Chapter 118: with translation of chapter title

Capital, Princess Tomb, in front of the airplane building door.

A tall and thin man hurriedly got out of the car and walked into the building.

He was nearly 1.8 meters tall but weighed just over 100 catties, his body as thin as a utility pole; he took off his cotton cap, revealing a somewhat bald forehead, and white frost quickly gathered on his glasses, making everything before him blurry.

But… he didn't have time to wipe his glasses, and wiping wouldn't help; after a moment, the glasses would adjust to the indoor temperature and the white frost would slowly melt. Now he took off his glasses and, in a haze, stared at the stairs ahead—thud, thud, thud…

He was very anxious!

The cooperation project with Marconi Company was a key project of the aviation industry system after the country opened its doors, so Factory 132 placed great importance on it—don't let the fact that they are an aircraft factory fool you; their R&D capability is very strong, all because they have this technical expert, him!

Tu Lao, born in 1927, as a child witnessed the Japanese planes flying recklessly in the motherland's sky, wildly bombing and strafing; at that time he resolved to serve the nation through aviation.

In 1946, Tu Lao entered the Aviation Department of Jiaotong University; after graduation he was assigned to work at the Ha Cheng Aircraft Factory. A few years later he was transferred to the design office of the Shenyang Aircraft Factory, where he served as the fuselage group leader. His first task was the fuselage design of the Fighter Trainer One; later he helped develop the Primary Trainer Six, and at that time his responsibility was chief designer.

In those special times, the motherland had already prepared for the loss of half its territory, and all industries were to be relocated to the Third Line; thus, Factory 132, the Chengdu Aircraft Factory code-named 132, began preparations. Tu Lao brought his whole family to this unfamiliar city, and with his diligent hands participated in the factory's construction, then took charge of designing the Fighter Five A, followed by the Fighter Trainer Five and the Fighter Seven…

Now Tu Lao's position is director of the design office at Factory 132; whenever he receives a telegram from the Capital, he always has an ominous feeling.

Having gone up to the third floor and just taken a few steps down the corridor, Tu Lao heard arguing from inside.

"The contract with Marconi has already been signed; if we cancel it now, we'll have to pay the British a huge sum in compensation!"

Tu Lao's heart gave a sudden thump; he recognized that voice—it was Liu, the manager from AVIC, who had also participated in the cooperation process with Marconi!

"Yeah, this contract is guaranteed by the People's Bank of China; if it's canceled, our central bank's international reputation will definitely suffer, and thereafter its guarantees will lose credibility."

The bank people also came!

Tu Lao felt that everything before him was a bit hazy; he lowered his head, looked at the glasses in his hand, which had by now melted, and then put them back on.

"Yeah, our ambassador in Britain also said we need to think carefully; if the contract is canceled, it will affect our Eastern diplomatic image internationally, and in future international cooperation projects, foreigners will consider the possibility of our breaking contracts—whether it's the contract amount or the penalty, they'll definitely go up."

Upon hearing that remark from inside, Tu Lao clenched his fists; this contract turmoil was purely… the higher-ups just making things up as they go!

Back then, you were in a hurry, urging us to rush the negotiations and sign the contract, because we scrutinized every clause and demanded to know all technical details, which prolonged the talks and even earned us a scolding from the superiors.

Now… the contract is signed, the deposit paid, and you say with a single sentence, "We don't want it," and just drop it?

Tu Lao took a deep breath and continued forward; things are already this bad—could they get any worse?

Thud, thud, thud… Tu Lao reached the meeting room door and pulled it open.

Swish, swish-swish!

Countless gazes turned toward him, then… they all lowered their heads.

The main person has arrived! Now everyone else is just complaining, but Tu Lao, along with Factory 132, will have to bear all the losses!

"Old Tu, you've come—I'm really sorry… come, have a seat. Next, let Old Lin brief you on what happened—hey, where's Old Lin? Old Lin?"

The head of the Air Force, Director Zhang, scanned the meeting room and was surprised to discover that someone hadn't come to the meeting!

"Director Zhang, over at Ha Cheng, the Straight Nine's maiden flight—Director Lin heard about it and was delighted, so he went to have a look…"

This… what does this mean?

What maiden flight of the Straight Nine? I've never heard him being so enthusiastic about it before; this is clearly just an excuse to avoid receiving Old Tu—he deliberately went out!

"Ah, okay, Old Tu, have a seat; let me brief you. It's almost year-end. A few days ago, the Air Force went to the higher-ups for a meeting, and they decided that starting next year they would drastically cut military spending, which means our Air Force's procurement budget must be sharply reduced, so we simply can't free up funds to continue the Marconi cooperation project…"

"This Old Lin is really over the top—you ducked out, and now you make me say these embarrassing words! And the higher-ups—this is clearly just them refusing to allocate funds; your superiors should have issued a document, instead of making the Air Force take the black pot!"

Director Zhang's voice grew lower and lower, when suddenly a sharp screech of brakes came from outside.

Good grief, driving in the compound, don't you know to rein it in? You're in such a hurry!

Director Zhang's face turned ashen; at this moment, if he weren't afraid of slighting the wounded Old Tu, he'd definitely stride to the window to see who's being so reckless!

Thud, thud, thud… footsteps sounded outside.

Director Zhang's face grew even uglier—who is it? And they're still heading toward this meeting room!

"Ha ha, Old Zhang, Old Zhang, good news! Has Old Tu arrived? Just don't tell him the previous bad news…"

That voice… is it Old Lin?

Following the voice, Old Lin appeared at the doorway; after entering, he headed straight for Director Zhang, ran to his desk, and picked up a teacup.

Glug-glug-glug…

After drinking half the bowl of tea, he set the cup down, wiped his mouth with his hand, and then… puff… spat out a tea stem.

"Old Lin, it's your turn to speak, right?"

"Mm-hmm, I'll speak, I'll speak." Old Lin beamed, looking toward the doorway: "San Shui, San Shui, come in quick!"

Thus, a young fellow appeared at the doorway, glancing somewhat mischievously at the room full of people—this scene was a bit hard to handle.

"What are you afraid of? Bring out the spirit you used to talk back to people at the Foreign Exchange Administration!"

The bank leader quickly glanced over: "Qin Miao?"

"That's right—San Shui is just Miao." Old Lin said: "Come, San Shui, tell us what you think!"

"Leaders, I'm in Ha Cheng, and I heard Old Lin mention the difficulties currently facing Chengfei. I think, since there's no domestic need, we could sell the aircraft abroad… If the leaders don't mind, I, Qin Miao, am willing to pitch our Fighter Seven jets to them when Yue Tuo next comes to pick up the goods—I'll do my best to get Yue Tuo to buy the aircraft the Air Force doesn't want."

Sell it off!

Everyone's eyes lit up—how could we not have thought of that?