Chapter 36 Aiming for the Canton Fair!

This wasn't the kind of clumsy, bulky, crude iron lump found on the market.

It featured a deep, cold "Aerospace Blue" coating.

Under the compression of Li Jianguo's high-gloss aluminum mold,

it forced the recycled PP material to reflect a metallic texture like tank armor.

Even the rear housing of the motor was full of design "finesse."

Lin Xi discarded the traditional cylinder and directly replicated the streamlined "bullet" curve of the red star no. 2 satellite's power module.

Coupled with the faintly visible NACA submerged inlets on both sides—

this wasn't just a fan; it was industrial aesthetics shoved right in your face.

"This... this is a fan?"

Sun Erga reached halfway out before pulling back, vigorously rubbing the sweat off his hands on his pants, fearing the oil on his hands would desecrate this treasure.

"Good heavens, why do I feel like this thing looks even more premium than the precision instruments at our base?"

Lin Xi didn't speak; he extended a slender finger and lightly touched the row of ivory-white piano-key switches on the base.

*Click.*

A crisp, clean mechanical feedback sound; the tactile feel was excellent.

Immediately after, the five translucent blades instantly transformed into a blurred shadow.

Everyone subconsciously took a step back.

In this era, the noise of a fan starting up was similar to a helicopter taking off, often accompanied by earth-shaking vibrations.

However, one second, two seconds...

The world was eerily quiet.

Due to the physical suppression of the concrete base,

coupled with Wang Dapao's missile-grade dynamic balance tuning,

the entire machine was as steady as a rock.

The enamel mug placed at the edge of the table didn't even show a single ripple on its water surface.

Only the faint "rustle" of the blades cutting through the air remained, like silkworms eating leaves.

"Is it broken? It's not spinning?"

Before anyone could react,

a laminar gentle breeze, as if blowing from deep within a forest, instantly smoothed away the sweltering heat in the workshop.

It wasn't the harsh, face-slapping airflow of a three-blade fan.

Instead, it was like delicate, even, seemingly all-pervasive silk, gently wrapping around the skin.

Liu Guihua closed her eyes with a look of intoxication, as if she had returned to her eighteen-year-old self cooling off under the shade of a tree.

"Good Lord... why does this breeze feel so comfortable in my heart?"

"It's like someone is giving me a massage."

Inside the livestream room, things had completely exploded.

[This kind of industrial aesthetics—if put in a 2025 product launch, some 'Jobs' could brag about it for half an hour!]

[This silent effect, this blade curvature—it's a dimensional strike, an absolute dimensional strike!]

[Streamer, please post the link! Mail me one, I also want to feel this 1980s forest breeze.]

After a long silence,

Liu Guihua opened her eyes, her voice trembling slightly, even carrying a hint of the humility of someone who hadn't seen much of the world.

"Manager Lin..."

"This thing we made... it's too good."

"So good that it makes my heart... panic."

She carefully touched the mirror-smooth casing:

"Can a group of us—shoe repairers and pot menders, idle people looked down upon by others—really make such a divine object?"

"Are we... worthy of selling it? Shouldn't this be sold for an astronomical price?"

This sense of refinement that transcended the era gave them an instinctive awe of industrial power.

*Thud!*

Lin Xi lifted the fan with one hand and slammed it down onto the workbench. The concrete base made a dull, powerful thud, jolting everyone awake.

Lin Xi's gaze was like a torch as he swept his eyes over everyone, his tone carrying an unquestionable dominance:

"If we only sell it to our fellow workers at the base, *that* would be unworthy."

"Erga, Sister Liu, you need to broaden your horizons."

"What I want isn't to be a big fish in this small pond."

"We're going to take it to Shanghai, to Guangzhou, to the Canton Fair!"

"We want to make those foreign businessmen, who are used to imported goods, understand what a dimensional strike brought by China Aerospace is!"

"Manager Lin, the... Canton Fair?"

Sun Erga swallowed hard, his voice wavering.

"That's right, the Canton Fair."

Lin Xi answered decisively!

Erga said, "It's not that easy to get a spot at the Canton Fair!"

"Every participating unit goes there with a mission."

"We're just a Service Center; are we qualified?"

Lin Xi said, his tone full of confidence:

"Definitely."

...

The eighth day of the first lunar month: auspicious for travel, auspicious for acquiring wealth.

Inside the Fifth Workshop, Lin Xi slapped a thick mimeographed booklet onto the table.

On the cover were five large characters—"The Idiot's Manual."

"Big Cannon, practice according to this."

Lin Xi pointed to the hand-drawn exploded diagrams in the booklet,

"This is a nanny-level tutorial."

"There are more pictures than words; even those who are illiterate can understand it."

"Where to oil and where to tighten screws are all marked in red."

"This is called an SOP, Standard Operating Procedure."

Wang Dapao flipped through a few pages, his eyes bulging.

This wasn't just an operating manual; it was practically spoon-feeding him.

Every step was broken down to the extreme; even the number of turns for a screw was specified.

Lin Xi brushed the dust off his hands, his tone serious:

"While I'm away, I'm leaving the workshop to you and Sister Liu."

"First, manufacture the little suns according to the plan."

"If the quality slips, I'll hold you solely responsible when I get back."

"Don't worry!" Wang Dapao thumped his chest loudly.

"If a single screw is missing or any defective product gets out, I'll twist my head off and let you kick it like a ball!"

Lin Xi smiled, turned to pick up the case containing the deluxe version of "red star · gentle breeze," and pushed the door open.

The snow outside had already melted, revealing the hard frozen ground beneath.

It was time to go see the real "Big Buddha."

...

General Command Headquarters, Elder Qian's office.

The heating in the room was turned up high, and the air was thick with the smell of tobacco.

Elder Qian held an internal reference document, his brows furrowed.

It was an analysis of the latest aerodynamic layout of the Lighthouse Country's McDonnell Douglas F-15 Fighter Jet; a huge technological gap was evident between the lines.

"Elder Qian."

Lin Xi entered and gently placed the case on the corner of the desk.

Elder Qian put down the document and rubbed his brow:

"You're here? Did you bring the item?"

Lin Xi didn't waste words and directly opened the case.

The deep blue "red star · gentle breeze" lay quietly in the velvet lining.

Elder Qian glanced at it.

When his gaze fell upon the five strangely twisted blades, his tired eyes instantly froze.

He stood up, strode over to the fan, and ran his finger along the edge of a blade.

The sensation from his fingertips told him that this wasn't just a piece of plastic.

"Plug it in." Elder Qian's voice was unreadable.

Lin Xi did as told.

*Click.* The piano key was pressed.

No vibration, no noise; only a tangible laminar gentle breeze brushed against his face.

Elder Qian closed his eyes, feeling the frequency of the airflow weaving through his fingers.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, which shone with two cold glints like sharp swords.

"This design..."

"Will it leak our technical secrets?"