodded, took the liquor, and left, feeling uneasy—not about work, as Uncle Yang had connections, and changing jobs wasn't complicated.

The real issue was that, with guidance from two elders, Yang Hui finally understood Yang Yue’s situation. Knowing was one thing—what to do was another. For now, he hadn’t figured out how to handle the favor of such a beauty.

...

The residential compound was neither big nor small, but Yang Hui, lost in thought, soon found himself at Director Yang’s door.

He was about to knock.

"Ah, Xiao Hui, what a coincidence! I just got back as well. Come in!" Director Yang took out his key, opened the door, and went inside.

"Xiaoyue, Xiaoyue, what are you doing? Xiao Hui’s here, come out! This girl, really..." Director Yang shook his head, noticing the liquor in Yang Hui’s hand. He immediately recognized its origin, having coveted it for ages. He’d never seen the old man at Yang Hui’s house bring it out for guests before, so he smiled at Yang Hui.

"Maybe she’s just shy," Yang Hui joked when he heard Yang Yue wasn’t around, but things weren’t as he expected.

Yang Yue emerged from the kitchen, holding a knife, standing with a gentle expression.

"Yes, I am a bit shy, so when I heard you were coming, I hid in the kitchen. See, I haven’t even put down the knife yet," she said, waving it, the gleaming blade flashing in Yang Hui’s face.

Yang Hui was startled, nearly speechless. He thought she wouldn't be here, but now she appeared—surely this was awkward. Yet, perhaps he was overthinking.

Director Yang watched Yang Yue's behavior, "Xiaoyue, what's going on? Behave yourself. If you're cooking, get to it. Do it well and show Xiao Hui what you can do."

Yang Yue pondered, glanced at Yang Hui’s expression, and burst out laughing.

"Yang Hui, did you really think I’d chop you up? Let me tell you, Nanjing is a wonderful place—I’ve learned to be more gentle there," her words sounded both like an explanation and a gratitude for Yang Hui's deception.

She blinked, smiled, and turned back to the kitchen.

"Ah, Xiao Hui, Xiaoyue’s grandmother is at Xiaoyue’s mother’s house today, so we’ll only have Xiaoyue’s cooking tonight. But I’ve had it before—pretty good," Director Yang reminisced, and it seemed more than just “pretty good.”

"Well, no matter how good her cooking, she’ll eventually marry and cook for someone else. The old man won’t get many chances to eat it, so I’d better make the most of it," he said, eyeing Yang Hui as if to say, "You’re lucky, kid."

Clearly, Director Yang had some grievances—this was an issue.

"But really, we should thank you, Xiao Hui. You tricked Xiaoyue into going to Nanjing, and she learned a lot there—she’s prettier, her cooking is better, and even her temperament is more gentle. You did well," Director Yang said.

Yang Hui wished he could disappear—he’d tricked the granddaughter into moving thousands of kilometers away, and now her family was thanking him.

"Come inside, let me look at your file."

Yang Hui handed over his records.

...

"So, you studied this in college. The school's assessment is interesting. Looks like you need some grassroots experience—things aren't as easy as you think. But even Old Wu wrote you a recommendation letter, so overall, you're pretty good," Director Yang said, putting the file away.

He turned, picked up a document, and began writing, asking as he wrote, "Xiao Hui, where do you plan to go, or what job are you looking for?"

Yang Hui had long made up his mind. He absolutely wouldn’t stay in the capital, and wouldn’t go to Fengtian either—as someone reborn from the future, it would be a waste. As the leader of the Republic’s aviation industry, it was normal for some internal hierarchy issues to exist—how else would they live up to their reputation?

As for Chang’an, he graduated there, so if he wanted to work there, he wouldn't have come back so soon. Not that Xi’an was bad—it was just that its focus was on large aircraft development, which drew heavy national attention and made work difficult.

That left the basic options: Sichuan and Yunnan-Guizhou, and Hunan-West. Bingcheng made helicopters, but that wasn’t his interest. Sichuan’s aviation industry would rise in decades, so no need to get involved now.

After eliminating most, only the 0011 base on the Yunnan-Guizhou plateau remained, with a good engine plant. Remote, but life there was tough—tight, barely scraping by. In the future, if not for a key trainer aircraft developed just in time, it might have faded away.

"Yes, Uncle Yang, I’ve thought it through. I plan to check out the aviation engine factory first."

A silence followed...

"What made you choose engine development? It’s not quite your field," Director Yang was puzzled by Yang Hui's decision.

This was absurd. Not staying in the capital was one thing, but going to another place based on his opinion was already democratic enough. Now, he was even switching fields—time for some parental authority.

"Well, Uncle Yang, you might not know—I majored in aerodynamics, but I studied more than that. I audited engine courses too, as Old Wu mentioned in the file," Yang Hui explained.

"Besides, engine research needs aerodynamics. Those blades, after all, are all shaped by airflow."

That made sense—engine work had aerodynamic demands, and Yang Hui had studied engine knowledge, so working at an engine institute wasn’t impossible.

"Alright, then. There are only a few engine factories in the country. Why not go to the Fengtian engine research institute? Xiaoyue will be at the Fengtian aircraft factory, so you’ll have someone to look out for you," Director Yang generously offered the strongest domestic research institute.

But the way he said it sounded like there was another motive. He really worried about these two kids—arranging jobs in the same city.

Unfortunately, Director Yang’s hopes were about to be dashed. "Uncle Yang, I’ll be direct—I want to go to the 0011 base’s second institute. I think it’ll be more challenging there," Yang Hui said, not wanting to beat around the bush.

"What? You want to go there? Do you know what it’s like?"