World War: Battleship Arms Dealers

"Every part must be numbered, and every modification must be recorded," Kohler said during training. "Aviation is not a craft, it's a science. It relies on data, not intuition."

Master Ma and his team initially found it difficult to adapt—the veteran workers were used to relying on experience, but now they had to write reports, fill out forms, and do statistics. But they soon discovered that although the method was tedious, it was indeed effective.

"This bolt broke three times before, and all we knew was to replace it with a thicker one," Master Ma told his apprentices. "Now, following the German method, we tested the material strength, calculated the stress distribution, and changed the installation angle, and it hasn't broken since."

The scientific method began to take root at the base.

In early December, "Swift-I" completed all system testing. All the data was compiled into a thick report. Chen Feng flipped through the report, feeling confident.

"We can begin the detailed design of the 'Swift-II' now," he told Master Ma. "The goals are: a maximum speed of 180 kilometers per hour, a service ceiling of 4,000 meters, and a range of 400 kilometers. It should be able to carry two machine guns—although we don't have them yet, we need to reserve space for them."

"What about the dive bombers?" Master Ma asked.

"Project Falcon-I is officially launched." Chen Feng spread out the new blueprints. "Dr. Wolff has completed the preliminary aerodynamic design. What we need to build is a demonstrator aircraft, one that can verify the dive and recover the concept."

"That sound-generating device..."

"I designed it myself," Chen Feng said. "The principle is simple: install a whistle on the landing gear. But how exactly to install it and when to make it sound will require testing."

German experts showed great interest in the "Falcon" project. Wolff, in particular, devoted almost all his energy to it. He designed a unique inverted gull wing shape—not for aesthetics, but to make the landing gear shorter and stronger.

"Diving at high speeds requires the landing gear to withstand the enormous impact," Wolff explained. "Short landing gear is strong, but the wingtips are too close to the ground when the aircraft is on the ground. The inverted gull wing design, which raises the midsection of the wing, solves this problem."

Looking at this familiar design, Chen Feng sighed inwardly—history truly has a knack for change.

Before Christmas, the wooden prototype of "Falcon-I" began production. This time, the craftsmanship was significantly improved. The precision tools and measuring instruments brought by the Germans raised the processing accuracy to a new level.

On Christmas Eve, a simple celebration was held at the base. German experts and Lanfang engineers sat together, eating somewhat unpalatable roast chicken and mashed potatoes, and drinking beer imported from Dubai.

Kohler raised his glass: "A toast to the advancement of aviation!"

Chen Feng clinked glasses with him: "Also for the friendship between Germany and Lanzhou."

After a few rounds of drinks, Kohler said in a low voice, "Mr. Chen, there's something I'm not sure if I should say."

"Speaking."

"Your development speed... is too fast." Kohler looked at him. "It's abnormally fast. I've studied aviation for fifteen years, and I've never seen any country go from having nothing to being able to design and manufacture aircraft of this level in just one year."

Chen Feng smiled: "Because we have no other choice."

"No, it's not just that." Kohler shook his head. "Your design concepts are at least five years ahead of Europe. Especially that dive bomber concept... The German Army Air Force only started discussing similar ideas last year, and you're already building prototypes."

"Perhaps it's because we dare to dream more."

Kohler stared at him for a long time before finally saying, "Some people in Berlin are worried, worried that you will become... competitors. Not now, but in the future."

"Dr. Kohler, Lanfang is a small country," Chen Feng said sincerely. "We build airplanes not to compete with Germany, but to protect ourselves. As you can see, we are surrounded by powerful nations. Without our own claws, we will be devoured."

"I understand," Kohler nodded. "That's why I'm here, genuinely trying to help you. But Mr. Chen..."

He paused. "War is coming soon. Europe is like a pile of dry tinder; a single spark could ignite it. At that time, Germany will need friends, true friends."

Chen Feng understood the meaning behind the words.

"Lanfang will always remember the friends who helped us." He raised his glass. "No matter what happens in the future, we will remember this friendship."

The two wine glasses clinked together again.

Outside the window, the desert night sky is dotted with stars. In the distance, the lights are still on in the workshop—Master Ma's team is working overtime to finish the project.

The fledgling eagle has already spread its wings; now it's time to learn how to hunt. (The timeline continues to jump; the Netherlands is not the main opponent. This is just a brief introduction; the real rivals are still minor players. Please understand.)

January 17, 1914, 6:00 AM, Dubai Superdock.

Fog rose from the surface of the Persian Gulf, shrouding the port like a thin veil. Four enormous dry docks stood side by side, each over 300 meters long and 50 meters wide. At this moment, three of them were already filled with seawater, while only the westernmost one remained dry.

But today is different.

Chen Feng stood on the viewing platform at the edge of the dock, the cold wind blowing from the sea lifting the hem of his dark gray overcoat. Behind him stood more than twenty people—cabinet ministers, military generals, shipyard engineers, and two technical advisors from the German company Krupp.

All eyes were focused on the bottom of the dock.

There lies a colossal steel behemoth.

The fourth ship of the Bismarck-class battleships – the Pearl River.

Measuring 251 meters in length and 36 meters at its widest point, even now, lying still in the dock, it exudes a mountain-like aura of imposing grandeur. The main gun turrets haven't been installed yet, but the eight massive gun mounts, each over ten meters in diameter, are already welded to the deck. The bridge is covered by canvas, but its complex internal structure is vaguely visible.

"Have you finished checking everything?" Chen Feng asked.

Standing next to him was Ma Guodong, the shipyard's chief engineer, 56 years old, from Foshan, Guangdong, and from a family of shipbuilders. He held a thick inspection record in his hands, his fingers red from the cold.

"All 47,836 weld points on the ship have been re-inspected." Ma Guodong flipped through the records. "The deck flatness error is within plus or minus three millimeters, the longitudinal curvature of the hull is within the allowable range, and all watertight compartments have passed the pressure test. The steam turbines in the engine room underwent a twelve-hour trial run yesterday, and everything is normal."

"What about the armor?"

"The main armor belt, 320 mm thick surface-carburized and hardened steel, is all installed." Ma Guodong pointed to the obvious dark gray area in the middle of the ship. "It's based on German Krupp technology. We've improved the heat treatment process on their basis, increasing the hardness by 5% and reducing the weight by 3%."

Chen Feng nodded and turned to the German advisor beside him: "Mr. Schmidt, what's your opinion?"

Hans Schmidt, a 60-year-old bald senior engineer in Krupp's armor steel division, wore gold-rimmed glasses. He had been in Dubai for two years, nominally as a technical advisor, but in reality, he was also tasked with intelligence gathering—something Chen Feng was well aware of.