Chapter Seventy: Final Shaping and Packing

The model aircraft phase had finally come to an end, and preparations for the upcoming airshow journey were underway.

From the adjacent hangar, the ground crew emerged, each guiding one of the three model planes onto the runway. At the mere sight of these aircraft, Yang Hui felt like dropping to his knees—what an unsophisticated paint scheme, truly the epitome of rusticity. Now Yang Hui was convinced of one thing: the planes of the Republic were not ugly at all; their so-called unattractiveness stemmed solely from an unwavering pursuit of combat efficiency.

A perfectly good Tornado jet, yet under these people's hands, it had been completely transformed. The yellow livery was unmistakable—a paint scheme perhaps as old as time itself.

Yang Hui resolved that the planes meant for sale would be left unpainted; applying a finish might backfire. It would be better to let enthusiasts decorate them as they wished.

He watched as the model aircraft were towed onto the runway. The mixed diesel-gasoline fuel had already been filled in the hangar earlier that morning. A designated operator brought a propane tank forward to start the engines, and everything proceeded according to protocol. The model pilot seated nearby activated the control systems, ran through the checklist, moved all control surfaces, and tested engine response. Everything seemed in order.

"Number One ready for takeoff."

"Number Three ready for takeoff."

"Number Two ready for takeoff."

Once the runway was cleared, the control tower confirmed there were no full-scale test flights in the vicinity and authorized the model flights. The takeoff command was immediately issued.

"Numbers One and Two, take off in formation. Number Three, stand by."

At the command, the pilots of Numbers One and Two adjusted the wings. Already at their maximum sweep, they lowered the trailing-edge flaps, effectively shortening the takeoff roll. As the engines roared with powerful thrust, the aircraft accelerated swiftly. In less than a hundred meters, the two planes, spaced ten meters apart, lifted from the ground one after another. Reaching a height of thirty-five feet signaled a successful takeoff. Each now proceeded to their assigned test maneuvers.

"Number Three, you are cleared for takeoff."

Number Three had been poised for this moment. The pilot pushed the engine to full power, and with a piercing roar, the plane took off in an even shorter distance than the first two. Next came a steep climb; though the model's thrust-to-weight ratio was limited by material constraints and didn't reach particularly high levels, it still managed a respectable 0.7. Thus, even at full load, it could achieve a significant angle of ascent.

Those observing from the stands quickly caught on. "So they're only testing high-angle takeoff now?"

"That's right, it was scheduled last. Judging by the results, the model meets the high-angle takeoff requirements—just follow the designed angle and it'll be fine. But look at those two planes that just took off, nine o'clock, altitude five thousand meters!"

At Chief Engineer Yu's direction, the few special telescopes were repositioned. Through the high-powered lenses, it was clear the aircraft were still trying to climb, but it was evident they were struggling. Limited by the size of the models, they simply couldn't reach much higher.

A nearby observer, seeing the models at their limit, ordered them to abandon further ascent. The pilots brought the planes down to three thousand meters—a safe altitude.

"Your models are already flying high enough. Most model planes never get this high—you can't even see them with the naked eye. They're just too small."

Chief Engineer Yu chuckled at the complaints about the altitude. "Alright then, just watch the next one. You'll be able to see it clearly."

As everyone watched, someone suddenly cried out, "Tailspin!"

Those two words revealed the final test: the tailspin. Only by fully understanding how a tailspin develops could the flight manual properly delineate the prohibited flight envelope. Tailspins in model aircraft are even more dangerous than in full-scale planes, as model pilots aren't actual aviators. Recovering from a tailspin is virtually impossible. Thus, such maneuvers are strictly forbidden for models.

After several rotations, the plane entered the development phase of the tailspin—here, gravity and drag balanced, and its descent rate stabilized at the equilibrium point.

This was the perfect moment to attempt recovery. The pilot needed patience, closely monitoring the aircraft's altitude as reported by an assistant, maintaining all controls in their normal positions. Upon reaching the predetermined altitude, the pilot throttled the engine back to idle, yanked the stick fully, and applied full opposite rudder. Yet nothing worked—the model remained locked in the spin.

All standard procedures exhausted, the model was still spiraling earthward. With altitude running out, there was only one move left: increase thrust. Normally, this would only make matters worse, but sometimes, if the angle was just right, it could break the spin. Against all expectations, it worked—the added thrust forced the nose down, and the plane recovered.

But there was no time for relief. The model was already at a dangerously low altitude, the engine at full power after the recovery attempt. Most critically, the last-ditch recovery had left the nose pointing straight at the ground. Since the pilot was operating remotely, not from within the cockpit, there was inevitably a radio delay—just enough that he couldn't pull up in time.

With a thunderous crash, a spectacular fireball erupted beside the runway, stunning everyone in the stands. Had it really just crashed?

"Yu, what now? The final test ended in a crash—how will we finalize the design?" This was Director Bai speaking, clearly out of his element.

Chief Engineer Yu smiled as he explained, "That's not an issue, Director Bai. The final test was all about deliberately entering a tailspin to map out its boundaries. Once that's done, the flight manual will strictly prohibit flights near that envelope."

The control system designer chimed in from his perspective, "The models are operated by ground-based radio control, which introduces a delay. Plus, it's impossible to react as a pilot would in the cockpit. So, recovering from a tailspin is virtually impossible. The only solution is to ban that flight envelope entirely."

It all became clear—Director Bai realized his mistake and sheepishly admitted, "Well, that was embarrassing. I spoke too soon. So, you're saying the crash was intentional?"

Chief Engineer Yu nodded in affirmation.

"Exactly. We had to do it—without crashing this one, we'd never know the boundaries. The flight manual couldn't be written. We did everything possible to save it, even brought in a certified test pilot for the remote controls, but in the end, there was nothing more we could do. It's a pity."

Seeing Yu's calm explanation, Director Bai shrugged it off, unbothered. "No matter—how much could one model be worth? Let it crash. It's nothing." He spoke with a generosity befitting someone wealthy, even though he had yet to make his fortune.

Yang Hui had witnessed the model's fiery demise and hurried toward the crash site. The pre-arranged fire truck was already there, quickly bringing the blaze under control.

Yang Yue, who had arrived even earlier, looked at the smoldering wreckage and joked, "Rest in peace. Your mission is complete; all test flights are over. I'll write a report to preserve your remains—not send you to the smelter."

The others couldn't help but laugh at the quip. Yang Hui chuckled and called Yang Yue away, reminding him that the real work was just beginning.

Once the team had gathered up their equipment, Chief Engineer Yu stood at the edge of the runway and announced the results.

"I hereby declare the model aircraft project's flight testing a complete success. We are ready to proceed to final production." He pronounced each word clearly, the phrase "final production" marking the project's triumphant conclusion.

A thunderous cheer erupted from the crowd below, their enthusiasm soaring skyward.

Grasping Yang Hui's hand tightly, "We did it—I didn't let you down."

"Thank you for your support. This is the fruit of our shared effort."

Neither noticed the fury burning in Xiao Bo's eyes nearby. This would mark the beginning of Xiao Bo's downfall.

...

"Alright, let's distribute the blueprints and assign factories to produce each component. Final assembly will be at Yunma Factory—they have an available production line."

Director Bai issued his orders, and the team immediately set off with the finalized blueprints to the designated factories. Although the drawings were mostly unchanged from the prototype phase, everything had to be done by the book—only finalized plans could be used for mass production.

Thanks to the combined efforts of all the factories at the base, the components were quickly delivered to Yunma Factory. There, workers on the assembly line put the models together as planned. The finished aircraft were no longer sent for painting, but went directly to the flight test center for their factory tests. Once confirmed problem-free, they were crated, stored, and made ready for shipment from the train station to the port.