Chapter Thirty-six: Let Me Do It

Today was a rather leisurely day, with nothing urgent needing attention. That’s how things often were at the institute. Director Bai decided to head over to the First Institute to discuss the new model aircraft with Chief Engineer Yu Ximing. A few days ago, he’d listened to Yang Hui’s suggestion, and the more he thought about it, the better it seemed. With nothing pressing today, it was the perfect opportunity to visit and communicate further.

Early in the morning, he found a car heading to the First Institute and caught a ride; it was always better to save where possible. The institute’s old jeep could remain idle for now.

He eventually arrived at the First Institute by ten o’clock, and, as he’d hoped, found Chief Engineer Yu Ximing in the director’s office. Yu was still engrossed in some writing, so Bai waited a few minutes until he finished.

“Chief Engineer Yu, I’m here to trouble you today. Busy man, as always,” Bai said.

The First Institute had a trainer aircraft project that was going quite well; at least it was enough to keep things afloat. Bai envied them—after all, projects meant funding.

It was only then that Bai noticed another person in the office. Judging by the voice, it was the director of the Second Institute, an old acquaintance of many years. Hearing his friend tease him, Bai naturally had to respond, despite both being men in their fifties.

“Oh, you say that as if you wouldn’t be chief engineer if you had a project. But for now, I’m chief engineer, and you’ll just have to wait for the next project from above.”

His words struck directly at Bai’s sore spot—not malicious, but certainly pointed. Bai was annoyed, but he wasn’t one to let things go without a retort.

“Heh, I’m chief engineer too now. We’re developing an engine project with our own funds, and I’m the team leader.” He spoke with satisfaction, a smile on his face.

But wait—a self-funded project? Surely he meant the model jet engine project. For a director of a military engine research institute to call himself chief engineer of a model aircraft project—his skill with words was impressive. To give such a minor project the title of chief engineer! If Yang Hui heard this, he’d surely laugh himself breathless.

It was clear Chief Engineer Yu Ximing guessed what project Bai was referring to, and he struggled to suppress his laughter.

“All right, all right, we’re both chief engineers now. Let’s leave that aside and talk business.” After a good laugh, Yu decided to move on.

Since Yu wasn’t interested in further banter, Bai was relieved and eager to discuss serious matters. He poured himself a glass of water, found a seat, took a sip to steady himself, then began.

“So, what do you think about the matter I mentioned the other day?”

Though older, their minds were still sharp from years of research. Yu immediately recalled their phone conversation from a few days prior.

“That? I went to ask a few people yesterday, but everyone said they’re too busy. Since this is a private project, and our institute has a major project underway, no one wants to take it on.”

Yu was helpless. He’d thought the model aircraft project would be simple, something a few people could handle. If they completed it, the Second Institute had promised to share thirty percent of future profits with the First Institute—a significant sum that could greatly improve staff welfare.

Clearly, the First Institute hadn’t yet felt the downturn hitting the defense industry. Money from the model aircraft was seen as a bonus rather than necessity.

He understood that the First Institute wasn’t short on projects, only on people, but hadn’t expected things to be quite this dire—no one was willing to take it on. Both directors were stumped.

Bai felt particularly awkward. He’d come to discuss the aircraft’s shape and specifications, but now there wasn’t even anyone willing to lead the project, much less select a model.

He even considered having his own institute build the airframe, but quickly abandoned the idea. After all, his institute specialized in engines, not aircraft; they lacked both personnel and experience. Of course, he’d forgotten about Yang Hui’s talents, though the standards for the model were indeed high.

“How about this? I’ll ask around again, see if anyone might be interested. If not, I’ll see if any of the new university graduates are willing. Whoever steps up will be chief engineer—I refuse to believe someone can resist that temptation.”

He spoke casually, but Bai shivered at the thought. Chief engineer again—was this some kind of joke?

Regardless, the promise to ask again was progress; as long as there was hope.

“Ah, asking again is good. This batch of graduates is quite impressive, full of ideas. Our institute’s model jet project was actually proposed by the young man who was here the day the aircraft accident happened; now he’s in charge of the project.”

At this, the director recalled Yang Hui, the promising new graduate. The institute still had hope.

Hearing this, Chief Engineer Yu naturally remembered the accident scene—the young man who first ran to address the crash, and the improved aerodynamic sketch for the trainer jet that Yu had carefully pieced together after tearing it in anger.

He had to admit, this was a remarkable young man: brave, talented—perhaps even Wu’s last disciple.

Suddenly, Yu thought of a possibility. The more he considered it, the more plausible it seemed. He burst out laughing, leaving Bai puzzled.

“Hey, Yu, what’s so funny? If you’ve got something, share the joke.”

Since Bai asked, Yu continued, “Haha, when you mentioned Yang Hui just now, it struck me. He left a deep impression, especially with that sketch.”

But surely that wasn’t enough to make him laugh so heartily—it wasn’t as if the higher-ups had suddenly approved funding based on a sketch, which was impossible. Whatever Bai thought, the real reason for Yu’s amusement was soon revealed.

“Yang Hui has another identity you might not know—he’s likely to become the First Institute’s son-in-law. So, we should approach his girlfriend, Yang Yue, first. We’ll say Yang Hui proposed the model project and is responsible for the propulsion system, then explain the situation.”

With an “I’m sure you get it” look, Yu left Bai thoroughly impressed. Truly a capable man—after all, anyone who could get the trainer jet transferred from Factory 132 was much smarter than himself.

“It’s nearly time to finish work. Now it’s up to us two old men to persuade Yang Yue. Ah, to outmaneuver Director Yang’s granddaughter for once—I can be proud.” Laughing, he stood and called Bai to join him in finding Yang Yue.

...

“Come, Yang Yue, step outside a moment, we need to talk,” Chief Engineer Yu called to Yang Yue outside her project team’s office, ready to deliver some good news.

“I’m here to tell you something good—your boyfriend Yang Hui has been promoted at the Second Institute; he’s now a project leader.”

To lure Yang Yue, he first had to deliver positive news about Yang Hui, then move on to other matters.

Confusion—real confusion. A chief engineer, with so many daily responsibilities, came especially to tell her: your boyfriend’s been promoted, doing well.

It didn’t make sense no matter how she thought about it, so she could only look at Yu in puzzlement.

“But, his project has run into some difficulties.” As expected, the good news was followed by the bad; it all needed to be said.

“That’s right, there’s a small problem; we need the First Institute’s help.” Director Bai chimed in unexpectedly, adding just the right touch.

At this, Yang Yue finally began to understand, though not the specifics, so she continued watching the two directors’ performance.

“But you see, our staff are all busy, and no one wants to take it on. I can’t force anyone, so I decided to come to you.”

“And this project is very important—it concerns the Second Institute’s survival, and Yang Hui’s future.” Remarkable—she never knew Director Bai could be so persuasive, tying the Second Institute’s fate to this project.

At last, Yang Yue understood what was happening and could raise her own question. “What exactly is this project? Let me see. If it’s not a problem, I’ll take it.”

That was the answer they wanted. The two directors, whose ages combined exceeded a hundred, were truly moved—finally, someone would take on the project.

Hurriedly, Bai explained, “The project’s simple: we want to make model aircraft for sale, to supplement funding for both institutes. So it’s a private project; most people aren’t interested, since it doesn’t sound prestigious. But rest assured, the Second Institute fully supports it.”

Before he finished, Yang Yue understood. “All right, directors, I’ll take the project.”

...