Chapter Forty-One: So This Is What Was Happening

Ever since the director called Yang Hui in and told him to help out with the airframe design team as much as possible—and that, when the time was right, the combustion chamber project here could be handed over to the institute’s “regulars,” namely the combustion chamber division where Yang Hui had briefly worked—he had agreed readily. Yet Yang Hui believed his own design approach was both reliable and excellent; handing over the subsequent work to the combustion chamber division might well result in the project being derailed. If he gave his current design to those professionals, they’d likely overhaul it beyond recognition. After all, if the combustion chamber division were to take over, there was no way they’d end up with something as simple and low-efficiency as what Yang Hui had come up with; they’d inevitably design it according to the institute’s military engine standards.

Because of this, Yang Hui had spent four whole days working overtime. Even when he returned to the dormitory at night, he brought tasks with him, burning the midnight oil to finalize the overall design of the combustion chamber. He wanted to ensure that, when the time came, only the finishing touches and testing would be left for the division to handle.

The after-effects of four consecutive days of intense work were plainly visible in Yang Hui’s appearance. At the very least, his dark circles were unavoidable as he yawned his way toward the design institute’s office building.

At last, the work was done. Yang Hui stepped into his office and fetched the week’s harvest—a stack of data at least as thick as a new dictionary. Looking at the pile of documents, he could not help but feel a surge of pride. In this day and age, completing the entire design for an engine combustion chamber in a week, without computer assistance, was truly a testament to both talent and perseverance.

With practiced hands, he divided the thick stack of documents into several parts, sorted last night’s “homework,” and, fighting off sleepiness, forced himself up from his chair. Grabbing the documents, he headed for the combustion chamber division.

What Yang Hui didn’t know was that, as soon as he left, everyone in his office simultaneously set down their work and watched their deputy leader walk out. In these past four days, Yang Hui had, through his actions, won over this group of newly-graduated, proud young talents.

Sometimes, winning someone over is an arduous task; at other times, it is surprisingly simple. The key lies in whether others are willing to buy into your approach—find the right method, and it becomes easy.

In fact, it was just as simple within the entire model aircraft power system project team. As the project’s planner and de facto leader of power system R&D, Yang Hui was, on the surface, in a position of authority—he was the leader. To win subordinates over, to earn their obedience, one must dispel their disdain—specifically, their doubts about their leader’s abilities.

Yang Hui had now demonstrated his competence through action. With the same engine subproject, he was the first to complete the R&D, pulling four consecutive all-nighters—a clear display of his abilities.

Seeing Team Leader Yang leave with his documents, the team members understood that the overall design was finished. Such swift results showcased not only speed and perseverance, but also capability. At least, that’s what Zhong Jianxue, who had also been working overtime for five days, believed. As for dark circles, his were no less pronounced than Yang Hui’s, but he simply couldn’t match Yang’s efficiency—he’d only completed 40% of his work, lagging far behind.

Long after Yang Hui left, the five of them were filled with admiration and awe, which soon turned into motivation. Heads down once more, they diligently scribbled calculations. The team leader had already produced results—they couldn’t afford to hold the project back. Should they perhaps consult the division’s experts right from the start?

Meanwhile, Yang Hui, half-dazed, arrived at the combustion chamber division, habitually pushed open the door, and sat down at his old spot, slumping his documents carelessly onto the desk.

“Hey, Yang Hui, you’re a rare guest today—so you haven’t forgotten about us after all,” said Wu Dabo, the division chief who had always held Yang Hui in high regard, and who was also the first to notice his weary state.

Hearing Wu Dabo—Division Chief Wu—call his name, Yang Hui snapped awake. It was time to discuss business, so he mustered his energy and sat up straight.

“I’ve come to ask the division for some help—I’m overloaded with tasks right now,” he said.

“I can see that. You’ve been burning the midnight oil, haven’t you?” Wu Dabo already knew about the model aircraft project—the director had briefed him a few days ago and asked him to support Yang Hui’s work. Still, seeing Yang Hui so exhausted and driven, Wu Dabo was genuinely curious to see how far he’d gotten with the project.

Recognizing that his exhaustion was obvious, Yang Hui didn’t bother with false modesty. After all, losing sleep for the sake of work was nothing shameful.

“Yes, I’ve been working late nights. But now I’ve finally calculated the main data and structural model.”

At this, Wu Dabo was taken aback. For one person to nearly complete the main engineering for a new engine in just a week—was that even possible? It was almost unbelievable.

He strode over to Yang Hui’s desk, pointing in disbelief at the stack of documents. “You produced all this in a week?”

Though incredulous, seeing that thick pile of documents convinced him about seventy or eighty percent. The only thing left to confirm was whether all this work had truly been done by one person.

Seeing Wu Dabo pointing at the stack, Yang Hui replied in a weary voice, “That’s right, it’s all here. I’ve completed most of it—the combustion chamber’s curved surfaces, optimal combustion temperature range, the main components, overall design, and some sketches.”

Unable to believe it, Wu Dabo picked up the stack to check the quality of the work.

“Let me take a look at your results. Why don’t you get some sleep? You look in no state to discuss details.” With that, he headed to his own desk. It would take some time to get a sense of all that material.

Since Wu Dabo wanted to review the documents, Yang Hui was only too happy to comply, and promptly put his head down for a deep sleep.

One sleeping, one reading—time slipped by unnoticed, and before they knew it, it was lunchtime. In other words, Yang Hui had spent the whole morning sleeping at work, while Division Chief Wu had spent the morning poring over the documents.

“Wake up, Yang Hui—it’s time for lunch,” Wu Dabo called, having finished his review.

“Let’s go eat,” he said, seeing that Yang Hui was awake and it was about time. As division chief, he naturally declared the lunch break.

Though Wu Dabo was already married, both worked at the institute, so they each ate at their respective canteens. With one member dispatched to Yang Yue’s team for airframe design, the division had three people left; with Yang Hui, four headed for the cafeteria.

“Division Chief Wu, do you see any issues with the documents?” Yang Hui asked on the way, not wanting to waste time. If there were only minor problems, he could address them in the afternoon; after all, he’d spent the whole morning sleeping during work hours, and though he’d done so many times before, he still felt a twinge of guilt.

Wu Dabo, having just finished reading, saw plenty of issues, but wasn’t sure how to phrase them yet. “It’s hard to say at the moment. Let’s wait until this afternoon and have a detailed discussion in the office. There’s a lot to digest.”

Yang Hui’s design was distinctive, chiefly because he used an annular combustion chamber design, which suited Wu Dabo’s taste. And some elements, thanks to Yang Hui’s knowledge of future developments, were ahead of domestic design standards.

Wu Dabo needed time to think through the aspects he didn’t quite understand—detailed engineering is not something that can be grasped in a flash; it takes time to ponder and digest.

Since Wu Dabo said as much, Yang Hui had nothing to add. He’d wait for the afternoon session. There was no rush—better to eat in peace.

“Yang Hui, you’re here too,” someone called out.

“Yueyue, it’s lunchtime, so of course I’m here. Aren’t you also here?” Yang Hui replied.

The institute was small, and the cafeteria even smaller. If you came at the same time, you were bound to run into each other—as was the case now.

“That’s true. When will you be free? I still need you to work on the model’s surface curves,” she said.

Although the Republic’s intelligence agencies had data on the Tornado jet, it was limited to flight parameters, flight envelopes, and combat capabilities—details that were semi-public among pilots. But as for the precise dimensions and surface features, that information was unavailable; only the manufacturers had such specifics.

Of course, general dimensions—length, height, wingspan—were accessible, but when it came to details like surface curvature or sweep angle, those were hard to obtain.

“Soon. I’ve almost finished my part. This afternoon, after I hand over my documents to Division Chief Wu, I can join your team,” Yang Hui replied, introducing Wu Dabo to Yang Yue as they walked.

“Hello, I’m in charge of combustion chamber design here. My name’s Wu Dabo,” he said, quick to introduce himself.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yang Yue, transferred over from the First Division. I look forward to working with you,” she replied.

Wu Dabo, of course, had heard of Yang Yue. When the director had reassigned a member from his division, he’d been told all about her, and the model aircraft project had been announced at the institute.

“Don’t worry. Once Yang Hui hands over his documents this afternoon, he’ll be able to work with you. Since a colleague from the First Division has come all this way to support us, we’ll make sure you have all the help you need.”