Chapter Sixty-Two: A Letter from Afar

With a group of design team members in tow, Yang Hui headed back. On the way, he noticed some people preparing to leave. He didn’t insist they stay—the design work was finished, after all, and they had worked overtime until nearly dawn. It was time to catch up on sleep.

“Alright, you can all go home and sleep now. Wait for the good news!” he announced.

At his words, everyone who had been barely enduring bolted as if greased on the soles of their feet—each running faster than the next. After all, young people in their first thirty years never seem to get enough sleep.

Yang Hui actually wanted nothing more than to sleep as well, but he had other business. They were entering the final phase of engine testing, and he needed to give a brief report to the real leader of the design group, Director Bai.

The testing center and the office-design area diverged right at the entrance; to return to the office area, he had to pass through the main gate.

As he passed the gatehouse, the sentry called out, “Hey, young man. Yes, you—come here for a moment.”

Clearly, the gatehouse didn’t know Yang Hui by sight, but calling him over must mean something was up.

“Hey, son, you’re one of the university graduates who joined us this year, right?” The kindly gatehouse uncle asked.

Though Yang Hui wasn’t sure what this was about, there was no real danger here. He answered honestly, “Yes, I’m Yang Hui, the new graduate. Is there a problem?”

The uncle craned his neck to look at Yang Hui’s badge, confirming the black-and-white photo and name matched. He rummaged through a stack of mail, found a bulging envelope, and handed it to Yang Hui.

“Got a good eye, didn’t I? Picked out the right man straight away. Take a look—it’s your letter.”

His own letter? Yang Hui couldn’t recall anyone sending him any materials lately. Where had this come from? He checked the front, saw his name, then looked up at the sender—and was utterly stunned. The sender was none other than Wu Daguan.

Now he was even more puzzled. Why would Elder Wu send him materials? How did he even know where to find him? Yang Hui hadn’t told him.

“Just sign here, and you can take it.”

So, in a haze of confusion, Yang Hui received Elder Wu’s letter. He resisted the urge to open it right there; if it contained important information, it was better to check it in the privacy of his office—safe and confidential.

With anticipation, Yang Hui walked much faster. Once inside, he shut the door, eagerly tore open the envelope, and found a simply bound book and a letter. He set the book aside and sat down to read the letter.

The letter began, “Dear Yang Hui, my worthy nephew.” This was bewildering—when had he become a “worthy nephew”? He couldn’t make sense of their connection. But the next lines resolved his confusion.

“I have been transferred to work in the Imperial Capital. With some free time, I paid a visit to an old friend and learned you are Old Li’s grandson. We’ve had a friendship for many years…” The letter went on about the depth of their relationship and how he found Yang Hui’s contact information.

“This book I’ve sent you, as you can see, is a collection of my previous work organized after moving to the capital, inspired by your paper. It’s not officially published yet, but I’ve mailed you a sample copy. I hope it will bring you some benefit.”

At this, Yang Hui turned the book over and saw the cover: “The Status and Preliminary Research of Aero Engines.” The title alone told him its subject. Apparently, last time’s events had given Elder Wu considerable inspiration.

He didn’t read the book yet, but continued the letter: “There’s something I think you should know. I turned your inspiration into a formal recommendation and submitted it to the leadership. I wanted to apply for funding, but in the end, they didn’t give a single cent. Instead, they assigned me to deal with foreign trade for the aviation industry. So, no money—but don’t be discouraged, things will improve…”

Yang Hui couldn’t focus on the rest. The most crucial information was already revealed—this was a heaven-sent opportunity! He didn’t know why the government, despite having the Aviation Import-Export Corporation, would put a technical expert like Elder Wu in charge of foreign trade, but it was a huge opportunity. Perhaps this would allow him to break free from the monopolistic grip of the Aviation Technology Company.

He felt almost giddy with relief. Considering the shining track record of the Aviation Technology Company, and how domestic aviation manufacturers had suffered under its mismanagement—most notably the infamous Egyptian Yun-12 incident—Yang Hui couldn’t help but feel fortunate.

The Aviation Technology Company had only been established for four years; it lacked experience and could easily botch things. Model aircraft sales dealt directly with hobbyists or regional distributors, so it was best handled by his own team. When it came to market sales, he, with his knowledge from the future, understood more than those still groping in the dark.

This happy news he’d save for later, to report to Director Bai along with the project’s progress. In the domestic system, group allegiance was strong—if Elder Wu gained import-export rights for engines, fellow engine makers would surely avoid the Aviation Technology Company. After all, as the saying goes, “family” is always more reliable.

He carefully put away the letter and gazed at the book on his desk, a half-smile on his face. The sense of satisfaction was real—his efforts hadn’t been in vain, and the course of history had been subtly altered.

He flipped through the book a bit; its contents truly delved into deep issues and addressed the current situation thoroughly, with detailed records from all sides. It was significant enough to guide policy, provided the policymakers bothered to read it. But would those bureaucrats read such a book? …

He didn’t need to read Elder Wu’s book too closely; he already had a good grasp of the basics. Still, he carefully stored it in his drawer—after all, it was a sample copy from Elder Wu, and had value as a collectible.

…

“Director, I’m here to report on the progress of our engine development.”

He entered the office and, seeing Director Bai unoccupied, began his report. Hearing Yang Hui’s update, Director Bai knew things were going well—it was just a matter of time now.

“Good, tell me the progress—I could use some good news, I’m worried these days!”

Yang Hui didn’t know what was troubling the director, nor did he ask—what shouldn’t be asked, must not be asked.

“We’ve already tested all the engine components, as you know. Now we’re conducting final tests on the engine itself. Chief Chen says, if all goes smoothly, we’ll finish all tests within a week.”

He knew the development of the model aircraft engine should be swift, but completing tests in just a month and a half was impressive. Director Bai was pleased, but beneath his happiness lay a faint sorrow.

“Your team has done well with this project. I trust you, and you’ve proven yourselves—excellent work.”

Then he shifted topics.

“Yang Hui, since you proposed this project, let me update you. The control system is ready; it can be delivered at a call. The airframe is taking longer—we’re still designing the internal structure, and it’ll be half a month before we have the drawings, but there are no technical issues.”

Having outlined the overall progress, Director Bai explained the biggest problem: “We’ve hit a snag with the production planning. I went to request production quotas from the higher-ups, explained the project’s prospects. The leadership is interested, but they require a letter from the import-export company proving our model aircraft can be sold abroad. Unfortunately, the Aviation Technology Company isn’t interested—they say it’s an adult toy, not an aviation product, so they won’t handle our project.”

Yang Hui was incredulous. How could the Aviation Technology Company, after just a few years, be so arrogant? Ignoring the 011 base’s interests, when this project would benefit so many factories—had they considered the consequences?

“They really dare say that? They’re nothing but middlemen, yet now they’re clashing with those of us who actually produce.”

His words carried the influence of the future, where the Aviation Technology Company, despite its monopoly, was still called “middlemen” behind closed doors. Director Bai immediately agreed.

“Exactly! They’re just middlemen, but right now, only they have the national import-export license. There’s nothing we can do.”

Had this conversation happened before today, it would have been a real headache. But now, things were different—Elder Wu’s letter said he was handling foreign trade. Such minor matters could be resolved easily; perhaps they could even acquire import-export rights directly.

“Forget about the Aviation Technology Company—we have other channels now. Elder Wu is in charge of foreign trade; we can go to him.”

Mentioning Elder Wu’s capabilities, Director Bai was instantly interested, eager to confirm.

“You mean Wu Daguan—the chief engineer?”

“Yes, Chief Engineer Wu. He’s been transferred to work in the capital.”