Chapter Twenty-Eight: Project Confirmed

Rising early, Yang Hui washed up feeling refreshed, ate breakfast, and made his way to the office. It had been three days since Yang Hui had presented his project idea to the director, and, by the director’s estimate, the results should be out within these couple of days.

The office remained unchanged; the same familiar faces—three in total. Notably, now that the department had three members, the higher-ups had finally decided it was time to appoint a section chief. Wu Dabai, without hesitation, became the acting chief. Yes, “acting”; the official cadre quota would still take some time. Even so, the appointment left Chief Wu both excited and reflective—though, truth be told, only for a few hours.

Seated at his desk once more, Yang Hui opened his work notebook. On it, “On the Development of Jet Propulsion...” The director’s requested documentation had been finalized by the second day, nearly ten thousand words, filling more than twenty pages. Yang Hui had poured everything he could think of into it: technical barriers, market positioning, market space, profitability, and even a detailed technical roadmap for model aircraft development. Anyone could see that considerable thought had gone into this.

With little else to do, Yang Hui considered experimenting with the design aspects of the model aircraft engine, but he ran out of time. Soon, someone summoned him to the small meeting room—on the director’s orders.

He understood now; it was finally time for a decision. Gathering his materials, he headed to the meeting room.

“Knock, knock, knock...”

“Come in.”

Yang Hui opened the conference room door and entered. As expected, several key figures from the institute were present. Director Bai, as well as the Party Secretary who had appeared at the analysis meeting—later Yang Hui learned his surname was Liu. He had been here since the founding of the Second Institute, witnessing its growth. At the moment, Secretary Liu stood by the window, smoking, lost in thought.

“Come over, Yang Hui,” Director Bai called out. “These are the institute’s leaders. Everyone wants to hear from the person who proposed the plan. Speak freely—tell us your ideas.” He gestured to the group, also introducing the deputy directors and deputy secretaries seated nearby.

The others nodded encouragingly, and Secretary Liu stubbed out his cigarette, sat down, and scrutinized Yang Hui.

Yang Hui glanced at the leaders, noting their conflicted expressions. He felt an urge to laugh, but suppressed it; the institute was indeed torn, about to become the first to break with tradition—the proverbial one to eat the crab.

He divided his prepared documents into several sets and handed them to the leaders.

“These are the materials the director asked me to prepare, covering several aspects. Please exchange and review them.”

Before Yang Hui even finished, the more impatient leaders had already begun flipping through the documents.

The conflicted expressions only deepened. As the materials circulated, some leaders seemed to have made up their minds, smiling as they regarded Yang Hui; but one deputy director, surnamed Li, put down the papers and asked,

“Young man, your materials are quite detailed, but what are you really saying in all this? Do you truly believe a jet-powered model aircraft, with no developed market, can succeed? Isn’t that a bit laughable?” The youngest-looking leader finally challenged him.

“How is there no market? Propeller model aircraft enthusiasts are our biggest potential customers. As long as we create a quality product, it’s bound to sell well.”

Hearing Yang Hui’s argument, Deputy Director Li raised his eyebrows. “Such confidence! If the market’s so big, why haven’t foreign companies jumped in? Don’t you realize jet engines were invented decades ago?”

Yang Hui hadn’t expected to meet such a character today, but his interest was piqued. Smiling, he countered, “Foreign companies are all focused on developing high-thrust engines. They have ample funding—unlike us, who must raise our own capital. Who would notice such a niche market?”

“Ridiculous! Do you think you’re the only one in the world with insight? Surely there have been other dreamers like you, who’ve crashed and burned.”

To be dismissed as a dreamer—Yang Hui couldn’t stand it. One could mock a reborn person’s intelligence, or their looks, but never their vision, or, more accurately, their memories.

It seemed he had to pull out all the stops to convince Deputy Director Li. “A dreamer? Why? My reasoning is well-founded. Model aircraft are industrial products, right? Industrial products need upgrades. Upgrades create markets. Even if model aircraft are consumables, that alone generates market demand. When a propeller model breaks, a player has two choices: propeller or jet. Given the option, they’ll choose the more advanced one.”

Director Li was momentarily stunned, but quickly retorted, “You’re twisting words, using sophistry, changing concepts. I won’t argue—my position is firm. I absolutely won’t agree.”

With that, all eyes in the meeting room shifted to Director Li, sensing trouble ahead.

Throughout the debate, Secretary Liu had watched silently. Now, surveying the room and reading the faces, he cleared his throat and broke the tension. “Let’s do this: as key institute leaders, let’s settle it by vote—democratic decision-making, majority rules.”

Indeed, in the end, the weapon of democratic centralism was deployed—an effective method.

The others nodded in agreement. “Good idea, democratic decision-making is best.”

“Alright, those in favor of launching the model aircraft project, raise your hand,” said Secretary Liu.

Director Bai was the first to raise his hand, followed by a deputy director and a deputy secretary. Of the six voting members, three had yet to decide. Secretary Liu smiled and raised his hand as well; another followed suit immediately, clearly aligning with the Party.

A quick glance revealed that five out of six eligible members had voted in favor. With no support, Deputy Director Li could only declare his dissent, then left the room in frustration, muttering, “You’re violating regulations. When the higher-ups investigate, none of you will escape.”

After Li’s departure, Director Bai remarked, “What an attitude, honestly.”

The others shook their heads helplessly. Secretary Liu turned to Yang Hui, saying,

“Young man, you’re Yang Hui, right? Sharp vision, very impressive. Don’t mind what happened just now—Li was parachuted in from above, just here to polish his credentials. He won’t be here long.”

“Yes, don’t worry about him. He has no idea how tough our research environment is—just a bit of background, that’s all,” Deputy Secretary Xie chimed in, having voted with Secretary Liu.

Yang Hui was speechless. Even with a background, they’d pushed Li to oppose him—clearly, politics lurked everywhere. But Yang Hui wasn’t afraid of Li; if Li confronted him openly, so be it, but if...

“Alright, it’s settled. We’re launching the model aircraft project. Now for personnel arrangements. This project is special, so we’re forming a dedicated group, with Director Bai personally leading as project team leader.” Secretary Liu paused, looking at Director Bai to see if he had anything to add.

Director Bai said, “To show the institute’s commitment, I’ll take charge myself. We must ensure the project’s success. I hope everyone will cooperate.”

“Yes, of course...” Secretary Liu continued, “Yang Hui, who proposed the project and has deep understanding, is appointed deputy team leader. To quickly train the five new arrivals, they’ll be temporarily assigned to the project team. Other departments will provide close support.”

“That’s all, everyone is dismissed...”