Chapter 149: Flight Accident

"Good." Chen Feng stood up, "Preserve the evidence. Also, send a telegram to Minister Wang, letting him claim compensation from the Blaireo Company on the grounds of 'selling inferior products causing deaths'. Not money, but technology—either they send real experts to instruct us, or they provide the complete production process drawings of the engine."

"Will they agree?"

"They will." Chen Feng sneered, "The French are now eager to sell aircraft to various armies; if it emerges that their products have fatal flaws, their business will be ruined. They'd rather use technology to shut our mouths."

Wang Bo nodded, about to leave, when Chen Feng called him.

"Also, prepare a memorial service. Tomorrow afternoon, everyone must attend."

"Understood."

The memorial was held the following afternoon. There was no body—Lin Guodong's remains had already been cremated, and his ashes would be sent back to Penang. Only a simple mourning hall, with his photograph hung.

Chen Feng stood at the front, looking at the smiling young man in the photo. He wanted to say many things, to speak of the greatness of the aviation industry, the meaning of the sacrifice, and the vision for the future.

But in the end, he only said three sentences:

"Lin Guodong, our brother, has left today."

"When he left, he was flying."

"We who remain on the ground must make his flight worthwhile."

After the memorial ended, Zhou Afu approached Chen Feng.

"President, I want to withdraw,"

Chen Feng looked at him: "Scared?"

"It's not fear." Zhou Afu shook his head, his eyes red, "It's that… I don't deserve to fly. Lin Guodong is smarter, more cultured; he should have flown better. I should have been the one to die…"

"Nonsense," Chen Feng cut him sharply, "When an aircraft fails, who is up there dies, regardless of cleverness. If you truly feel remorse for him, then fly properly, make a name for yourself. Complete the altitude and distance he didn't finish."

Zhou Afu stared at him, stunned.

"Now, answer me: withdraw, or stay?"

The young soldier straightened his back: "Stay!"

"Alright." Chen Feng patted his shoulder, "Remember today's feeling. Remember what it's like to lose someone. Then carry that weight and keep flying."

June 1912, the desert entered its harshest season, but the 'Oasis' base's work intensity did not wane at all.

The shadow cast by the accident was gradually diluted by busyness. Not forgotten, but transformed—into a more rigorous attitude, finer inspections, and harsher training.

Two Blaireo XI aircraft, after comprehensive overhauls, were put back into service. Ma Shifu's technical team, under Chen Feng's guidance, began systematic reverse engineering.

In the hangar, the first aircraft was completely dismantled.

"Number every part, photograph, measure, draw diagrams," Chen Feng commanded personally, "Every bolt, every tension wire must be recorded clearly. We seek not just to build a flyable copy, but to understand why it was designed that way and whether there is room for improvement."

At the workbench, engineers were as careful as surgeons. The wing was laid flat on a rack, the skin carefully peeled away, revealing the internal frame structure.

"Look here," Ma Shifu pointed at a joint, "The French use mortise‑and‑tenon plus adhesive, but last time we used pure mortise‑and‑tenon, and the strength was insufficient. I guess their adhesive is particular."

Chen Feng bent over to examine, "It's isinglass, mixed with some resin. We can try to replicate it with insect glue and rosin, but the ratio needs testing."

Another team measured the engine. Although Chen Feng had explicitly forbidden disassembling the engine—it's too delicate, and once taken apart it might not be reassembled—but external measurements and operational tests continued.

"Cylinder temperature can reach up to 200°C, so the heat‑sink design is critical…"

"The carburetor's mixture‑ratio adjustment range is narrow, no wonder it's so sensitive to altitude and temperature…"

"The ignition system is a magneto, far more stable than the battery ignition we use…"

Data accumulated day by day, the drawings improved sheet by sheet. By the end of June, the Lanfang edition of the Blaireo XI drawings were eighty percent complete.

But that wasn't enough.

"Copying is only the first step," Chen Feng said at the technical meeting, "We must, based on understanding, improve and innovate. The Swallow-I project is now officially launched."

He spread out the new design. It was a simplified version based on the F4F 'Wildcat', but incorporated some mature designs from the Blaireo XI.

"We can't make an all‑metal fuselage, but we can try a hybrid structure: primary load‑bearing parts welded from steel tubes, secondary structures of wood, skin of linen—yet critical areas, like the wing leading edge and engine nacelle, use thin aluminum sheets."

"Aluminum sheets?" Ma Shifu frowned, "That stuff is soft and expensive…"

"So we must use it sparingly," Chen Feng circled on the drawing, "Only where absolutely needed. Also, I've designed a new airfoil, thicker than Blaireo's, with a higher lift coefficient. But it's harder to fabricate; see if you can produce it."

Engineers gathered to study. The new airfoil curve was smoother, with the maximum thickness positioned further forward—an optimization Chen Feng derived from later knowledge.

"That has to be pressed out with a mold…"

"We can first make a wooden mold, then carve the wood layer by layer, and finally attach the canvas skin."

"How do we guarantee strength?"

The discussion grew more heated. Chen Feng stepped aside, watching these engineers evolve from initial confusion to posing professional questions, and felt a faint sense of satisfaction.

Meanwhile, flight training progressed steadily under the new regulations.

Although the two‑person system reduced training efficiency, the safety factor rose dramatically. Zhao Tianxiang's arm had largely healed, and he began to lead flights again. Zhou Afu and a few fast‑learning students also started serving as rear‑seat instructors, taking new trainees on flights.

"Watch the altitude! Altitude dropped!"

"When turning, coordinate! Push the rudder, pull the lever, keep your eyes on the horizon!"

"When landing, don't yank the stick! Smooth! Smooth!"

On the command platform beside the runway, Zhao Tianxiang's shouts rang out daily. The trainees were berated to the point of exhaustion, yet none complained—they all remembered Lin Guodong.

In early July, an unexpected good news arrived.

Wang Wenwu called from Dubai, his tone excited: "President, the Germans have agreed!"

"Agree to what?"

"Technical exchange," Wang Wenwu said, "We provide partial submarine design consulting, and they send an aviation expert team to guide us for three months. The team leader is Otto Kohler, reputedly famous in the German aviation circles."

Chen Feng perked up: "When will they arrive?"

"Early next month. Six people in total, covering the three specialties of engines, aerodynamics, and structures."

"Good! Excellent!" Chen Feng, rarely smiling, "Minister Wang, this is handled beautifully. Give them the best treatment, provide whatever they need, as long as we can learn the real stuff."

He hung up the phone and immediately summoned the core staff for a meeting.