Chapter 27: Dabbling in Model Aircraft Instead of Focusing on Proper Work

“Young people always have ideas. Tell me, what new thoughts do you have? I’m listening.” Director Bai asked again with a smile.

After taking a sip of water, Yang Hui began to explain his thoughts, “Let me put it this way. Actually, there’s a blank space in the civilian aircraft market, depending on whether we’re willing to take it. It does sound a bit beneath us, though.”

Yang Hui thought it best to test the waters with the director first. After all, it seemed rather undignified for an aircraft factory to produce model planes. Calling them ‘model aircraft’ sounded nice, but they were, in essence, just toys—albeit toys for adults.

“Who cares about dignity? If it makes money, it’s good. We’re short on funds, so face is the least of our worries. Go ahead, just say it.”

With that, Yang Hui felt no more reservations and spoke frankly.

“Since we can make target drones, why not make model aircraft? There’s a lot of interest in these abroad as well.”

Director Bai saw no technical issue, but he was concerned about the market prospects. After all, if no one wanted the product, all the effort would be wasted.

“Is there really such a big market for model planes? It seems like no companies produce them. Most enthusiasts build them themselves, and that’s the main joy of model aircraft, isn’t it?”

He hit the nail on the head. The technology for model aircraft can be simple or complex; there are countless enthusiasts making planes themselves, but few can make them fly smoothly.

“The market does exist, but it’s not large. Most model aircraft are built by hobbyists themselves, but that only applies to propeller-powered models. Jet-powered models are a different story—they require professionals and specialized manufacturing equipment.”

Just the power system for jet models is a huge challenge. Before British designer Kurt Schreckling developed his Fd3-64 model jet and published methods for its construction, most enthusiasts simply couldn’t build practical model jet engines.

So, in 1983, model aircraft enthusiasts still couldn’t play with jet-powered models, and propeller-driven ones lacked excitement. The whole model aircraft community hadn’t upgraded to jets yet.

It sounded inspiring, and Director Bai was almost ready to agree, but he hadn’t committed to launching the project yet. It was, after all, a big undertaking.

“Hmm, after thinking about it, I feel there’s some feasibility here, but I’ll need to investigate further myself,” Director Bai said sensibly. Though he was tempted to give immediate approval.

Yang Hui understood that such a major decision would require collective discussion within the institute. It wasn’t up to the director alone; at least the party secretary and several deputies would need to support it.

“Alright, personally, I think it’s quite promising, but I can’t decide on my own. I’ll discuss it with the other leaders. We’ll make a decision within a few days, and you’ll be informed.”

Director Bai was convinced, but now it depended on whether the other leaders were willing to take the risk. It was a thankless task; if it succeeded, the institute and the country would benefit most, but if it failed, all the relevant leaders would be held accountable—it would be considered a violation.

Knowing he had said all he needed to, Yang Hui prepared to leave. Director Bai stopped him, saying, “Hey, could you organize your personal insights on model aircraft? They might come in handy.”

“Oh, certainly, Director. I’ll hurry up and prepare the written materials and hand them over to you as soon as possible.” Yang Hui readily agreed, smiling as he left.

In the office, Director Bai still pondered how to proceed, whether to support the idea, and to what extent. For a moment, he was at a loss, muttering quietly to himself,

“This young man is quite resourceful and insightful, but now he’s given me a tough problem…”

··············································································

Yang Hui returned to the project office in high spirits, smiling broadly. After all, a big money-making plan had begun to take shape—it was worth celebrating. Starting is always the hardest part, and in these times, getting off to a good start was a real achievement.

“What’s got you so cheerful just now? If you don’t mind, share it with everyone so we can all have a laugh.” Wu Dabao looked up and asked when he saw Yang Hui come in.

Yang Hui sat down, thought for a moment, and decided not to mention the model aircraft idea yet. He would wait until it was approved before sharing the good news. He replied vaguely, “It’s good news, but I don’t know if it’ll be finalized. When it’s decided, I’ll let everyone know—it’s definitely big.”

Not wanting to say more, Yang Hui quietly pulled out his notebook to write up the written materials on model aircraft. He glanced at his earlier notes on unmanned aerial photography vehicles and smiled wryly: No matter how creative your ideas are, if they’re too disconnected from productivity, you’ll hit a wall.

He tore out the first two pages and began anew: “On the Feasibility and Market Demand for Developing Jet-Powered Model Aircraft.” Model aircraft have progressed alongside powered flight, but despite jet-powered planes having existed for nearly fifty years, corresponding jet-powered model aircraft technology updates have been…

As dusk fell, Yang Hui stood up to turn on the lights.

“Hey, Yang Hui, it’s been a while since work ended. I don’t think we need the lights. Wu Hongjun had something urgent and left already. Let’s go, too—no need to work overtime. If there’s anything, we’ll continue tomorrow.” Wu Dabao stood up as well. Yang Hui glanced at Wu Dabao’s desk, surprised by the pile of drawings, but Wu Dabao explained,

“Don’t be fooled, these are all old drawings. The higher-ups want them reviewed again. Our department is short-staffed, so this pile probably won’t be done until tomorrow.” Wu Dabao packed up the drawings, shaking his head helplessly.

Yang Hui realized he hadn’t participated in any reviews yet and awkwardly said, “Well, I’ll help with the review tomorrow—more hands make light work.”

Wu Dabao stretched, loosened up, and replied indifferently, “Forget it. You didn’t take part in making these drawings or the design. If you’re unfamiliar with the project, how can you review it? Just focus on your own tasks.”

Yang Hui agreed—it was true he wasn’t familiar with the project. He thanked Wu Dabao and began packing up to leave together.

After locking up, they walked out. The corridor was nearly empty; Yang Hui felt uneasy, having grown used to overtime in his previous job. Here, everyone left exactly on time—it felt abnormal. A design institute without late-night work simply didn’t seem right.

Seeing Yang Hui glance around at the different departments and shake his head repeatedly, Wu Dabao realized what was going on. He sighed, “When there’s no project and no funding, this is how it is. You’ll get used to it. Once projects come in and there’s money, we work through the night, every time—the lights never go out.”

Thinking of this, Wu Dabao was filled with nostalgia for those all-night efforts of the past.

Hearing this, Yang Hui became even more determined to earn some money quickly—the institute was truly short of funds. Without money or projects, even the most talented people would gradually lose their edge. No matter how outstanding a team is, it can’t withstand such attrition.

They parted ways at the stairs, each heading home. Yang Hui, of course, had to continue staying at the guesthouse, until there was a vacant dormitory at the institute.

Arriving at the guesthouse, he was greeted once again by the enthusiastic matron from before, who peered behind him, clearly looking for Yang Yue. Yang Hui felt speechless and quickened his pace toward his room.

··············································································