Courtyard House: Starting with a 28-inch motorcycle

Xiao Yao: "...Can you stop kidding me? Even if you gave me all of them, I couldn't weld a single rivet."

"That settles it then," the system replied crisply.

Xiao Yao rubbed his temples: "What I mean is—let's not talk about cutting-edge technology from a hundred years in the future. Let's pick some small gadgets that can be put into use in the 1980s, even if they can only fly half a meter off the ground and for ten seconds or so, as long as they have a remote control."

As soon as he finished speaking, a pile of books crashed into his consciousness.

"Here, it's all right here. Go and find it yourself."

Xiao Yao turned the pages one by one, his brows furrowing more and more as he read:

"High-Frequency Electronic Circuit Assembly," "Structural Analysis of Portable X-ray Machines," "Principles of Individual Soldier Lightweight Guidance Devices"... the variety is complete, and the wording is understandable, but here's the problem—no matter how beautiful the drawings on paper are, without copper wires, silicon wafers, and rare-earth magnets, it's all for naught. Technology is the skeleton, materials are the flesh and blood; without either, it won't survive.

"Without raw materials, the blueprints are just waste paper. Are you deliberately trying to make me fail?" Xiao Yao asked, holding back his anger.

This is no small invention; it's a complete concise history of future industry!

"You wanted a toy-making guide? You should have said so earlier!" the system said with a slightly teasing tone. "Here, two copies, enough for you to mess around with."

One of the books, with the cover titled "Miniature Remote Control Airplane Model," featured a small plastic-shelled airplane that caught Xiao Yao's eye.

After a closer look, he realized that this thing had a solid chassis and open interfaces, and with a little modification, it could be equipped with a simple sensor module—replace it with a military lens and wireless image transmission, and it would be a basic reconnaissance drone.

The system dismissed her with a casual "toy".

"Flying at an altitude of less than fifty meters, and relying entirely on a mobile app for video recording, with the chip technology of your day? You want to be a reconnaissance aircraft? Wait another twenty years," the system added insult to injury.

Indeed, even the most basic mobile phone hasn't been released yet, so the video recording function is just wishful thinking. But Xiao Yao didn't expect it to take high-definition aerial photos at all—its ability to take off autonomously, hover steadily, and turn on command is already impressive enough.

Replacement parts could be found in the laboratory; there were similar models for motors, receivers, and servos. The only problem was the batteries; the old-fashioned dry cell batteries simply couldn't provide continuous power, and they would fail as soon as the plane took off.

He then immersed himself in a battery book for half an hour, and then followed the clues to find disassembly diagrams of the receiving circuit, electronic speed controller, and brushless motor.

It turns out that such a small space is actually filled with so many intricacies such as electromagnetics, thermal control, and signal synchronization.

However, he never intended to replicate the original; as long as it was passable, movable, and obedient, that was a victory.

The actual performance will definitely be compromised, but as long as it can fly, it's not just empty talk.

Having studied university physics, he squatted in the space, repeatedly deriving the lift formula, thrust-to-weight ratio, and range threshold. The more he pondered, the more engrossed he became, and before he knew it, the sky outside the window was turning a pale white.

As dawn approached, he actually came up with an even simpler solution—a more basic structure, more universal parts, and even lower welding requirements by two levels.

The next morning, Xiao Yao made a decision: "Let's start work today, making remote-controlled airplanes."

The three roommates were stunned on the spot.

Ji Fengnan hurriedly waved his hand: "Oh, I was just saying that offhand! With my skill level, I'm afraid I can't even hold a soldering iron properly."

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wang Yutong nodded repeatedly. "The matter of machine tools is still far from being settled, so please don't take it seriously."

Qian Wentao grabbed Xiao Yao's arm and shook it hard: "Xiao Yao! Wake up! Don't let them lead you astray! Wake up!"

Xiao Yao helplessly spread his hands: "Who said we were going to make a Boeing 747? It's a palm-sized remote-controlled airplane—the kind that can lift off the ground, turn, and come back down."

He made up his mind last night.

If we can't build real airplanes, we can't let toy-sized ones get stuck too, can we?

Does that mean only commercial airliners count as "airplanes"?

Qian Wentao scratched the back of his head and muttered, "A remote-controlled airplane... can it really fly?"

"That's why we need to lift it up into the sky together." Xiao Yao picked up a piece of chalk, not bothering to wash his face, and sketched the outline of the fuselage on the table, explaining Bernoulli's principle, the relationship between control surface deflection and attitude control as he drew.

Once she started talking, she couldn't stop, talking from dawn until dusk, almost forgetting about lunch.

"Let's fill our stomachs first! Once we get those three miniature motors sorted out, the rest is just a matter of time." Xiao Yao wiped his face and led the way towards the cafeteria.

Halfway there, Qian Wentao grabbed him: "Hey, you've been keeping this a secret for a while now, where did you learn all these tricks?"

"Well, it came to me from photos of the Y-7 transport aircraft taken at the airport. I also flipped through a few old journals and figured out that enlarging the scale and simplifying the parts should work," Xiao Yao said vaguely.

The three of them stared at him intently, their eyes shining brightly, as if they were looking at a genius who had suddenly had an epiphany.

They were just joking, but Xiao Yao actually drew up a sketch, made a list, and even labeled the bearing models.

After the meal, the four of them immediately went their separate ways.

Qian Wentao has extensive connections and is well-versed in the ways of things. He is in charge of overall coordination, especially regarding batteries, which can only be resolved through his family's factory connections and internal channels. Xiao Yao carried the blueprints and ran around to several machine factories in the suburbs, asking for help to mill out the frame and process the rotor shaft—the aluminum sheets and wires in the laboratory were simply not enough to fill the gaps. Ji Fengnan and Wang Yutong, on the other hand, plunged into piles of data, repeatedly verifying the aerodynamic parameters after the two models were enlarged, to verify whether this "enlarged toy" could truly take off, stay stable, and not roll over.

After all, the original model is too small, with parts as thin as a hair, and with current technology, it is impossible to copy it exactly.

A week later, the parts and batteries arrived one after another, and Xiao Yao and Qian Wentao immediately began the final assembly. The two worked efficiently, wiring, connecting, calibrating, and fitting in one go—the circuit solder joints were shiny, the screws were tightened neatly, and even the clips on the hood fit perfectly.

With the main structure already in place, Wang Yutong and Ji Fengnan plunged into the pile of data, repeatedly verifying and calculating, while Lin Wan checked each item against the system output. As she swiped her finger across the screen, her brow gradually relaxed: "The overall logic is complete; only a few small components remain to be installed. We can basically wrap this up."

……

Hearing that Xiao Yao and his group were actually doing something real, the people from the next group crowded to the dormitory entrance to find out what was going on.

Without even looking up, Qian Wentao casually uttered two words: "Airplane."

The air was still for two seconds.

The onlookers exchanged bewildered glances, their eyes darting around—these four people usually took such neat notes in class, how come they could boast without batting an eye? Their tone was as if they had just come back from a Boeing factory.

Ji Fengnan glanced at Xiao Yao and lowered her voice, "Wouldn't it be too embarrassing if we really explained things to them?"

"What's there to be afraid of?" Xiao Yao raised an eyebrow and smiled. "It'll all be revealed sooner or later. If anyone can actually replicate it using only textbooks and the tools at hand—then I'll call him master on the spot."

After all, the blueprints, parameters, and key processes were all supported by the internal data the system had provided him. If someone could actually solve it without relying on external tools, Xiao Yao would gladly offer the title of "genius."

The construction of the aircraft took more than half a month, with the pace neither too fast nor too slow.

All that's missing now is a pair of wings. Xiao Yao originally wanted to cut lightweight wooden boards, but Qian Wentao somehow found two aviation aluminum plates, as thin as cicada wings and as tough as springs. He riveted them to the frame, and the entire fuselage instantly became three times more upright.

Wang Yutong suddenly slammed her hand on the table: "Add three more wheels!"

"If it doesn't fly steadily, we can use it as an 'amphibious vehicle' to get back to the dorm—we'll call it the 'Flying Scooter,' which is both respectable and humorous."

Xiao Yao was stunned, then burst out laughing: "Wow, you've thought of an escape route even more thoroughly than a parachute."

For a whole month, this group of people didn't touch any review materials at all.

While the teacher is explaining second-year material in class, they've already flipped through the textbook and workbook; as soon as the lab demonstration is finished, they've already mentally run through the simulation model three times. Reviewing? For them, it's like giving a lifebuoy to someone who can swim—unnecessary, but comforting.

For the past thirty days, Xiao Yao hadn't gone home, staying entirely in Qian Wentao's small rented room. He spent his nights training in the system space, and his days adjusting parameters, measuring loads, and modifying aerodynamics with the team—the system had quietly pushed his coursework to the first semester of his sophomore year. He crammed for four subjects: advanced mathematics, linear algebra, thermodynamics, and electricity, achieving full marks except for electricity, where he lost two points. He added over twenty more points to the experimental modules, bringing his total energy to over fifty.

He distributed the points evenly, and his five-dimensional abilities increased simultaneously:

Memory 150

Observational ability 151

Attention 150

Thinking ability 153

Imagination 155

Average intelligence score: 151

Staring at the string of numbers, Xiao Yao let out a long breath—all the sleepless nights, the burnt wires, and the wasted draft paper had finally paid off.

Lin Wan also quietly realized that her mind seemed to have been polished: before the teacher finished writing on the blackboard, she had already derived the formula; a page of a densely packed professional book, she could see the outline clearly at a glance, and even the footnotes were imprinted in her mind.

On the last day of the inter-school sports meet, their plane was finally fitted with the last rivet.

To prevent them from dying on the spot if the test flight failed, the four of them timed their evening break to sneak out of the school and secretly transport the plane to an abandoned cement yard on the outskirts of the city.

Looking up at the silver-gray fuselage they had built with their own hands, everyone raised their hands to vote and unanimously named it "God of War".

Xiao Yao almost choked on his laughter—the name was both childish and passionate, but the voting results were an ironclad rule.

Qian Wentao clutched the makeshift remote control, his palms sweating: "This thing... can it really lift off the ground? If it falls, it'll become the laughingstock of the whole school."

Wang Yutong patted him on the shoulder: "Don't worry, the three-wheeled chassis is very stable. If it really doesn't work out, we can switch careers and become deliverymen, specializing in delivering urgent same-city packages."

Qian Wentao trembled even more violently and shoved the remote control into Ji Fengnan's hand: "You do it! My heart can't take it!"

Ji Fengnan's Adam's apple bobbed, but he didn't reply—he and Wang Yutong had recalculated the aerodynamic parameters seven times, almost overturning all the baseline values ​​Xiao Yao had initially given. All that data was typed out by them lying on the lab floor, typing it out with calculators.

The remote control finally landed in Xiao Yao's palm. He took a deep breath and pressed the start button.

The engine hummed, the fuselage vibrated slightly, and it accelerated along the concrete, like a cheetah that had been waiting for its chance.

Four pairs of eyes were fixed on it, and they held their breath.