Live Stream 1980: Netizens Teach Me How to Make a Rocket by Hand

Guangzhou, April 1980, at the Canton Fair.

The Liuhua Road exhibition hall is like a giant steamer, steaming people from all over the world until their faces are shiny with oil.

The air was filled with the smells of sweat, cheap tobacco, and the pungent odor of evaporating engine oil.

At that time, the Canton Fair Complex did not yet have a fully covered central air conditioning system.

Dozens of huge industrial exhaust fans roared overhead, but they only made the heat waves more even.

The exhibition area of ​​the Seventh Ministry of Machinery Industry (Ministry of Aerospace) is located at the deepest part of Hall C.

This place, which should have been a stage to showcase the nation's major achievements, now appears particularly awkward.

A huge model of the Long March carrier rocket reached the ceiling, and several satellite models hung in mid-air.

The area was filled with engine nozzles and radar components.

This trade fair features light industrial textiles and local specialties.

This pile of cold, massive things is like a heavily armored tank that has stormed into a vegetable market.

His entire body screamed "Keep away, strangers!"

And in the shadow of these big guys, in a corner of a crate.

Sun Erga was squatting on the ground, frantically wiping his sweat with his sleeve, his face full of grievance and resentment.

"Manager, this is outrageous!"

Sun Erga pointed to the "Red Star Soft Breeze" in front of him.

It sat awkwardly on the missile packaging box.

"We're here to participate in the exhibition, why are we being pushed to the back?"

"They won't even give us a table! Foreign businessmen can't even see anything!"

Just ten minutes ago, Section Chief Wang from the Foreign Affairs Bureau passed by.

They complained that the fan was blocking the information board for the "Dongfeng" missile model behind them, so they insisted that the fans move back two meters.

Now, they are standing almost against the corner of the wall.

In front of you are huge missile tail fins, unless someone specifically crawls inside to see them.

Otherwise, you wouldn't even notice there's a fan seller here.

Lin Xi held a folding fan in her hand, waving it slowly and calmly.

"Erga, a calm mind brings coolness."

"How can this be quiet!"

Sun Erga stamped his feet in frustration.

"The bamboo thermos vendor next door has already opened for business, but we don't see a soul here!"

Lin Xi smiled but didn't reply.

He stood up and dusted off his trouser legs.

"You stay here and watch, I'm going to learn from our competitors."

……

Hall B, Light Industrial Electrical Appliances Exhibition Area.

This area is much more popular than the aerospace exhibition area, but it's also much noisier.

As a leading manufacturer in the fan industry, Shanghai Huasheng Electric Fan Factory occupies the best position.

A huge banner reads, "A time-honored Chinese brand, its quality has been passed down for a century."

However, the atmosphere in front of the booth was not pleasant.

Li Weiguo, the sales manager of Huasheng Factory, was sweating profusely, with a large patch of his shirt soaked through on the back.

He was gesturing to a red-nosed German businessman in broken English.

"Sir, look! It's made entirely of steel!"

Li Weiguo wanted to prove the quality.

He even picked up the screwdriver handle and banged it hard twice on the heavy cast iron base, making a "clang clang" sound.

"Heavy and sturdy, it won't break for 50 years!"

The German businessman frowned, reached out to test the weight of the fan, and almost couldn't lift it.

He shook his head and mumbled something to the translator beside him.

The translator looked troubled and turned to Li Weiguo, saying:

"Section Chief Li, Mr. Schneider said it's too heavy."

"Isn't heavy good? It's made with the real deal!"

Li Weiguo grew anxious, "We used high-quality iron for this base; we didn't cut corners!"

"Mr. Schneider said that ocean freight is calculated by weight."

"With your weight, the shipping cost will be higher than that of a fan."

The translator, feeling helpless, continued relaying the message.

"And... he said the design was too ugly."

"It's dark and looks like an industrial monster; it would give his wife nightmares if he put it in her bedroom."

Li Weiguo's face turned pale.

ugly?

This is the classic Watson black lacquer with gold trim, it's been sold for decades, how come it looks ugly?

Seeing that the Germans were about to leave, Li Weiguo gritted his teeth.

He shouted out a price that even Lin Xi found painful.

"$18! No, $17!"

17 dollars.

Based on the current exchange rate, it's roughly 25 RMB.

It's worth noting that the cost of such an all-metal fan in China is nearly 60 yuan. (Note)

This price is purely a loss-making attempt to attract customers.

It was all to meet the foreign exchange earnings targets set by the ministry, which is known as "suicidal foreign exchange earnings".

The German businessman stopped and looked back.

But I only glanced at it.

He shrugged, said "not interested," and turned to disappear into the crowd.

Li Weiguo slumped against the exhibition stand, like a deflated balloon.

Lin Xi stood outside the crowd, silently watching this scene.

This was the situation in 1980.

We have the most hardworking and resilient workers, and the most generous use of materials.

However, due to outdated design concepts and a lack of business acumen, they could only sell industrial products as scrap metal and were even looked down upon.

"It's time to teach these foreigners a lesson."

Lin Xi turned around, went against the flow of people, and strode back to the corner shrouded in the shadow of the missile.

……

Back at the booth, Sun Erga was so hot he was almost collapsing.

He pressed his face against the unpowered fan's mesh cover, trying to absorb even a tiny bit of coolness.

"Plug it in."

Lin Xi walked over and spoke concisely.

"what?"

"Manager, there's no one here. Wouldn't it waste electricity to plug it in?"

Although Sun Erga grumbled, he still obediently did as he was told.

"Click".

The piano key switch was pressed.

There is no loud "hum" when a traditional motor starts, nor is there any resonance sound from the casing caused by vibration.

The deep blue five-bladed fan instantly transformed into a blurry shadow.

A cool, refreshing breeze, like a mountain stream, silently emerged.

In this noisy, stuffy, and sweaty corner of the exhibition hall.

This small space instantly transformed into another world.

Five minutes later.

Several Italian merchants, their faces flushed and shirts unbuttoned three times, passed by.

They just wanted to find a place to have a smoke and escape the terrifying crowds outside.

Suddenly, the burly man in the lead stopped in his tracks.

He turned his head in confusion, following the slight chill, and peered behind the huge "Dongfeng-3" missile model.

"Oh my God!"

The bearded man let out a comfortable groan.

He didn't even look at what the typhoon fan looked like.

He turned his back directly, facing the fan with his broad back, and even stuck his butt out close to the mesh cover.

"Luigi! Come quick! This is paradise!"

Soon, the three Italians had completely surrounded Lin Xi's small corner.

They gathered around the fan without any hesitation.

Some people were blowing on their backs, some were lifting their shirts to blow on their bellies, and some were taking off their hats to blow on their Mediterranean-style hair.

Sun Erga was dumbfounded.

Immediately afterwards, I got angry.

"Manager! Look at these foreign devils!"

Sun Erga lowered his voice, his neck turning red with anger.

"What do you take this place for?"

"Without even asking the price or checking the goods, they just stick their big butt out and start rubbing against you?!"

(Note: For foreign exchange earnings settlement, the government does not settle accounts at a ratio of 1:1.5, but at a ratio of 1:2.8 with the earning units, and there are also preferential policies such as tax rebates. So, the cost is 60 yuan, but it can be sold for 20 US dollars.)