Chapter Forty-Two: Then We'll Take the Job

This time, the entire combustion chamber department put aside their work, eager to hear Yang Hui’s design concepts and the problems he encountered. After all, the project was about to be handed over to their department for further design, and understanding the original designer’s intentions and approach would greatly benefit the subsequent work. The remaining three researchers in the department sat down one by one, clearly ready to conduct a “triple interrogation.”

“Yang Hui, your design is really quite rough. You haven’t considered many details at all, have you?” Among the three, only Section Chief Wu had reviewed Yang Hui’s design documents, so naturally, the questioning fell to him.

Hearing Section Chief Wu immediately criticize his design as crude, Yang Hui was not surprised in the least. He would have been shocked if Wu hadn’t mentioned it. The institute, with its long history of military projects, had developed a habit of rigorous, perfectionist design. When confronted with something like this—missing components, and not to mention the absence of a fuel atomizer, the replacement evaporator tube was clearly a result of cutting corners; it was practically useless—how could such a thing not be an eyesore?

Yang Hui had spent a long time preparing to explain this issue, knowing how crucial it was. He had to make the department understand his rationale, otherwise, the final design would inevitably be altered beyond recognition, remade according to strict military standards. That simply wouldn’t meet the requirements for a model aircraft propulsion system: simplicity and reliability.

“This is actually quite simple. We’re designing a turbojet for model aircraft, not for military use. The thrust requirement isn’t high—just a few dozen kilograms. That means we can do without some unnecessary features.”

But this explanation clearly didn’t convince Section Chief Wu. What did it matter that it was for model aircraft? It was still a turbojet engine, wasn’t it? You had to atomize the fuel, especially for engines that burn gasoline or diesel. Without atomized fuel, you’d never even get the engine started.

“No, there’s still a problem. Your combustion chamber doesn’t have a fuel atomizer at all. How do you expect to ignite the liquid fuel?”

This was the Achilles’ heel of Yang Hui’s combustion chamber design, but in his view, it was the most ingenious aspect of the entire project—a balance of time, reliability, and market suitability. It was a good design, and he absolutely could not add an atomizer at this stage.

“I designed it this way deliberately, because I didn’t have time to make something so complex, and I wanted to reduce the number of parts.”

He didn’t want to mention the reason of upgrading to a next-generation power system, since that was still a distant prospect. If he brought it up now, it would only seem like he was reaching too far. It was better to focus on making the first generation solid and, when they broke into the market and started making money, worry about the next steps.

“Whatever your reasons, give me a solution: how are you going to ignite the engine and get it started?” That was what Section Chief Wu cared about most. If Yang Hui had really come up with a way to start an engine without an atomizer, it would be a breakthrough—something that could immediately lead to modifications in the current Turbojet-7 design and at least reduce some weight. This thought excited Wu even more; he couldn’t wait to hear Yang Hui’s ideas.

However, Yang Hui’s design approach was never going to be suitable for military engines. This method could only be used temporarily for model aircraft.

Slowly, Yang Hui laid out his solution: “My approach is quite simple. On the ground, we introduce a combustible gas, ignite it directly to preheat the engine, and then gradually transition to burning liquid fuel. That’s why the evaporator tube is designed to be very basic.”

At this proposal, the three sitting there were at a loss for words. Should they admit they were naïve to think there could be a way to do without an atomizer, or should they admire Yang Hui’s creative thinking for coming up with such an idea?

“You really think this will work? Even for a model aircraft engine, this seems too irresponsible. It’ll be a hassle to operate.” As soon as Yang Hui finished explaining, Section Chief Wu knew this method was unreliable—too much trouble. For military aircraft, such an approach would be criminal; one of their key requirements was operational efficiency.

But since this was for a model aircraft, Wu felt it might just be worth a try. Model aircraft were for hobbyists, flown for fun when the mood struck, with no need for high operational efficiency. There was always plenty of pre-flight preparation anyway, so adding a ground preheating step wasn’t unacceptable.

“There’s no problem with that. After all, it’s a model aircraft engine. The requirements aren’t so high. As long as it flies, the hobbyists won’t mind an extra step on the ground. Besides, when we release our model, it will be the first mass-produced version. Some minor inconveniences are normal; enthusiasts won’t have any alternatives.”

What an assertive statement: “We are the only provider on the market—if not us, then who?” That’s the confidence of monopoly, even if only temporary.

This struck a chord with everyone present. Such boldness—and it made sense. It was the first time any of them had experienced this kind of advantage. The project might not have produced results yet, but it didn’t hurt to imagine a bright future.

After a long moment, Section Chief Wu made his decision. “Alright, we’ll follow your general approach and design according to market demand. With three of us working from where you left off, we should be able to finish the design in about ten days. After that, we can find a factory to make a few combustion chamber prototypes and begin testing.”

Now Yang Hui could relax. The department was willing to follow his initial direction, which was all he needed. What he’d feared most was the department’s inability to adapt, insisting on treating it like a military engine, which would have been difficult to manage.

“Oh, by the way, Section Chief Wu, this design is only a first draft. The data hasn’t been thoroughly checked yet. You’ll probably need to review everything again. If there are any minor issues, there’s still time to catch them.”

A classic case of fearlessness—handing over the design without double-checking the data. If anything went wrong, it would fall on Yang Hui, though Wu couldn’t escape responsibility either.

“You’re quite bold, I’ll give you that. Fine, I’ll go through your materials again. At the very least, it’ll get us familiar with your design approach.”

No matter what, Yang Hui had come up through his team. He had to look after him a bit. Besides, the director had already mentioned the importance of this matter, so of course, it had to be taken seriously.

“Alright, we’ll take over from here. We’ll let you know when we have prototypes ready.” The original designer of the combustion chamber deserved respect—even though the project had been transferred here, he was still overseeing the engine design as a whole.

Since the combustion chamber issues were settled, Yang Hui could now prepare to visit the airframe project team—after all, supporting his girlfriend’s work was important too.

It was still early, so after a quick visit to his own propulsion system group, he headed over to the airframe project team. The two groups weren’t far apart—just a walk from one corridor to another. The airframe team had a lot more people, occupying three empty offices.

Walking into the office, the scene was buzzing with activity—people coming and going non-stop.

“Chief Engineer Xiao Yang, how do you calculate the landing gear? I can’t figure it out.”

“Landing gear is fairly simple on model aircraft. Just design it according to these two principles: it must withstand the huge impact of landing, and it has to be the right height—too low and the tail will hit the ground, too high and the center of gravity will be off, making takeoff difficult.”

No sooner had he finished than another question came: “Chief Engineer, we can’t design the fuel tank without the internal dimensions of the airframe.”

Seeing such a lively and enthusiastic design atmosphere, and most importantly, not seeing Xiao Bo—whose presence always caused trouble—Yang Hui felt genuinely pleased.

“Chief Engineer Yang, I’m reporting in. The propulsion system group sent me to assist with airframe design.” The serious expression still betrayed a hint of mischief.