World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

At 9 a.m. on September 3, 1912, the "Oasis" base was shrouded in the pre-dawn light.

On the runway, the Swift-I prototype was ready. Its fuselage gleamed with a cool, silvery-gray light in the morning sun, creating a striking contrast between the wooden wings and the aluminum engine bays. Ground crew were conducting final checks, and Master Ma was meticulously verifying each item on the checklist.

Chen Feng, dressed in a flight suit, stood beside the plane, his expression eerily calm. Uncle Wang, Zhao Tianxiang, Zhou Afu, and others surrounded him, the atmosphere as somber as a funeral procession.

"Fill up the fuel tank and the lubricating oil," Master Ma reported. "The engine has been tested three times, and all RPM ranges are normal. The control system has been checked, and there is no sticking in the stroke. The gauges... all the gauges are moving, but I don't know how accurate they are."

Chen Feng nodded and patted the cover on the machine: "Master Ma, thank you for your hard work."

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

Zhao Tianxiang stepped forward; his arm, though in a cast, was still too heavy to exert any force: "Commander-in-Chief, let me fly. I have experience—"

"Your experience is with the Blériot, not this one," Chen Feng interrupted him. "I've calculated the handling characteristics, stall speed, and turning radius of this aircraft. Nobody knows it better than me."

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

"Ready!" Zhou Afu held up his notebook and pencil. "Commander-in-Chief, please speak, I'll write it down!"

"Okay." Chen Feng began dictating, "Test flight items: 1. Low-speed runway to check control response. 2. Short takeoff to verify lift. 3. Climb to 50 meters and fly level for one minute. 4. Simple turn to test lateral stability. 5. Landing. All noted down?"

"I've got it!"

"Repeat it."

Zhou Afu repeated it fluently. Chen Feng nodded and put on his flight cap and goggles—a modified motorcycle helmet with a flat glass panel in the front.

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

Uncle Wang's eyes reddened, and he nodded emphatically.

Chen Feng climbed into the cockpit. The seats were made of hardwood boards covered with a thin layer of foam, and the seat belts were four canvas straps. There were five gauges on the instrument panel: tachometer, oil pressure gauge, oil temperature gauge, altimeter, and airspeed gauge—the latter two were taken from the ship, and their scales were incorrect.

"ignition!"

Ground crew turned the propeller. The engine coughed twice and roared to life. The sound was much deeper than Blériot's, and the vibrations were much greater; the entire fuselage trembled.

Feeling the feedback from the control stick, Chen Feng gently swayed the steering wheel left and right. The movements were responsive and quick. He released the brake and pushed the throttle to a quarter full.

The plane began its taxiing.

Everyone's hearts were in their throats. The runway was only 400 meters long, ending at sand dunes. What if the takeoff speed wasn't fast enough, or it stalled after takeoff...?

One hundred meters, speed of thirty kilometers per hour. The nose of the aircraft is slightly tilted upwards.

Two hundred meters, at a speed of fifty kilometers per hour. Chen Feng pulled the lever back.

The nose of the machine lifted up, and the front wheels left the ground.

"It's up! The front wheels are up!" someone shouted.

But Chen Feng did not pull back on the stick. He maintained this posture, allowing the aircraft to continue taxiing in a "three-point attitude"—this was to test the efficiency of the horizontal stabilizer.

Three hundred meters, speed sixty-five kilometers per hour. Chen Feng gently pulled the control stick all the way down.

The wheels left the ground.

One foot, two feet, three feet...

The airplane floated in the air like a giant leaf. It was only three meters high, but it really did take flight!

A deafening cheer erupted beside the track. Zhou Afu jumped up, dropping his pencil in the process. Master Ma slumped to the ground, tears streaming down his face. Uncle Wang clasped his hands together, muttering something under his breath.

In the cockpit, Chen Feng was fully focused on sensing the aircraft's condition. The controls were heavy but linear; the engine vibration was significant, but the power was sufficient; the wings were slightly shaking, possibly due to uneven fabric tension…

He maintained a height of five meters, flew the entire runway, and then pushed the control stick at the end to gently bring the plane back to the ground. He taxied to slow down, turned, and taxied back to the starting point.

When the hatch opened, he was greeted with wild applause and shouts.

Chen Feng climbed out of the cockpit, took off his goggles, and smiled for the first time.

"Data." He reached out his hand.

Zhou Afu hurriedly picked up his notebook: "Takeoff distance: 320 meters. Takeoff speed: approximately 65 kilometers per hour. Level flight altitude: 5 meters. Flight time: 42 seconds."

"Okay." Chen Feng turned to Master Ma. "The trailing edge of the left wing tarpaulin is shaking; check the tension. The elevator's operating force is too high; adjust the cable pulley ratio. The engine vibration is excessive; check the mounting bracket."

"Yes! Yes!" Master Ma wiped away his tears, "It...it really can fly!"

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

"clear!"

After lunch, the plane underwent a brief inspection and was ready to operate again.

This time, Chen Feng's plan was even bolder. After takeoff, he climbed directly. The engines roared, and the plane surged upwards at a 15-degree angle. Ten meters, twenty meters, thirty meters…

At the ground observation point, Zhao Tianxiang was measuring angles with a simple goniometer, while Zhou Afu was checking his pocket watch.

"Climb rate... 3.5 meters per second!" Zhao Tianxiang shouted after calculating.

The aircraft climbed to 80 meters—exceeding the planned altitude. Chen Feng leveled off and conducted left and right turn tests. The aircraft responded well; although there was some sideslip when the bank angle was slightly steep, it remained controllable.

He flew in the air for six minutes, performed a few simple maneuvers, and then began to descend.

This landing was more difficult than the one in the morning. At an altitude of eighty meters, with the engine at low throttle, the descent rate and angle needed to be precisely controlled. Chen Feng kept his eyes fixed on the runway, making subtle adjustments with his hands and feet.

Fifty meters, thirty meters, ten meters...

It leveled out, floated, and the main wheel gently touched the ground, followed by the front wheel. It came to a stop after gliding for more than 100 meters.

Perfect landing.

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

"We did it! We did it!"

"Lanfang has an airplane now! We built our own airplane!"

Chen Feng looked down from the air at these young faces, at the excited expressions of Master Ma's team in the distance, at Zhao Tianxiang's gratified expression, and at Uncle Wang wiping away his tears...

Worth it.

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

That evening, the base canteen made an exception and served extra food. Although it was still stewed potatoes with meat and cornbread, everyone ate with great relish.

Chen Feng carried the lunchbox and walked to Master Ma's table.

"Master Ma, starting tomorrow, 'Swift-I' will enter system testing. You lead the team and go through this checklist, item by item." He handed over a sheet of paper. "Stall test, maximum speed test, range test, load test... We need complete data to prepare for 'Swift-II'."

Master Ma took the list, his hands trembling slightly: "Commander-in-Chief, some of these tests... are very dangerous."

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

"No!" Master Ma objected for the first time. "Engineer Chen, you've already proven the plane can fly, that's enough! The remaining tests can be done by someone else—"

"Others don't understand airplanes enough," Chen Feng interrupted him. "Stall tests require accurately sensing the signs of airflow separation from the wings, and maximum speed tests require knowing the aircraft's vibration characteristics. Only the designers know these things best."

He paused. "Besides," he continued, "I am the President. If I don't dare to fly, what right do I have to ask others to?"

Master Ma was speechless.

Just then, Zhou Afu approached with his lunchbox: "Commander-in-Chief, can I participate in the test? I can be an observer, sitting in the back seat and recording data!"

Chen Feng looked at him and said, "There are no gauges or control levers in the back seat. If something happens, you won't have anywhere to run."

"I'm not afraid!" Zhou Afu puffed out his chest. "I have to do what Lin Guodong didn't finish!"