Chapter 127: 126, V1710 Engine, Factory Site Selected
Neil from Boeing Trading Company arrived at the airport and went straight to the Taishan Airlines General Manager’s Office.
Fang Wen was waiting for him there.
As soon as Neil entered the door, he asked,
“Fang, when will the next batch of tung oil for airplanes start?”
Fang Wen, who had some understanding of tung oil production, explained: “Tung oil fruits usually ripen in mid-to-late October. They need to be husked, seeded, and dried, then go through many processes to produce raw tung oil. This involves acquisition, production, and transportation. Plus, the quantity for tung oil for airplanes is very large, so it won’t be ready until April.”
“April? That’s coming up soon.” Neil pondered how to report the situation to the company.
Fang Wen, however, asked: “I want to recruit a pilot who can fly the P-26 to bring back my Shrike Hao from Kolkata.”
“Oh, that’s easy. The company just sent two more salespeople, specializing in fighter jet sales to your government. They both have extensive driving experience and have flown the P-26. As long as your reward is generous enough, they’ll definitely agree.”
The two salespeople Neil mentioned had some connection to Fang Wen’s business in China. Without the Shrike Hao’s Asia-Europe cruise, the deal probably wouldn’t have been finalized so early.
Fang Wen nodded and asked Neil to help negotiate it, to bring the Shrike Hao back to China as soon as possible.
Although the airplane was small and compact, Fang Wen, who was used to flying it, really hated to let it gather dust in Kolkata.
“Don’t worry, I’ll handle this for you.” Neil readily agreed, then placed the small leather suitcase on the table, opened it, took out a stack of US dollars, and pushed it toward Fang Wen: “This is the dividend from last time, your share.”
Fang Wen pushed the US dollars back. “Use this sum of money to do something for me.”
“Buy an airplane?” Neil asked.
“No, you know I recently bought a large transport aircraft, right?” Fang Wen replied with a smile.
“Large transport aircraft? Isn’t it actually a large night bomber?” Neil responded meaningfully. As a veteran airplane salesman, he naturally knew about one of the competitors to his company’s newly developed fighter jet, the Farman F.220.
“It has no weapons, so it can only count as a transport aircraft.” Fang Wen defended, then stated his idea for returning the dividend to Neil: “The problem is that the engine it uses has somewhat poor performance. I want to replace it with a better one.”
Neil was almost insanely envious: “Fang, do you know what you’re saying? Isn’t a 750-horsepower engine good enough?”
“No.”
Fang Wen shared what he had heard in Europe from executives at Farman Company.
“I heard your country’s Allison Engineering Company has a V-1710 engine. You wouldn’t not know about it, right?”
Neil certainly knew about it. To show off his knowledge of airplanes, he blurted out: “Of course I know. The Navy just accepted delivery of this engine last year. It has 12 cylinders, a 6-inch stroke, and the latest generation of the 1710 is said to achieve over 1000 horsepower.”
After saying it, Neil regretted it—this was currently the most efficient engine available.
He shook his head: “Fifty thousand US dollars is a lot, but it won’t buy that.”
Fang Wen certainly knew fifty thousand US dollars wasn’t enough, but he also knew that this high-efficiency engine would still be one of the best even after World War II broke out years later.
He even suspected that the mainstream fighter jets of the US military during future World War II would use this engine.
Therefore, if he could get his hands on it, it would be worth spending even more money.
He smiled faintly: “Relax, Neil. You know how much I love airplanes. Even if I got the V-1710 engine, I couldn’t manufacture the same one. Here’s the deal: if you can get the V-1710 engine, I’ll give you fifty thousand US dollars as a reward. As for the purchase cost of the engine, I’ll cover it separately.”
Fang Wen’s words moved Neil.
The V-1710 engine had only been procured by the Navy in one unit, and they hadn’t even decided what airplane development it would be used for. If he went there and offered a high enough price, it might be possible to buy it.
Just as Fang Wen said, even if it ended up in Fang Wen’s hands, he couldn’t manufacture the V-1710 engine.
He wanted the fifty thousand US dollars and also wanted to maintain a good relationship with Fang Wen, so he nodded in agreement.
“After April, when the tung oil for airplanes deal is done, I’ll return to my country and see if I can buy it back for you.”
“Thank you.” Fang Wen stood up, shook hands with Neil, and saw him off.
After seeing off Neil.
Fang Wen returned to the office.
Now, everything that needed to be done was mostly taken care of. It was time to consider factory construction.
Where should the napalm bomb factory be built?
Fang Wen took out a map of China and pondered.
The coastline won’t work—too dangerous.
The north is the same.
Wuhan or Chongqing?
No. Once he carried out night bombing, the bomb fragments left on the battlefield would be evidence.
If in cities like Wuhan or Chongqing, there was a risk of leaks being discovered by lurking Japanese spies.
There’s also the issue with the National Government—what if it got requisitioned?
This possibility was quite high and could even lead to aerial bombs being used against his own people.
Absolutely not.
Fang Wen rejected this idea.
He realized the core of the entire problem.
That was to find a place not involved with the National Government or the Japanese.
Was there such a place anywhere on the land of China?
Fang Wen stared at the map: Northwest Feng Yuxiang, the Three Ma, Sheng Shicai, Shanxi’s Yan Xishan, Sichuan Army, Yunnan Clique, Guangxi Clique, Tibet.
Although some of these warlords had joined the Nanjing Government, they still held actual control.
Fang Wen felt a sense of fatigue. In this war-torn era, all crows were black. If wealth leaked out, it would be divided up by hungry wolves.
Not to mention something like napalm bombs.
At this moment, the office door opened, and Kuang Mingzhu came in carrying a bowl of soup.
“Mister, you’ve been working hard lately. Drink some Rehmannia glutinosa and Smilax glabra soup I made for you.”
Seeing Fang Wen frowning, she not only set down the soup but also asked with concern: “Mister, what’s wrong?”
“I’m thinking about something but have no answer. It’s giving me a headache.” Fang Wen replied.
Kuang Mingzhu walked behind Fang Wen and gently massaged his shoulders: “What is it?”
Fang Wen pointed to the map: “Look at our China, with factions divided everywhere. Where should I put the aerial bomb factory? I’m afraid it’ll be swallowed up wherever it is.”
“Didn’t you say the Red Army can be trusted?” Kuang Mingzhu comforted.
Fang Wen shook his head. He knew the fifth encirclement and suppression campaign had failed, and the Red Army would embark on the Long March.
Although he could help them with airdrop supplies via airplane, it didn’t solve the factory construction issue.
Seeing her husband not responding, Kuang Mingzhu knew this path wasn’t feasible.
She also looked at the map and pointed to a spot.
“Isn’t this where Fourth Sister and the others are?”
Fang Wen nodded, then suddenly froze.
There! Yes, that’s the place.
In his previous life, he had watched some TV dramas about that place, especially those related to suppressing bandits.
Bandits had long rampaged there. It was barren mountainous terrain with many karst cave landscapes. Bandits occupied the caves as kings, making it very hard to clear them out.
Precisely because of the harsh environment there, no one was interested in getting involved.
As a result, by the end of the War of Resistance, the Japanese hadn’t even reached there.
It could be said that there were no powerful warlords there, and Japanese spies wouldn’t bother going.
Although there were many bandits, it was a stable place during the War of Resistance and became a hiding spot for universities and arsenals retreating from the north.
This was it.
Fang Wen’s finger pointed to the area left of Changde where Fourth Sister was.
Western Hunan.
After deciding to build the napalm bomb factory in Western Hunan, Fang Wen began preparations.
To build the factory smoothly there, he needed a good transportation route to bring various supplies into Western Hunan and connect to other places at any time.
For Taishan Airlines, it simply meant building an airport within Western Hunan.
Fang Wen decided to go there personally and also visit his Fourth Sister and brother-in-law.
Since this was a trip to a chaotic place, Kuang Mingzhu was very worried and insisted he take Sun Debiao, who had the best marksmanship, along.
On March 12, Fang Wen piloted his old biplane trainer Qingyun Hao and flew to the airport Taishan Airlines had established in Wuhan.
The airplane landed at the airport and taxied into the newly built hangar. Fang Wen and Sun Debiao came down the boarding ladder.
After arranging for airport staff to guard his meritorious fighter jet well, Fang Wen and Sun Debiao left the airport.
The airport was in the suburban area of Wuchang. To go to Western Hunan, they had to take a ship upstream from the Yangtze River dock, passing through Dongting Lake and Yuanjiang to enter Western Hunan.
There were no direct passenger ships on this route, but Fang Wen had a way.
That was to take a return cargo ship. Although the conditions were poor, there were more options.
The two waited a day at the Yangtze River dock. Finally, a tung oil ship was returning. While it was docked to take on water and supplies, Fang Wen and Sun Debiao went over to inquire.
“Excuse me, where is this ship going?”
The people on the ship were somewhat vigilant and didn’t speak. Fang Wen spoke again.
“I want to go to Western Hunan. Is it on the way?”
At this point, a man in a long gown emerged from the back of the ship: “Not quite to Western Hunan—we’re going to Yuanling dock. But it’s on the way. Five silver dollars per person.”
Sun Debiao was about to haggle, but Fang Wen stopped him: “Debiao, pay the fare. Let’s board.”
The two stepped onto the tung oil ship via the wooden board. Sun Debiao paid, and the man in the long gown said: “Follow me. I’ll take you to where you’ll stay these two days.”
He led Fang Wen and Sun Debiao to the cabin next to the engine room: “Right here. Two meals a day—morning and afternoon. I’ll have someone call you for meals.”
After speaking, he weighed the ten silver dollars in his hand and left satisfied.
After he left, Sun Debiao said: “General Manager, they say carters, boatmen, innkeepers, and brokers should be killed even if innocent. On this Yangtze passage, if they get greedy and decide to act, they could dump us in the river after and no one would know. I’ll keep watch at night—better not let anything happen.”
As Sun Debiao spoke, he took out his broomhandle Mauser and carefully wiped it with a cloth soaked in gun oil.
Fang Wen, however, was connecting with the ship through mechanical perception.
This was a coal-fired steamship. In the forward engine room, two workers were vigorously shoveling coal into the boiler.
Though primitive, the power was stable, allowing long-term navigation on the water.
The entire ship had 6 people: the long-gown ship owner, two stokers, the helmsman, the head chef in the kitchen, and one handyman.
Besides them, just Fang Wen and Sun Debiao.
Through mechanical perception, Fang Wen had a clear grasp of the situation inside the ship. There was no real danger.
But heading to Western Hunan, a poor area with little machinery and equipment, wouldn’t his supernatural ability be useless?
Fang Wen reached for the cross hanging ornament on his chest. Faint energy continuously infused his body, but there had been no changes.
Was there no change, or had he not noticed?
Fang Wen was uncertain. He’d been too busy lately to test it.
He felt a bit weary and lay down on the wooden board fully clothed, falling asleep unknowingly.
Two hours later, Fang Wen woke up.
Looking around, he was still in the room. Where was Sun Debiao?
He looked toward the door. Sun Debiao had found a stool and was sitting behind the door on guard.
He couldn’t help but sigh. He’d been too busy lately, working non-stop. The penicillin and napalm matters couldn’t be entrusted to others, so he had to handle everything personally.
He was really tired. Unexpectedly, the most relaxing time was on this ship.
He couldn’t help but think of the unfinished business due to his sudden trip.
Too busy—even no time to see Sixth Sister’s teacher who had just been released from prison.
And his high school classmate Min Bangren, the one from Nanyuan Flight School with whom he had letter correspondence. He had sent a message saying he was coming to visit Taishan Airlines, but Fang Wen had changed his itinerary temporarily, so they could only meet later.
As he thought, his mind returned to his supernatural ability.
Would his supernatural ability have no support on this Western Hunan trip?
Currently known: by touching mechanical structure objects, he could gain mechanical perception, achieving human-machine unity.
Achievable mechanical structure objects: airplane, car, ship.
Among them, since he mainly developed airplane applications, his airplane driving ability was the strongest.
In other cases, were there special abilities?
Fang Wen remembered something.
Right, why had he forgotten that.
Security gate.
The security gate was also a mechanical structure and a special electromagnetic field. If he achieved human-machine unity with it, couldn’t he gain perspective eye ability through electromagnetic field sensing?!
If feasible, miniaturizing electromagnetic equipment or installing it in airplanes and cars would add a detection function.
Even later, when onboard radar appeared, his ability would grow stronger accordingly.
But now he was already on the river—only after finishing business and returning.
Fang Wen felt regretful but didn’t give up exploring his ability and continued attempting.
A day passed quickly. Eating and staying on the ship wasn’t pleasant.
This referred to Sun Debiao.
The 1.8-meter tall man from the Northeast endured for a few hours before finally revealing his landlubber nature.
And he got seasick—severely.
He vomited until only clear water came out, still unrelenting, and eventually couldn’t get out of bed.
Now it was good—the day’s water journey turned into Fang Wen taking care of him.
For this, they had to disembark at Yueyang dock. Fang Wen simply rented a room at an inn nearby the dock for Sun Debiao to rest and recover.
After a day of rest, Sun Debiao could finally get out of bed.
He swung his arms: “Alright. I’ve passed this water ordeal. No need to fear it anymore.”
“Is that so? Then shall we continue by ship?” Fang Wen asked jokingly.
Unexpectedly, Sun Debiao nodded seriously: “We have to take the ship. I heard from the boat family that the water route to Western Hunan is the safest and most convenient. General Manager, don’t worry—I won’t get seasick again.”
Fang Wen was skeptical but switched with Sun Debiao to a passenger ship heading to Changde. On this leg, he really didn’t get seasick or vomit again—just spent more time in the toilet.
