Chapter 182: Master Workers

After all, Marconi was a homegrown British defense company and an absolute titan in civilian telecommunications equipment. Even a minor employee of Marconi carried far more weight than a low-ranking official from the air show organizing committee.

Marconi was simply too powerful a corporation to offend. Even though Marconi was merely participating as an exhibitor in this air show, they wielded enough influence in other domains to crush the little fellow sitting at the front desk with a single wave of a hand.

Upon learning that Yang Hui was an associate of Marconi, the receptionist immediately stood up, pulled out the floor plan for Hall 1, and carefully spread it open.

"Take a look. This is the floor plan for Hall 1. The red area here should be the booth for this gentleman's company: the Southwest Aviation Science and Industry Joint Corporation and the Republic's Aviation Industry Policy Development Import and Export Corporation. This must be your booth. It's an excellent location."

Yang Hui could immediately tell that these locations were special. Scanning the entirety of Hall 1, one simply could not find any other non-British aviation companies—save, of course, for a few enterprises with British ties, such as Panavia.

Yet, after carefully inspecting every single booth in Hall 1 multiple times, Yang Hui spotted no other non-British companies. It appeared that this booth alone would be more than enough to make a massive splash for the company.

Nodding in satisfaction, Yang Hui was quite pleased with the arrangement. This was precisely what was needed. Combined with their upcoming promotional measures, as well as the orders from Saudi Arabia and Pakistan, the company would achieve overnight fame through this event.

"Splendid, I think this booth is fantastic. We certainly must thank Marconi; they truly are our good friends and very dependable."

Who doesn't know how to offer polite flattery? Seeing that he had secured tangible benefits, Yang Hui did not hold back his praise. Though the booth was somewhat costly, it was still affordable and well worth the price—standard rates for homegrown British manufacturers.

The receptionist handling Yang Hui appreciated the compliment. Seeing that Yang Hui was thoroughly satisfied with the booth, the receptionist said with a knowing smile, "It seems this will be your company's booth. You can notify the warehouse at any time to have your equipment hauled over. Installation and setup should take about four or five days."

While speaking, the receptionist walked ahead to lead Yang Hui to the actual exhibition hall to inspect the booth, as the booth itself was undoubtedly the most important priority. Upon stepping into the hall, Yang Hui already saw numerous booths under construction by major British domestic aviation manufacturers, subsystem suppliers, and the most prestigious aero-engine maker of all: Rolls-Royce.

Along the way, they passed by one renowned, veteran name after another. Ordinarily, one might not give these companies a second thought, but whenever they passed a booth, the accompanying Marconi receptionist would endlessly recount the glorious histories of these firms.

Yang Hui could hardly object. While these companies appeared to be barely surviving at present, with the impending end of the Cold War, they would all soon find themselves lined up to be dismantled and swallowed whole.

So be it. Let these Englishmen continue to bask in the fading twilight of their empire. A decade from now, even if they wished to reminisce, they would no longer find spectacles such as this.

"Indeed, Britain's defense industry possesses a truly profound heritage. These are all aspects we must learn from. As the pioneers of the Industrial Revolution and the nation that nurtured modern industry, they are well worth studying and admiring."

While offering continuous flattery on the surface, Yang Hui's mind was racing with a singular question: exactly what could he extract from Britain this time around?

As they ventured deeper into the exhibition hall, they finally reached Marconi's booth, though very few Marconi personnel were visible at the moment.

Marconi's products were primarily electronic and did not require early on-site display setups, though a few workers were busy arranging the booth's layout.

Observing these sluggish, unhurried British workers, Yang Hui held out zero hope. Fortunately, personnel from back home were arriving tomorrow; his old subordinate, Xie Lianfa, was scheduled to arrive the next day.

The import and export rights still had to go through the AVIC Policy Development Corporation. Old Wu had no plans to attend the air show, but Xie Lianfa's presence was entirely necessary. The signing of the new aircraft orders alone required the import and export agency of the AVIC corporation to handle the paperwork.

They finally arrived at the booth of the Southwest Joint Corporation. Situated right next to Marconi's booth, the space was not particularly large, yet it was just barely sufficient to accommodate the base's products without an inch of wasted room.

"Here we are. This is your booth. Overall, it's not as large as our Marconi booth, but it should be plenty for you. After all, you don't have that many products. You can start organizing the exhibition setup right now."

Yang Hui detected a hint of arrogance in those words. Upon reflection, this likely stemmed from Marconi's decades-long dominance, which naturally instilled a sense of superiority in its staff—though how sustainable that arrogance would be decades later was anyone's guess.

Decades into the future, Marconi's defense industry would wither, and its civilian telecommunication products would suffer repeated defeats. Caught in a pincer movement between telecommunication equipment companies from the Republic and the United States, their plight would mirror the proverb of Wang Xiaoer celebrating the New Year—getting worse year by year.

For now, however, they still needed to rely on Marconi for a few more years, so he chose to swallow his pride temporarily. Let them be arrogant if they wished; making money was the ultimate truth at present. The booth Marconi had arranged was quite good, and he intended to make the most of it.

"No problem, this will do. I'll start preparing to set up the booth now. You don't need to accompany me any further; I can handle the rest on my own. If I need anything, I'll contact our British friends."

Relieved of the duty to chaperone, the Marconi receptionist was overjoyed. It seemed people from the Republic were just cut out for drudgery—born to suffer and willing to do all the heavy lifting themselves. Let them stumble through it slowly on their own.

"Very well, in that case, I shall return to the company. You can prepare the booth yourselves. As for labor, you'll need to source the workers yourselves; the workers for setting up the exhibition hall are temporary hires, so you must employ them independently."

Hearing this, Yang Hui remained non-committal. Yang Hui truly could not afford these British workers; laborers in a high-welfare nation like Britain each carried themselves like absolute lords.

After turning it over in his mind, Yang Hui found no reason to hire these English "lords." Inspecting the location of the booth once more, he left the exhibition hall and headed back to his hotel, waiting for Xie Lianfa to arrive the next morning so the two of them could embrace their roles as glorious working-class laborers.

Meanwhile, Xie Lianfa boarded a flight to London alone. After more than ten hours of drowsy travel, the plane finally touched down at the airport, where Yang Hui, having already eaten, was waiting for him.

"Team Leader Yang, I knew you'd be waiting for me in advance. Sure enough, the very first Asian face I see upon getting off the plane is yours. Since you're still my team leader, you'll have to arrange my meals and lodging."

These were minor issues, and Yang Hui agreed to them one by one. Seeing that Xie Lianfa had very little luggage, Yang Hui planned to first retrieve the air show product models currently sitting in a London warehouse and transport them to Farnborough.

"Let's go. We'll go pick up our exhibition models first. Our hotel is in the town of Farnborough, and we can ride back with the truck carrying the models."

As they boarded the large truck, Xie Lianfa suddenly thought of a problem.

"Team Leader Yang, this 1:1 scale model is a bit too massive, isn't it? Although the fuselage and wings are packed in separate crates, the two of us alone won't be able to do a thing with them. Did you arrange for any workers?"

This was indeed a problem, and it momentarily stumped Yang Hui. Did he really have to hire those British lordly workers? After pondering it thoroughly, Yang Hui realized he truly couldn't bypass these gentlemen.

Yang Hui had not failed to consider using heavy lifting equipment to hoist the model directly into place as a single unit, but operating such machinery undoubtedly required those same workers, and the air show organizers certainly wouldn't provide them for free.

"So be it. We'll just have to hire these English lords. At a time like this, we simply can't do without them."

The truck came to a halt. Yang Hui located the hired laborers outside the exhibition hall and negotiated with them. Ultimately, he agreed to pay four hundred US dollars to hire two worker-lords to unload the aviation models from the truck and complete the installation.

Although it was rather expensive, there was simply no alternative at the moment. Transporting such a massive aviation model was genuinely troublesome; the gigantic wooden crates had to be moved in their entirety, a task completely beyond the physical capacity of just two men.

As it turned out, the English lords proved quite resourceful. They used a forklift to transport the enormous standard crates to the exterior of Hall 1. However, since the forklift could not be driven inside, the remainder had to be moved by sheer human labor.

When the crates were finally opened, the English lords lost their composure. They looked Yang Hui and Xie Lianfa up and down, and a new thought formed in their minds.

"Oh, God, such a massive beast! Four hundred dollars is definitely not enough. You'll have to pay more—it must be eight hundred dollars."