Volume One, Chapter 12: Avoidance

Silence was the only lingering echo after the roar.

The excitement of Li Guodong and Pang Qingquan was like stones thrown into the Dead Sea—no ripple stirred within Du Yuze’s heart. His calmness made their jubilation seem somewhat absurd.

Pang Qingquan finally regained his composure from his incoherent babbling, grabbing Du Yuze’s arm with astonishing strength. “Xiao Du! No—Engineer Du! How did you do it? This... this is no longer the Turbojet 5! These figures, this thrust—it’s simply unbelievable!”

Li Guodong approached as well. His flushed face was streaked with tears dried by the heat, leaving only shiny trails. Unlike Pang’s excitement, his question was more direct and far more serious. “The blades. How did you solve the blade problem? That kind of material, that process... our factory, no, the whole country can’t produce it!”

This was the unavoidable core issue.

Du Yuze withdrew his arm, speaking with the casual tone of discussing a trivial matter. “I adjusted the combustion chamber structure, optimized the fuel injection and swirling flow for more complete combustion. As for the blades, I just changed the internal cooling channels slightly and used a different heat treatment method.”

“A different heat treatment method?” Li Guodong mulled over those words, his brow furrowed deeply. The phrase sounded simple, but having worked on engines all his life, he knew the weight behind every word. Heat treatment was a core process—slight deviations could lead to catastrophic errors. What did “different method” mean? Was it any different from magic?

Pang Qingquan was about to ask more when the rusty iron door of the workshop was violently pushed open from the outside.

“Bang!”

The harsh clang of metal interrupted all conversation.

A middle-aged man in a crisp blue work uniform stormed in. His hair was neatly combed, but his face was tense with barely contained anger and a hint of schadenfreude.

It was Tian Weijun, the head of the technical department.

“Well, well! You really outdid yourselves!” Tian Weijun’s sharp voice stabbed into the ears of the three men. “Li Guodong! Pang Qingquan! You two veterans, why are you going along with his nonsense? Unauthorized use of sealed equipment, illegal operations! Do you even realize the gravity of your offense?”

He jabbed a finger almost at Du Yuze’s nose. “And you! An intern nobody knows where you came from, who gave you the audacity to conduct such a dangerous experiment here? If something goes wrong, who will take responsibility? Can you afford that?”

Li Guodong pulled Du Yuze behind him, stepping forward resolutely. He had never argued with a superior before, but today he was prepared to risk everything.

“Director Tian! You must speak with evidence! This is a technical breakthrough, not nonsense! We succeeded!”

“Succeeded?” Tian Weijun laughed mockingly, as if hearing the greatest joke. “You three? Using a broken-down assembly bench? Success? Li Guodong, are you losing your mind? I’ve already reported to Director Zhou! You falsified data and conducted dangerous experiments—you’re going to be punished!”

“You!” Li Guodong trembled with fury.

At that moment, a calm figure appeared behind Tian Weijun.

He was in his fifties, short but standing upright like a pine tree. Dressed in the same blue workers’ uniform, faded and dust-covered on the shoulders, he simply stood there, as if the entire workshop’s noise and chaos were subdued by his presence alone.

Director Zhou Zhenhua.

Seeing Zhou, Tian’s arrogance grew. He immediately turned, putting on a facade of righteous indignation.

“Director, look! It’s them! Lawless! I suggest sealing off the site immediately and handing the three over to security for a thorough investigation!”

Zhou Zhenhua ignored him.

He walked in slowly and steadily. First, he glanced at the engine, now cooled but still radiating an astonishing aura. Then his gaze swept over the flushed-faced Li Guodong and the anxious Pang Qingquan.

Finally, his eyes settled on Du Yuze.

Du Yuze met his gaze.

It was him.

In his previous life, this man had borne immense pressure to assign Du Yuze the responsibility for a crucial model development. And it was this man who had transferred him back to Factory 303 during his lowest point.

Zhou Zhenhua, his former superior.

But this was their first meeting in this life.

Zhou’s expression remained unchanged as he spoke in a flat tone, betraying no emotion. “Tian Weijun, you say they conducted dangerous experiments, that the data is suspicious, and there are major safety hazards. Is that so?”

“Yes! Absolutely!” Tian Weijun answered firmly. “Director, we all know the Turbojet 5’s rated thrust is 2,600 kilograms. The instrument readings they produced are absurd! They must have tampered with the data, seeking credit at any cost!”

Zhou nodded, as if accepting the statement. “Oh? That serious?”

He turned to Li Guodong. “Old Li, you’ve worked on this engine for thirty years and have the most authority. Tell me, is this thing dangerous?”

Li Guodong’s lips trembled. He wanted to say so much: how beautiful the engine’s roar was, how powerful its performance, how it was a miracle. But facing the director, he spoke only the simplest words.

“Director, it’s not dangerous. It’s... better than any engine we’ve ever built.”

“Better?” Zhou repeated the word, then approached the rudimentary control panel, where the freshly printed performance curve lay.

He picked up the thin sheet of paper.

With just a glance, he could not look away.

The curve was smooth and steady, as if drawn with a ruler. From startup to climb, then high-level cruise, and finally a smooth descent—every point was perfectly flawless.

Tian Weijun hurried over, desperate to argue. “Director, don’t believe it! This graph must be forged! I stake my party loyalty on it—it’s impossible!”

Zhou said nothing. He gently tapped the peak of the curve with his finger.

“How long was the thrust peak maintained?” he asked, addressing Du Yuze.

Everyone looked at Du Yuze.

“One hour,” Du Yuze replied succinctly.

The entire workshop fell into a deathly silence.

Tian’s face turned ashen.

One hour.

That number was more devastating than the needle pegged off-scale, more powerful than the perfect curve.

Anyone in the technical field knew that reaching a peak thrust instantly might be achieved by some trickery. But maintaining a performance far beyond design limits steadily for an hour...

That was no forgery.

That was a miracle.

Zhou withdrew his finger from the paper and slowly turned, walking toward the engine.

His pace was slow, as if on a pilgrimage.

He circled the engine, inspecting every weld, each pipe, every joint meticulously. His hand brushed over the cold casing, feeling the subtle textures.

Finally, he stopped at the turbine section.

He bent down and approached as if examining a priceless work of art.

“Turbo blades,” he said hoarsely, “what material did you use?”

Li Guodong and Pang Qingquan’s hearts leapt into their throats.

This was the core question—the very one Du Yuze had avoided before.

Tian Weijun also pricked up his ears, sensing he had struck a fatal blow. If the material didn’t check out, it was a colossal lie.

Du Yuze watched Zhou’s back calmly and answered, “The material hasn’t changed; it’s still the GH series high-temperature alloy.”

“Impossible!” Tian jumped up immediately. “The endurance limit of GH alloy is well known! Under those operating conditions, it should have melted into a useless lump! You’re lying!”

But Zhou slowly straightened and turned to Du Yuze, asking a question that left Tian completely baffled.

“Is the blade root cooled by centrifugal fan forced cooling, or by impact plus convection composite cooling?”

The moment the question left his mouth, Li Guodong and Pang Qingquan were stunned.

What kind of question was that? The blade cooling method for the Turbojet 5 was the simplest internal channel convection, unchanged for decades. Where were centrifugal or composite cooling methods?

Du Yuze answered without hesitation.

“Composite. Impact holes are arranged on the blade leading edge, and internal turbulence columns are used to increase heat exchange efficiency.”

Zhou’s body trembled imperceptibly.

He stared intently at Du Yuze, as if trying to see through him.

Those technical terms, those design schemes—they were not conjured from thin air. They were conclusions verified by countless calculations, countless wind tunnel tests, and countless failures. Each detail was worthy of a major paper in a national aviation journal.

And now, these things were spoken so casually by a man barely in his twenties.

“You...” Zhou wanted to ask more but swallowed the words.

He turned to the stunned Tian Weijun. “Director Tian.”

“Ah? Director, I’m here!”

“From now on, seal off this workshop. No one is allowed near this engine. All original data, drawings, and records from today’s test are to be sealed and classified as top secret.”

Tian was stunned. “Director, you... you won’t punish them?”

Zhou offered no answer, only orders.

“Also, summon Chief Engineer Wang, Chief Engineer Chen, and all experts present in the factory. Hold an onsite meeting here in half an hour.”

“Furthermore,” Zhou’s tone grew heavier, “everything that happened here today must not be disclosed to anyone. Not a single word. Anyone who leaks this will be prosecuted for treason.”

Cold sweat broke out on Tian’s forehead.

He finally realized he might have made a colossal mistake.

This was not an illegal experiment.

This was not data fabrication.

This was... real.

After arranging everything, Zhou’s gaze returned to Du Yuze and the others.

“You three, come with me.”

He turned and led the way out of the workshop.

Li Guodong and Pang Qingquan exchanged glances, seeing in each other’s eyes a mixture of excitement, confusion, and awe. They mechanically followed.

Du Yuze walked last.

Stepping through the door, the sunlight outside was dazzling.

He knew that from this moment on, Factory 303 was about to change forever.