Volume One, Chapter 49: A Hasty Mistake

The air in the conference room was as heavy and oppressive as a block of lead.

Director Wang’s knuckles tapped against the polished mahogany table, each strike landing like a blow to everyone’s hearts. Before him lay a recently approved procurement request, the numbers sprawling across the page like a phone number, followed by a glaring currency symbol.

“Laser cladding system, imported from Germany. Phased array flaw detector, custom-ordered from the United States,” Director Wang’s voice was dry and rough. “Du Yuze, these two items you requested have exhausted all the credit I have left for the rest of my career. At the institute meeting, they almost called me a spendthrift right to my face.”

Du Yuze said nothing. He calmly met Director Wang’s gaze.

“Old Zhang, what do you think?” Director Wang shifted his eyes to an older engineer with graying hair sitting nearby.

Engineer Zhang, in his fifties, had worked alongside Li Gui for decades. Adjusting his reading glasses slowly, he spoke deliberately, “Director Wang, it’s not that I distrust new technology. But after all these years, hasn’t everything been hammered out by the seasoned hands of the old masters? Engineer Li’s hands are more precise than a ruler and more sensitive than any instrument. Now, just because of a few words from a young upstart, we’re throwing away our family heirlooms? Isn’t that a bit reckless?”

As soon as he finished, several veteran engineers in the room nodded slightly in agreement.

“Reckless?” Du Yuze finally spoke. “Engineer Zhang, no matter how precise Engineer Li’s hands are, can they detect micro-cracks within the titanium alloy’s crystal lattice? No matter how rich his experience, can he calculate the stress resonance frequency under high-frequency eddy currents?”

[Cognitive Conflict: Empiricism vs. Data-Driven Science]

“You!” Zhang’s face flushed red. “Young man, don’t be so impetuous! Without the foundation laid by old-timers like us, you wouldn’t even be able to use a computer to program!”

“I do not deny your contributions,” Du Yuze’s tone remained steady. “I’m merely stating a fact. Times have changed, and so have the rules for building aero engines. We can no longer rely on sentiment and intuition to defy physical laws.”

“Physical laws?” Zhang sneered. “I recognize only one law—that practice is the sole source of truth! Your flashy instruments burn through half the project budget before even starting up. If there’s a problem, who will take responsibility?”

“I will,” Du Yuze said firmly.

Silence fell over the conference room.

Director Wang looked at Du Yuze, sensing a pressure from this young man that belied his years. Finally, he slammed his hand on the table. “Enough! It’s decided. The equipment will arrive in three days. Du Yuze, you are fully responsible. If there’s any mistake, I’ll be the first to remove you from your position!”

Three days later, in a spotless, temperature- and humidity-controlled workshop, two brand-new devices lay covered with white cloths like two silent beasts.

The phased array ultrasonic flaw detector was powered on first.

Du Yuze personally operated it, feeding a new titanium alloy disc into the inspection area. On the screen, blue streams of data cascaded like a waterfall, dozens of probes working simultaneously to render a three-dimensional model of the material’s internal structure in real time.

Everyone held their breath.

Suddenly, the model exploded with glaring red warnings.

“What is this?” a young technician blurted out.

On the screen, the titanium alloy disc, perfect and flawless on the outside, was marked internally with countless red dots labeled “micro-defects,” as if splattered with red ink.

“Impossible!” the head of the materials department rushed forward, snatching the inspection report. “This batch is the top-grade special Class A aerospace titanium. We tested it ourselves!”

“What methods did you use?” Du Yuze asked.

“Type A ultrasonic, single probe, manual scanning.”

“That can only detect millimeter-sized inclusions and porosity at best,” Du Yuze pointed to the screen. “These are micron-level defects. Your equipment simply can’t see them.”

The workshop fell into dead silence.

If this machine was correct, it meant that the tens of millions worth of special-grade raw materials in their warehouse were all scrap.

Zhang had been standing at the back of the crowd. Now he stepped forward, his face wearing a ‘told you so’ expression. “Director Wang, you see? I said this thing is unreliable. Perfect materials suddenly declared garbage. If we listen to him, our engines won’t have a single usable part!”

“Yeah, how can we proceed like this?”

“The project’s going to be shelved…”

The crowd began to stir, despair spreading like a virus.

Director Wang’s forehead broke out in a cold sweat. He turned to Du Yuze, lips trembling. “Du Yuze… what exactly is going on?”

Du Yuze ignored the panic around him. He pulled up the flaw detector’s backend data and typed rapidly. Strings of complex codes and material mechanics formulas flowed from his fingertips.

He was reconstructing a mathematical model.

[Reconstructing correlation threshold between material fatigue life and initial defect size based on real operating conditions of the ‘Turbofan-15’ core engine…]

[Calculating…]

[Model established. New nondestructive testing acceptance standard ‘D-Standard 1.0’ generated.]

“Re-inspect all raw materials,” Du Yuze ordered the operators.

“With… what standard?”

“Mine.”

He imported the new acceptance criteria into the system. The previously ‘devastated’ red 3D model on the screen instantly changed. Over 95% of the red dots turned green, indicating ‘safe.’ Only a few larger defects, located near future high-stress zones, remained red.

“What are you doing?” Zhang stepped forward, voice harsh. “You’re falsifying data! Calling black white!”

“I’m not falsifying data. I’m defining standards.” Du Yuze stood and locked eyes with Zhang. “National standards are universal baselines. But our engine is unique—its stress distribution, temperature gradients, vibration patterns are all special. We cannot use a common dictionary to translate a poem written exclusively for us.”

He pointed to the few remaining bright red dots. “These are the real landmines that could kill us. The rest will never develop into fatal cracks within our design lifespan. Wasting energy on those is the greatest irresponsibility.”

“Nonsense and heresy!” Zhang trembled with rage. “If something goes wrong, will you take responsibility?”

“The report is ready.” Du Yuze pulled a sheet from the printer, showing his newly established model and conclusions. He signed his name in the section for person responsible.

“Director Wang, please sign.” He handed over the report and pen.

The pen in Director Wang’s hand felt like a thousand pounds. He looked at Du Yuze, then at the dense formulas he couldn’t understand. Finally, he glanced at the furious Zhang and the uneasy crowd.

He took the pen and signed next to Du Yuze’s name.

“Get to work,” Director Wang said, thumping the report against Du Yuze’s chest. “If the project fails, we both go down.”

The new impeller was machined from a block of material deemed acceptable by Du Yuze’s ‘D-Standard’ but classified as substandard by the national standard.

When placed on the German-imported laser cladding dynamic balancing machine, everyone found the scene absurd.

No harsh grinding sounds, no flying metal powder. Only a blue laser beam quietly swept over the blade’s surface. The computer precisely calculated imbalance and position, then added microgram-level metal counterweight particles by laser cladding at designated spots.

The entire process was quiet, efficient, and even carried a cold, elegant grace.

When the screen displayed “Dynamic balance calibration complete, residual imbalance: 0.002 g·mm,” Zhang’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

This number was an order of magnitude lower than the best result Engineer Li had ever achieved with a lifetime of skill.

The final moment arrived.

The high-pressure compressor test rig was rolled back onto the test stand. The new impeller gleamed with icy light under the lamps.

The atmosphere in the control room was suffocating.

Director Wang stood behind Du Yuze, palms sweaty. Zhang crossed his arms in the corner, his expression complex.

“All units, prepare for ignition.”

“Countdown begins.”

“Five, four, three, two, one, ignition!”

A dull roar of ignition sounded, and the control room floor trembled slightly. From the rear of the core engine on the test stand, a pale blue flame spurted forth.

Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the main monitoring screen.

The tachometer needle began to climb steadily.

1000 rpm…

5000 rpm…

10000 rpm…

As before, the speed rose steadily. But this time, the vibration monitor’s curve was as flat as a dead man’s ECG.

[Vibration intensity: 0.01 mm/s. Safe.]

Du Yuze’s fists clenched silently beneath the console.

The speed continued to climb.

15000 rpm! The critical speed where the last explosion occurred!

Everyone’s hearts leapt to their throats. Time seemed to stretch at that moment.

One second.

Two seconds.

Five seconds.

Nothing happened.

The speed needle confidently passed the death zone red line and climbed higher.

18000 rpm!

20000 rpm!

The turbofan core engine no longer emitted the harsh shriek from before but a deep, majestic roar full of power. The sound pierced the thick soundproof glass, shaking everyone’s eardrums.

On the data monitoring screen, pressure ratios, airflow, turbine inlet temperatures—key parameters leapt upward like spring shoots after rain, steadily approaching design values.

“Success…” a young engineer murmured, staring at the screen.

Beside him, a colleague in his thirties was already weeping openly.

Director Wang sagged against the wall behind, closing his eyes and exhaling deeply as if all his strength had drained away.

Zhang stood in the corner, watching those near-perfect performance curves. Doubt, stubbornness, and resentment faded from his face, leaving only a profound loneliness. Silently, he turned and walked out of the control room alone.

Du Yuze did not look back.

His gaze remained locked on the screen, watching the numbers climb. This was only the first step; a long, arduous road to true success still lay ahead.

He picked up the desk intercom and pressed the button.

“Continue increasing speed. Prepare to test the next node.”