Chapter 145: A Drop of Water

"Agree to them," Chen Feng said without hesitation, "First get the aircraft in our hands. The site will be set here; as for whether to disassemble it… we'll decide when the plane arrives."

"But the contract—"

"The contract is made by people," Chen Feng interrupted, "Once the French pilots leave, the plane is ours, and we can study it however we like. Right now the most important thing is to let our trainees see, touch, and feel what a real aircraft is like."

Li Te nodded, "That approach is correct. Without a physical object, looking at blueprints is just talking strategy on paper."

Chen Feng picked up the second document.

"Step two, learn. After these two aircraft arrive, during Zhao Tianxiang's convalescence, we need to select the best among the trainees to study under the French pilots. Not only learn to fly, but also learn maintenance and repair. At the same time, Ma Shifu's technical team must follow the whole process, watching with their eyes, recording with their hands, noting every detail."

Ma Shifu looked up, "Engineer Chen, are you saying… stealing a master?"

"It's not called stealing a master, it's called learning," Chen Feng corrected, "We spend money not only on the aircraft but also on three months of 'training'. The training description didn't say it excludes structural principles, right? It didn't forbid our people from watching, did it?"

A few engineers exchanged glances, and light returned to their eyes.

"Step three, modify." Chen Feng opened the third document, a simplified design of the F4F Wildcat, "Based on learning and research, we are restarting the Swallow project. This time we won't aim for a one‑shot solution, but proceed in stages."

He pointed to the different sections on the drawing.

"First stage, build a proof‑of‑concept aircraft that can get airborne. No weapons, no high performance, just stable take‑off, level flight, and landing. Using our existing materials, even if it flies slowly and low, that's fine."

"Second stage, improve the proof‑of‑concept. Replace with better materials, optimize the design, boost performance. The goal is to reach sixty percent of the original Wildcat's performance."

"Third stage is the real Swallow."

Liu Yongfu stared at the drawing, his brows knit, "President, this will cost money again, and not a small amount."

"The budget is eight hundred thousand pounds," Chen Feng said calmly, "Thirty thousand for buying the aircraft and training fees, twenty thousand for material procurement and equipment upgrades, and the remaining thirty thousand for R&D funds."

Wang Wenwu inhaled sharply, "Eight hundred thousand… that's equivalent to the entire annual expenditure of a fully‑manned army division. —"

"Everything is worth it," Chen Feng emphasized again, "It will come from my special funds. Any shortfall will be temporarily borrowed from the navy's shipbuilding budget. Li Te, I need your support on this."

The naval Rear Admiral was silent for a few seconds. Everyone in the conference room stared at him.

"I need a reason," Li Te said slowly, "One that can convince me why we should divert precious shipbuilding funds to these… iron birds."

Chen Feng stood up and walked to the Persian Gulf map hanging on the wall.

"General Li, look here," he said, pointing at the Hormuz Strait, "Its narrowest point is less than fifty kilometers. If someday an enemy fleet blocks it, our ships can't get out and outside ships can't get in—what do we do?"

"Send out battleships."

"What if we can't win? What if the enemy has twice or three times as many battleships as we do?"

Li Te fell silent.

"Aircraft offer a possibility," Chen Feng turned, "Take off from land, fly dozens of kilometers, hover over the enemy fleet and drop bombs. No need for dogfights, no hard contact. Hit and run; they can't chase us."

"But you just said the first‑stage aircraft has no weapons."

"Now it doesn't, but it will later," Chen Feng returned to his seat, "General Li, may I ask you: if I tell you that three years from now we can produce a new torpedo with double range and double speed, would you support me investing in its development?"

"Of course."

"It's the same now," Chen Feng placed both hands on the table, "Aircraft are the future's new torpedoes. Only they run in the sky instead of in water."

Li Te stared at him for a long time, then nodded, "I support it. But there's a condition."

"You speak."

"The navy must send personnel to take part in this plan," Li Te said, "Not as observers, but to genuinely participate in learning and training. If aircraft are ever used in naval warfare, the navy must have people who understand them."

Chen Feng smiled, "That's exactly what I want. In the first batch of trainees, there are five people recommended by your navy. The next batch can include more."

"Deal."

Wang Bo spoke then, "Young Master, another question. Mr. Zhao is injured; who will lead the technical work? Ma Shifu's team knows machinery but not aviation."

"Me," Chen Feng said, "Until we find a suitable candidate, I'll do it myself. Every night after handling administrative affairs, I'll go to the base to lecture and guide technical breakthroughs."

"You've gone two days without closing your eyes…" Wang Bo worried.

"I can manage," Chen Feng waved his hand, "Also, Minister Wang, there's one more thing you need to do."

"You speak."

"Covert recruitment," Chen Feng lowered his voice, "From Europe, especially Deguo and Faguo, find ways to 'invite' some aerospace engineers over. Offer high salaries, generous terms, under the guise of 'academic exchange'. When necessary… we can use some extreme measures."

Wang Wenwu's expression turned serious, "I understand. Several channels are already in contact, but Europe is now very protective of aerospace talent, especially the Deguo people."

"Take it slowly, no rush, but it must be done."

The meeting didn't adjourn until noon. Stepping out, the desert sun was so harsh it made eyes water. Chen Feng stood at the doorway, watching the wreckage of Chick Eagle-1 on the distant runway already cleared, leaving only a charred scar.

Ma Shifu came to his side, "Engineer Chen, I'm sorry…"

"Don't say that," Chen Feng patted his shoulder, "Ma Shifu, do you know what I admire most about you veteran masters?"

"What?"

"Enduring crashes," Chen Feng said, "Those who build machines know there is no design that never fails, only craftsmen who dare not try again. This time we crashed, we find the cause, redesign, try again. As long as we don't give up, someday it will succeed."

Ma Shifu's eyes reddened, he nodded heavily, "Rest assured, this time we'll be meticulous, meticulous, and meticulous."

"Good," Chen Feng looked into the distance, "When the French aircraft arrive, our road truly begins."

March 18, 1912, 7 a. m.

After six hours of bouncing along the desert road, three trucks and a sedan finally entered the Oasis base. The trucks carried two huge wooden crates, tightly wrapped in canvas. Three people stepped out of the sedan: Wang Wenwu, a white man in a suit, and a Frenchman wearing a flight cap, his face full of impatience.

Everyone at the base gathered on the open ground. The trainees lined up, craning their necks to see what's inside the crates. Engineers stood around, notebooks in hand, eyes shining.

Chen Feng walked forward.