Chapter 255: Wooden Aircraft

Chapter 255: The Wooden Airplane

The next day.

That night proved a bountiful one for the great majority, and the joke about “plowing eighty acres through the night” turned into reality.

At dawn the following day, when Chen Jian stepped out of the gate of Facility 011, he was nearly stunned by the sight before him.

Every stretch of wasteland within his view had been painstakingly cleared; rocks, tree roots, buried rebar that had not yet fully rusted away, and assorted debris were all unearthed and piled high into a small hill.

The newly appointed excavator operators wore eyes rimmed with bloodshot veins, yet their spirits surged with a wild, exhilarated fervor.

Had Jiang Yu not forcibly called a halt, they would likely still be clinging to the machines, unwilling to dismount.

Chen Jian chuckled as he watched the residents line up for meals, yawning endlessly, and shook his head, saying:

“Now this is truly amusing—excavators have become toys.”

At his words, Huang Yu, who happened to be standing behind him, suddenly stepped forward and said:

“Commander, when we first learned to drive, most of us also treated it as a toy.”

“I actually think that mindset is healthy; it fuels enthusiasm.”

“I’m not saying it’s bad—so, how did yesterday’s training go? Did you check on the wounded?”

“I’ve already visited them; the funeral arrangements are set.”

Huang Yu instantly composed himself and replied:

“The training proceeded fairly well; yesterday’s intensity was high, yet no one was eliminated.”

“In my experience, if they can endure three days, withdrawals essentially cease.”

“However, the newcomers differ from us in some ways; I fear a single, overly potent dose might overwhelm them, so we plan a day of rest today.”

“Conveniently, Commander Lei Jie has scheduled a public duty; we’ll all pitch in.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian knew exactly what Huang Yu meant by ‘public duty.’

Earlier, Fuxi, after completing firearms production in the smart workshop, swiftly pivoted to the pre‑planned synthesis‑ammonia line, with the foremost priority being the high‑pressure vessel crucial to ammonia synthesis.

At this moment, the foresight embedded in that smart workshop’s design became strikingly evident.

Had it employed a more ‘shortcut’ configuration—massive metal 3‑D printing—such a large, high‑spec component could still be fabricated, but both efficiency and reliability would have suffered considerably.

Now, in just over four days, a 13.5‑meter‑tall pressure cylinder has already been produced.

Going forward, once the cylinder is installed in place, the remaining equipment—whether in fabrication or assembly—should pose no major obstacles.

Of course, installing the pressure vessel is far from simple.

In theory, without a massive crane, positioning that cylinder is virtually impossible.

Lei Jie resorted to a cunning ploy: he selected a hollow, intending to lower the cylinder from a higher point to its slot.

Thus the crane dilemma was sidestepped.

Yet the comparatively intricate transport now demanded a massive human workforce.

It was no light task.

With that in mind, Chen Jian spoke:

“You pushed them too hard yesterday; the fresh recruits probably haven’t recovered yet.”

“When we work later, try to keep them from heavy labor as much as possible.”

“Safety first—if we cause an injury, it would be absurdly tragic.”

“Understood, rest assured, Commander.”

Huang Yu answered repeatedly, and the two walked in tandem to the kitchen for breakfast; after a quick bite, Lei Jie led the group into Facility 011, ready to commence the transport.

Most sections inside the facility were fitted with high‑load tracks, and dedicated freight lifts connected the levels; they encountered no difficulty moving the cylinder out through the main corridor.

Yet once the cylinder left the facility, the true challenge began.

The phrase ‘human‑powered shoulder‑carry’ may seem ill‑suited to the Chinese army, which boasts abundant heavy machinery, but indeed every soul on the base was mobilized, each to his task.

Like swarms of ants, they strained to shift the colossal artifact of tomorrow, while commands, shouts, and work songs rang everywhere.

Men drenched in sweat snatched water flasks from children and women, gulped, then turned back to their stations.

As the temperature rose, some began shedding their garments.

Coiled muscles, bathed in the noon sun, contrasted against the mountain‑sized steel monolith, creating a fleeting tableau of taut, post‑modern industrial beauty. Chen Jian too joined the ranks, lending his effort.

As the sun slipped toward the horizon, the pressure cylinder settled into its designated spot, and a roar of jubilation erupted from the crowd.

They had accomplished a great feat.

Even if it was merely a beginning.

It was no less than a resounding victory, and Chen Jian promptly issued an order for a celebratory supper that night.

When everyone gathered, sipping a non‑alcoholic, sugar‑laden “beverage,” all barriers dissolved.

Chen Jian, satisfied as he watched the group feast together, turned to Lei Jie and said:

“We were previously concerned about cohesion, but now it seems that issue never truly existed.”

“Mass industrial production is inherently a spectacle; once everyone participates, they are subtly bound together.”

“A sense of belonging will emerge swiftly; our role is merely to guide that current.”

“So, from this perspective, the situation isn’t as dire as we imagined?”

“Indeed.”

Lei Jie nodded in agreement and continued:

“The world’s ‘intellectual soil’ is actually a bit richer than we presumed.”

“In many aspects, it exhibits a stark polarization.”

“Religion runs rampant, indoctrination is severe, yet what they revere coincidentally aligns with what we can offer.”

“Pursuing large‑scale production is the right path; we need not even correct their ‘religious beliefs,’ for continued effort will soon erode them.”

“Of course, the prerequisite is that they must see and partake.”

“Exactly.”

Chen Jian set his chopsticks down and went on:

“That’s why we must gather as many of the wasteland’s people to our side as possible.”

“Let’s set that aside for now.”

“Returning to the matter at hand, how does the DF‑26 restoration progress?”

“We’re only short of fuel; the Ring Chamber remains silent, so we wait.”

“However, regarding the aircraft you mentioned the day before yesterday, I have an idea.”

“Speak.”

Chen Jian looked at Lei Jie with eyes full of expectation, and Lei Jie gave a slight smile, replying:

“I've thought of a shortcut.”

“Indeed we lack the capacity to build aircraft engines, yet we possess a sufficient number of high‑power electric motors.”

“Those motors could lift a bomber into the sky—provided the aircraft is light enough.”

“In that case, wood would serve us well.”

“Huh?”

Chen Jian was stunned.

“You aren't planning to recreate the biplanes of the Great War, are you?”

“Certainly not.”

Lei Jie shook his head and said:

“It’s a mosquito‑type.”

“A mosquito‑type bomber!”

(End of chapter)