Chapter Thirty-Three: Copying That Plane Is Best (Part Two)

"Director, I believe we shouldn't limit our vision to just the domestic market. We ought to have an international perspective. We can use the designs of foreign aircraft—whichever foreign plane is attractive and popular, we should adopt its appearance." As he spoke, Yang Hui wore an expression of utter confidence. Let the art of imitation flourish ahead of its time; as long as I can make money, why worry about copyrights? Besides, it seems no country ever patents the aerodynamic shape of aircraft.

"You make a good point. I can't refute it. My outlook is indeed too narrow," the director replied with a smile.

"Go ahead and share what you've already considered. I trust you must have more than one aircraft proposal ready before coming here," the director said, cutting straight to the chase, having guessed Yang Hui certainly had his own plans.

At this moment, Yang Hui genuinely felt torn about which aircraft would most catch the eye. There were simply too many options, leaving him dazzled. After a pause, he decided it was best to lay out the two most difficult choices. Ultimately, the tough decision should fall to the director; after all, it was his role to make the final call, not some low-ranking soldier.

"Director, I've been wrestling with this. Out of all the proposals, I'm stuck on the last two. Let me share them with you, and in the end, it will be up to you."

He took up his pen and roughly sketched a variable-sweep wing aircraft, then pointed to the drawing. "This is my first idea: the Tornado, jointly developed by several European nations. It isn't the most handsome, but it's used by quite a few countries—mostly European ones—and that's the crowd at the Paris Air Show, which draws the largest audience each year."

Examining Yang Hui's rough illustration, the director felt it was a good likeness of the Tornado he knew. On reflection, capitalist countries did make rather attractive aircraft. Hadn't old Dassault said, "A beautiful plane is always a good plane"?

"You want to launch a model of this aircraft, using its popularity across countries to boost sales?"

No matter how he considered it, the director could only find that one outstanding advantage for this plane. Yet sometimes one advantage is all it takes for success. He pondered further, tapping his fingers on the desk to express his contemplation.

"Ah, didn't you say you had two options? Share the other one; let me see what it is."

Yang Hui turned his notebook, drew a three-view, then a rendering. Satisfied, he set his pen down and pushed the notebook across the desk, offering a mysterious smile. In truth, he considered this his real trump card; once unveiled, it would surely grab attention and bring in precious foreign exchange.

The director looked at the drawing and was baffled; he'd never seen a plane like this. Foreign aircraft didn't seem to have such a design. Rack his brains as he might, nothing matched this configuration.

"What kind of plane is this? It seems no country currently operates such an aircraft?"

The blueprint depicted a classic third-generation fighter: twin engines, twin vertical stabilizers, a highly integrated wing-body, a slightly drooping nose, mid-fuselage air intakes, and a central lift body layout. Indeed, it was a classic Russian design, long stationed on the front lines of East-West confrontation—a fighter the West had always feared, entering service in 1983.

It was Mikoyan-Gurevich’s masterpiece: the MiG-29. To be honest, it didn’t look as striking as the later Su-27, but at this time it was a charismatic king of popularity, its reputation still intact.

"Mikoyan’s new plane, the MiG-29, first flew in '77 and is about to enter service this year. I believe it will be deployed on Europe's front lines. Revealing it now will definitely catch the public’s eye, and as for the Soviet response, they won’t say much—since it’s about to enter service, its shape can no longer be kept secret."

Hearing "MiG-29," the director didn’t immediately recognize which plane was meant. But recalling that it was a new Mikoyan design, he suddenly remembered some internal intelligence from years ago—a blurry photo, unclear at the time. Now, comparing the sketch, he had a vivid impression.

Looking closer, he thought it was indeed beautiful—a good-looking aircraft, as Dassault would say, surely a good one, especially as a Mikoyan creation.

"It seems pretty good. Are you banking on this to grab European attention?"

Gazing at the MiG-29's drawing, the director pondered what to do. Both planes seemed likely to become hits, but for now, only one could be made; choosing correctly was crucial at this juncture.

Deep in thought, the director unconsciously reached for a cigarette, but found the pack empty, so he set it aside in resignation.

Staring at the two aircraft designs, the director fell into deep contemplation, unable to decide which to pick. Both were excellent, both had reasons to succeed.

"Well, Yang Hui! Sit down, will you? Why are you standing? Sit, sit, sit. I want to ask which one you truly think is better. Speak boldly; I’m giving you the chance."

Those in authority always have their ways. When their own abilities fall short, they dare to rely on someone just a bit more capable. Now, the director returned the problem Yang Hui had raised right back to him.

Choosing between the Tornado and MiG-29 for a model had always troubled Yang Hui. He’d meant for the director to decide, but the director found it hard to make up his mind as well.

Turning the matter over and over, Yang Hui finally steeled himself. He would abandon the MiG-29, and he had his reasons.

"Director, after much consideration, my personal inclination is to forsake the MiG-29 and make the Tornado."

Having made his choice, the director relaxed, leaning back in his chair. He picked up his teacup and took a gentle sip.

"Explain your reasoning. I couldn’t decide myself, but I’d like to hear why you favor the Tornado."

"It’s actually quite simple. Thinking about models, we have to consider future development. If we start with the Tornado, it's easy to follow up with aircraft using similar aerodynamic layouts, like the F-111 or the US Navy’s mainstay F-14."

Though Yang Hui made it sound simple, the decision had been difficult. Variable-sweep wing technology is quite complex—even for a model, it still needs to fly. The MiG-29, by contrast, is a straightforward fixed-wing, embodying the ruggedness of Russian fighters, and should perform well.

Yet these two points couldn’t outweigh the advantages of the swept-wing. Following this development path, the F-111 could be sold in North America, and later, the F-14 would emerge around 1986-87. By then, "Top Gun," one of the most iconic films of the 1980s, would be released, creating a legion of Tomcat fans and boosting F-14 model sales. That was the real reason Yang Hui ultimately chose the variable-sweep wing.

Of course, the MiG-29 could eventually lead to the Su-27 line, and later the Su-30, Su-33, Su-35, Su-37. The Su-27, though it entered service in '85, only became widely known after the 1987 Barents Sea "air surgeon" incident, having been kept highly secret at first—the West always regarded it as a successor to the MiG-29. So it would be best to wait until after '87 to release it; putting it on shelves too early would be a slap in the face to the Soviets. Considering timing, the Tornado line was still best.

"You mean to develop a Tornado model, then follow up with the F-111 and F-14, making things easier?"

Hearing Yang Hui’s reasoning, the director was quite impressed. Models couldn’t stay stuck on one design; new models must be launched, and having a consistent technical lineage made sense.

"Alright, let’s do as you suggest. I’ll inform the folks at the first institute. They’re busy, so they probably haven’t started much yet."

This young man had ideas—his thinking was wild, always providing fresh perspectives. His starting points were always unique. Perhaps, when faced with thorny problems in the future, he could serve as a strategist. With this thought, the director’s view of Yang Hui changed; he was no longer just a new subordinate, but now a trusted advisor.

"Alright, that's settled. It’s already past office hours."

Hearing that the day was done, Yang Hui took his leave and departed.