Chapter 524: Final Tuning Before Test Flight

At the Xibei Shifeichang, the fierce wind whirled the coarse yellow sand past, slamming it hard onto the makeshift metal command tent, producing a muffled "whalala" sound.

At the far end of the runway, the Gebi Tan is gnawed by wind‑blown sand into a network of gullies, the withered, yellow camels hunching against the wind, and even the air is thick with the acrid scent of dust.

The J-20 fighter sits silently in the designated zone, its silvery‑gray fuselage glinting with a cold, hard sheen under the dim yellow light; the Stealth Coating on its skin shifts with the light, scattering a fine matte glow, like a coiled steel eagle, its wing mounts empty yet exuding a blade‑sharp edge ready to tear the sky.

In a distant guard post, the sentinel stands as upright as a pine; even as sand blinds his eyes, he still fixes his gaze on every figure entering or leaving the area, adding a solemn, lethal gravity to this land that bears Daxia's aviation hopes.

"All teams, attention: two hours remain until the final test flight; we are entering the last tuning phase!" Lin Shengli's voice rang through the intercom across the site, steady and powerful, instantly silencing the clamor.

He wore a deep‑blue research uniform, a "Chief Responsible" badge pinned to his cuff, his gaze sweeping over every part of the fighter, eyes sharp as an eagle.

As a leading figure in Daxia's national defense research, this invisible fighter, embodying years of the team's effort, is not only a technological breakthrough but also a symbol of the nation's dignity, tolerating no mistake.

Hanna tightened her wind‑proof jacket, raised the collar to block the incoming sand, and briskly walked to the side of the fighter.

Two materials‑team researchers followed her, each carrying a heavy portable testing device, its casing still dusted with unsettled sand.

The wind pressed her blond hair against her cheek; Hanna lifted her hand and brushed it aside twice, her fingertips touching the fighter's icy fuselage.

She didn't rush to operate; instead she crouched, using the daylight to study the Stealth Coating's texture, her fingertips lightly grazing the leading edge of the wing—here the airflow first contacts the aircraft during test flight, making it the hottest spot, and also her greatest concern.

"Lin, the coating surface shows no obvious scratches or bubbles, but we must verify its stability under high‑temperature conditions." She said, turning toward Lin Shengli at the command console; her voice, filtered through the wind‑proof mask, carried a sand‑rasped tone yet remained clear. "During the test flight the Mach number will exceed 2.0, and the fuselage surface temperature will spike instantly above three hundred degrees Celsius; this is an extreme test of the coating's adhesion and heat resistance—any tiny flaw could cause the stealth performance to fail."

Lin Shengli nodded, glanced at his wristwatch, and said, "You have forty minutes; ensure absolute perfection. The subsequent power‑system integration tuning will need your data as support."

"Don't worry, it won't delay the schedule," Hanna nodded, then straightened and ordered the researchers behind her, "Activate the HT‑3 coating high‑temperature testing instrument, first scan the wing leading edge, tailplane, and fuselage belly—these three critical zones. Keep sampling intervals at five centimeters, sync data in real time to the main console, and have each data set double‑checked; no errors tolerated."

As soon as she finished speaking, she took the testing probe handed over by a researcher and carefully pressed it onto the coating of the wing's leading edge.

When the probe activated, it emitted a faint "bzz" sound, strikingly clear amid the howling wind, and a cascade of flickering numbers quickly appeared on the screen.

Hanna's eyes fixed on the screen, her fingers lightly tapping the instrument's case as the data shifted, murmuring the parameter standards under her breath, her focus making the surrounding sand seem irrelevant.

Another researcher held a logbook, the pen tip darting across the paper to precisely record each set of real‑time data, occasionally glancing at Hanna to confirm the numbers with a look.

On the other side, Lin Zhengpeng stood before the fighter's avionics console, his fingers swiftly navigating the dense array of buttons.

He stood tall, his brows inheriting Lin Shengli's composure yet adding a few youthful sharpness.

As the core developer of the J-20's Fire Control System, he knows better than anyone that this system is the fighter's "eyes" and "fist," and its precision directly decides the test flight's success.

"General Lin, the Fire Control System's preliminary self‑check is complete, all parameters normal," Lin Zhengpeng reported to Lin Shengli via the intercom, his tone steady. "We will now begin calibration with the radar and weapon‑mount systems; expect thirty minutes to finish."

"Ensure the engine power‑output data is synchronized, so the fire‑control targeting and the aircraft's attitude adjustments mesh seamlessly," Lin Shengli's voice came through the intercom, with a hint of admonition.

He knows his son's abilities, yet the more critical the moment, the stricter the rigor must be.

"Understood!" Lin Zhengpeng replied, tapping the console's touchscreen lightly, bringing up the radar simulation targeting interface.

His fingers, long and strong, moved precisely and swiftly across the crowded physical and virtual buttons, without a single superfluous motion.

"Xiao Wang, pull up the preset target parameters and sequentially input the simulated interceptor target, cruise missile target, and bomber target; set altitudes to five thousand meters, twelve thousand meters, and eighteen thousand meters respectively, and increase speed from Mach 1.2 to 2.5."

Assistant Xiao Wang immediately nodded, his both hands rapidly operating another auxiliary console, simultaneously reporting the parameters aloud:

"Received! Target type selected, altitude and speed parameters being recorded; expected completion in ten seconds," Lin Zhengpeng replied with a brief "mm," his gaze locked on the main screen. Once the parameters were entered, he inhaled deeply and pressed the 'Simulated Targeting Activate' button.

The screen lit up instantly; against a deep‑blue virtual airspace backdrop, several flashing red dots darted rapidly—the preset simulated targets. A red targeting box, like a hawk's eye, steadily tracked one red dot, its green data bar edging the box pulsing to show lock precision and range.

The console's fans whirred at high speed, emitting a faint roar that dispersed the heat generated by the electronics. Complex data streams cascaded like a waterfall down the right side of the screen, the red targeting box moving swiftly through the virtual airspace, precisely locking onto each simulated target.

Lin Zhengpeng's gaze remained fixed on the screen, brows slightly furrowed, his fingers occasionally making micro‑adjustments on the control stick; each tweak was just right, keeping the targeting box firmly on the target. Fine beads of sweat seeped from his temples, sliding down his cheeks, unnoticed until one droplet fell onto the back of his hand, prompting him to casually wipe it away with his sleeve.