Chapter 146: Add Money

"President, this is the representative of Blaireo Company, Mr. Dupont," Wang Wenwu introduced, then turned to the French pilot, "This is Mr. Charles Le Fei Fu, our flight instructor."

Dupont spoke a little English and warmly shook Chen Feng's hand: "Mr. Chen, pleased to meet you. These two Blaireo XI are our company's finest products; they set a cross‑strait flight record just last year!"

Charles only nodded and muttered something in French. The translator beside him whispered: "He says the place is too crude, the runway unqualified, no hangar, not even refueling equipment."

"Tell him the equipment will be ready within a week," Chen Feng said calmly, "Now, let us first see the aircraft."

The wooden crate was opened with great care. When the canvas was lifted, a gasp rose from the crowd.

This is the real aircraft.

A streamlined fuselage, smooth skin, slender wings, exquisite propeller—compared with the clumsy wooden frame of the "Fledgling Eagle‑1", this is practically a work of art.

"Length 8 meters, wingspan 9 meters, empty weight 300 kg…" Dupont recited like a familiar story, "Equipped with a 50‑horsepower Anzani engine, top speed 120 km/h, range 400 km…"

The trainees gathered around, wanting to touch but afraid to.

Zhou Afu squeezed to the front, eyes wide: "My God… can this thing really fly?"

Ali murmured in Arabic: "By Allah, this is faster than the swiftest horse…"

Charles pushed through the crowd and said in stiff English: "Move aside! All of you move aside! I need to inspect the plane. You lot stay back, you can't afford to damage it!"

Chen Feng gave a subtle signal; Ma Shifu immediately ordered the engineers to step back, though his eyes never left the aircraft.

The next three days, the base was like a festival.

Charles commanded the ground crew to assemble the plane—actually he did most of the work himself; the Lanfang men could only be helpers. He deeply mistrusted "these yellow people"'s technology, tightening every bolt by hand and repeatedly checking every control rod.

Chen Feng was unhurried. He split Ma Shifu's technical team into two groups: one to watch Charles assemble the first plane and record every step; the other to, while Charles rested, secretly measure part dimensions, sketch, and log data.

"The wing frame is spruce… the skin is linen brushed with insect glue…"

"The landing gear is welded steel tubes… the wheels are inflatable rubber tires…"

"The control system is steel‑cable pull‑rods… the rudder is operated by foot pedals…"

Every night, the engineers gathered in the conference room to compile the data they had covertly observed and measured during the day. Sketch after sketch was drawn, question after question raised.

"Why does the wing have a dihedral angle?"

"For lateral stability."

"Why is the tail designed like this?"

"For longitudinal stability."

Chen Feng answered while drawing force‑analysis diagrams on the blackboard. The engineers were sharp; they got it in one go. After three days, their understanding of the aircraft surpassed the two months of earlier tinkering.

On the fourth morning, the first aircraft was fully assembled.

Charles donned a flight suit, put on goggles, and crawled into the cockpit under everyone's gaze. The engine roared to life with a crisp buzz—far sweeter than the makeshift car engine of the "Fledgling Eagle‑1".

The airplane taxied down the runway, light as if about to lift. In under a hundred meters, the wheels left the ground.

"It's taking off! It really's taking off!"

Everyone cheered. The trainees jumped, the engineers clenched their fists, and even the usually solemn Li Te cracked a smile.

The airplane circled above the base at about 200 meters altitude. Sunlight struck the milky‑white wings, flashing dazzlingly. It turned, climbed, dived, like a free spirit.

Zhou Afu stared at the sky, lips trembling: "My heavens… people really can reach the heavens…"

Ali was already kneeling on the ground, praying toward the direction of flight—uncertain whether to Allah or to science.

Ten minutes later, the plane landed smoothly. Charles leapt from the cockpit, finally showing a hint of a smile.

"It's fine," he said in English, "though the runway is rough and the sandstorm strong, the plane is a good plane."

Chen Feng stepped forward: "Mr. Charles, could you take someone for a ride?"

The French pilot raised an eyebrow: "Take whom? You?"

"No, my trainees."

Charles looked at the young faces, shook his head: "Too dangerous. They're all novices; if they move about in the air, it could cost me my life."

"I can add money," Chen Feng said bluntly. "One person for one circuit, 100 pounds."

The price made Charles waver. He thought and said: "Only one passenger, and he must obey my commands, no erratic moves."

"Deal."

Chen Feng turned to the trainees: "Who wants to be the first to go to the sky?"

More than thirty hands shot up. Every pair of eyes burned with longing.

Chen Feng's gaze swept the crowd and finally rested on Zhou Afu: "Zhou Afu, step forward."

"Yes!" Zhou Afu practically leapt out.

"Are you scared?"

"Report to the President! Not scared!"

"Good." Chen Feng patted his shoulder. "When you're up there, look with your eyes, listen with your ears, remember with your mind. When you come back I'll ask what you saw, what you heard, what you felt."

"Understood!"

Zhou Afu was helped by the ground crew into a spare flight jacket—far too big, flopping about. He climbed into the rear seat, and Charles gave a brief briefing: "Hold tight here, don't move, if you need to vomit do it on the side, not on me."

The engine started again.

This time, as the plane left the ground, everyone's heart rose with it. Zhou Afu sat in the rear, stiff with nerves at first, but soon the scenery stunned him.

The earth unfolded beneath his feet, dunes became tiny waves, the base turned into a matchbox‑sized block, the outline of Dubai city faintly visible in the distance. Wind whistled in his ears, not the dusty ground gusts but clean, strong airflow.

"How does it feel?" Charles shouted from the front seat.

"Too… too amazing!" Zhou Afu could only repeat, "Too amazing!"

The plane made a few gentle turns. With each bank, Zhou Afu felt centrifugal force pressing him into the seat. He looked down and saw everything tiny, far away.

So this is flight.

So looking down from the sky, the world is like this.

So people really can conquer the sky.

Five minutes later, the plane landed. When Zhou Afu was helped down, his legs were all soft, but his eyes were bright like stars.

"How is it?" the trainees gathered around.

"I can't put it into words…" Zhou Afu shook his head, "Really can't put it into words… you have to fly yourself once to know…"