Chapter 151: Historic First Flight

On September 3, 1912, at five in the morning, the "Oasis" base was shrouded in the faint light before dawn.

On the runway, the "Swallow-I" prototype was ready. The fuselage gleamed with a cold silver-gray light in the morning glow, the wooden wings and the aluminum-paneled engine compartment forming a strange contrast. Ground crew were making final checks; Ma Shifu held a checklist, verifying each item one by one.

Chen Feng stood by the plane in his flight suit, his expression terrifyingly calm. Wang Bo, Zhao Tianxiang, Zhou Afu, and the others gathered around, the atmosphere as heavy as a funeral.

"Fuel topped off, oil topped off," Ma Shifu reported. "Engine test-run three times, all RPM ranges normal. Control system checked, no binding in travel. Instruments... they all move, but I don't know if they're accurate."

Chen Feng nodded, patting the fabric covering of the fuselage: "Ma Shifu, you and your team have worked hard."

"Chen..." Ma Shifu's lips moved, as if he wanted to say something but swallowed it back. Last night, he and his apprentices had stayed up all night, tightening every bolt again and checking every cable again.

Zhao Tianxiang stepped forward. His arm had already had the cast removed, but he still couldn't use it: "Chief Executive, let me fly it. I have experience—"

"Your experience is flying a Blériot, not this," Chen Feng interrupted him. "I've calculated this plane's handling characteristics, stall speed, and turning radius. No one knows it better than I do."

He turned to Zhou Afu: "Is the logbook ready?"

"Ready!" Zhou Afu raised the notebook and pencil in his hand. "Chief Executive, you speak, and I'll write!"

"Good." Chen Feng began dictating. "Test flight items: One, low-speed taxi to check control response. Two, short-distance lift-off to verify lift. Three, climb to fifty meters altitude, level flight for one minute. Four, simple turns to test lateral stability. Five, landing. Got it all down?"

"Got it!"

"Repeat it."

Zhou Afu fluently repeated it. Chen Feng nodded, put on his flight cap and goggles—these were modified from a motorcycle helmet, with a flat piece of glass set into the front.

"After I go up, Teacher Zhao will command from the ground. Wang Bo, if... if something happens, do as we discussed last night."

Wang Bo's eyes were red, and he nodded heavily.

Chen Feng climbed into the cockpit. The seat was a hard wooden board wrapped in a thin layer of sponge; the safety harness was four canvas straps. The instrument panel had five gauges: a tachometer, oil pressure gauge, oil temperature gauge, altimeter, and airspeed indicator—the last two were salvaged from a ship, and their scales were all wrong.

"Ignition!"

The ground crew spun the propeller. The engine coughed twice, then roared to life. The sound was much deeper than the Blériot's, and the vibration was much stronger; the entire fuselage trembled.

Chen Feng felt the feedback from the control stick, gently moving the control surfaces left and right. The response was sensitive and timely. He released the brakes and pushed the throttle to one-quarter.

The plane began to taxi.

Everyone's hearts were in their throats. The runway was only four hundred meters long, with sand dunes at the end. If the takeoff speed wasn't enough, or if it stalled after lift-off...

One hundred meters, speed thirty kilometers per hour. The nose pitched up slightly.

Two hundred meters, speed fifty kilometers per hour. Chen Feng pulled back on the stick.

The nose lifted, the front wheel left the ground.

"It's up! The front wheel is up!" someone shouted.

But Chen Feng didn't keep pulling back. He held that attitude, letting the plane continue taxiing in a "three-point stance"—this was to test the horizontal tail's efficiency.

Three hundred meters, speed sixty-five kilometers per hour. Chen Feng smoothly pulled the stick all the way back.

The wheels left the ground.

One foot, two feet, three feet...

The plane floated in the air, like a giant leaf. The altitude was only three meters, but it was truly flying!

A thunderous cheer erupted from the side of the runway. Zhou Afu jumped up, even dropping his pencil. Ma Shifu sat down on the ground, tears streaming down his face. Wang Bo pressed his palms together, muttering something under his breath.

In the cockpit, Chen Feng was completely focused on sensing the plane's state. The control forces were on the heavy side, but linear; the engine vibration was strong, but the power was sufficient; the wings had a slight flutter, possibly from uneven fabric tension...

He held an altitude of five meters, flew the entire length of the runway, then pushed the stick forward at the end, letting the plane gently settle back to the ground. He taxied to decelerate, turned, and taxied back to the starting point.

When the canopy opened, he was met with frantic applause and shouts.

Chen Feng climbed out of the cockpit, took off his goggles, and for the first time, a smile appeared on his face.

"The data," he said, reaching out his hand.

Zhou Afu hurriedly picked up the notebook: "Takeoff roll distance: three hundred twenty meters. Lift-off speed: approximately sixty-five kilometers per hour. Level flight altitude: five meters. Flight time: forty-two seconds."

"Good." Chen Feng turned to Ma Shifu. "The trailing edge of the left wing fabric has some flutter; check the tension. The elevator control force is too heavy; adjust the cable pulley ratio. The engine vibration exceeds limits; check the mounting brackets."

"Yes! Yes!" Ma Shifu wiped his tears. "It... it really can fly!"

"This is only the first step," Chen Feng said calmly. "This afternoon, we'll conduct the second test flight, aiming to climb to fifty meters. Teacher Zhao, prepare the ground observation point to measure the climb rate and level flight speed."

"Understood!"

After lunch, after a simple inspection and repair, the plane was prepared again.

This time, Chen Feng's plan was bolder. After takeoff, he climbed directly. The engine roared, and the plane surged upward at a fifteen-degree pitch angle. Ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters...

At the ground observation point, Zhao Tianxiang measured the angle with a simple inclinometer, while Zhou Afu timed it with a pocket watch.

"Climb rate... three point five meters per second!" Zhao Tianxiang shouted after calculating.

The plane climbed to eighty meters—exceeding the planned altitude. Chen Feng leveled off and performed left and right turn tests. The plane responded well; although there was some sideslip at steeper bank angles, it was controllable.

He flew in the air for six minutes, performed a few simple maneuvers, and then began his descent for landing.

This landing was harder than the morning one. From eighty meters, with the engine at low throttle gliding down, he had to precisely control the descent rate and glide slope. Chen Feng's eyes were fixed on the runway, his hands and feet making fine adjustments.

Fifty meters, thirty meters, ten meters...

Flare, float, the main wheels touched the ground gently, followed by the front wheel. After taxiing over a hundred meters, it came to a stop.

A perfect landing.

When Chen Feng climbed out of the cockpit again, he was met with deafening cheers. The trainees rushed up and tossed him high into the air.

"We succeeded! We succeeded!"

"Lanfang has an airplane! An airplane we built ourselves!"

Chen Feng, up in the air, looked at these young faces, at the excited expressions of Ma Shifu's team in the distance, at Zhao Tianxiang's gratified look, at Wang Bo wiping his tears...

It was worth it.

All the money, all the hardship, Lin Guodong's death... at this moment, it all seemed worth it.

That evening, the base mess hall made an exception and added extra food. Although it was still potato stew and cornmeal buns, everyone ate with great relish.

Chen Feng carried his mess tin and walked over to Ma Shifu's table.

Ma Shifu, starting tomorrow, Swallow‑I will enter system testing. Lead the team and follow this checklist item by item. He handed over a sheet, "stall test, maximum speed test, range test, load test… we need complete data to prepare for Swallow‑II."

Ma Shifu took the list, his hand trembling slightly: "President, some of these tests… are very dangerous."

"I know," Chen Feng said calmly, "that's why I'm the one flying. You just record the data."

"No way!" Ma Shifu objected for the first time, "Engineer Chen, you've already proved the aircraft can fly, that's enough! The remaining tests can be left to others—"

"Others don't understand the aircraft enough," Chen Feng cut him off, "The stall test requires precisely feeling the wing's airflow‑separation signs, and the maximum speed test needs to know the aircraft's vibration characteristics. Only the designer knows these best."

He paused, "Moreover, I'm the President. If I don't dare to fly, on what grounds can I ask others to fly?"

Ma Shifu was at a loss for words.

At that moment, Zhou Afu came over carrying a lunchbox, "President, may I join the test? As an observer, sitting in the rear seat to record data!"

Chen Feng looked at him, "The rear seat has no instruments, no control stick; if something goes wrong, you have nowhere to run."

"I'm not afraid!" Zhou Afu puffed out his chest, "The work Lin Guodong didn't finish, I have to do it!"