Chapter 51: War Calls for the Lighthouse Nation – First Victory!

Meanwhile, on the other side of the ocean. Lighthouse Country, Virginia, Langley.

In a windowless combat analysis room, the projector beam looked particularly harsh amidst the swirling smoke. On the screen, a high-definition enlarged image of the "Red Star" fan blade was being displayed.

"Gentlemen, the situation is more serious than we imagined." An intelligence officer in a gray suit pointed at the screen, his tone anxious. "This is not just a fan."

"Look at this edge treatment on the blade, and this recessed flow channel design." "If this noise-reduction technology were magnified a hundred times and applied to submarine propellers..." The intelligence officer paused, his voice lowering. "It could make our sonar systems deaf."

Around the conference table, several military bigwigs with stars on their shoulders straightened up immediately, looking at each other with eyes full of shock and suspicion. Submarine noise-reduction technology from the Soviet Union had always been their greatest concern. Could it be that that ancient great eastern nation had already made breakthrough progress in the field of fluid dynamics?

"Ahem." From the corner came a cough full of arrogance. An old man with gray hair and thick-rimmed glasses stood up. He was the chief aerodynamics expert specially hired by the Pentagon, Professor Smith from Stanford University.

"This kind of deduction is simply absurd hysteria." Professor Smith walked to the screen, holding a pointer in his hand, and tapped the base of the fan blade unceremoniously. "Is this what you call 'black technology'?"

The professor pointed to that seemingly inconspicuous little protrusion at the base of the blade. It was a "blunder" that Lin Xi had deliberately left behind during design. In the eyes of ordinary people, it was decoration; in the eyes of amateurs, it was mysterious eastern metaphysics; but in the eyes of top experts, it was a fatal flaw.

"See this reverse vortex generation structure?" Professor Smith pushed up his glasses, a mocking smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. "On a low-speed fan, this structure can indeed reduce noise and increase the softness of the wind." "But!" The professor's voice rose sharply. "Once the rotation speed exceeds 3000 revolutions per minute, or if it is applied in an underwater high-pressure environment, this structure will produce a violent cavitation effect."

"If a submarine used this design, as soon as it accelerated, the propeller would shatter itself due to cavitation bubble implosions!" "This is not cutting-edge technology at all." Professor Smith threw the pointer onto the table and delivered his verdict. "This is just a piece of opportunistic industrial cleverness designed purely for civilian comfort."

"One could even say that this design approach is very naive, completely failing to consider operating conditions at high Mach numbers." (See Chapter 37) "The Chinese..." The professor shook his head, looking regretful and disdainful. "In terms of basic fluid dynamics theory, they are at least 10 years behind us."

Phew— A sigh of relief echoed through the conference room. The generals relaxed their furrowed brows and leaned back into their chairs. "I knew it." A lieutenant general lit a cigar. "They can't even get enough to eat; how could they possibly come up with something like this?" "Since it's just a civilian toy, there's no need to worry about it."

The intelligence officer awkwardly put away the documents. "Then... do we still need to continue monitoring this 'Red Star' company?" "No need to waste taxpayers' money." Professor Smith snorted coldly. "Instead of staring at these people making electric fans, we should pay more attention to the Soviet Union's titanium alloy submarines." The lights came on. The file was casually thrown into the shredder.

These elites on the other side of the ocean did not know. That flaw they mocked as "naive" was exactly the smokescreen Lin Xi had carefully prepared for them. And that conclusion of being "10 years behind" would become the strongest protective umbrella for China's aerospace industry in the coming years.

In the Northwest Gobi at the end of June, the sun was so scorching it felt like it was raining fire. After arranging matters in Shanghai, Lin Xi returned to the launch base.

"Brother Lin! My dear brother!" Just as he stepped over the threshold, a round figure pounced over. Sun Dafu, the manager of the department store, was beaming, his fat face crinkled up with laughter, and he was brandishing a report in his hand. "It's crazy! It's all crazy!" Sun Dafu's voice was as loud as a broken gong. "Our 'Red Star · gentle breeze' simplified version, priced at 28 yuan." "It's like dropping an atomic bomb into the fan market!"

Lin Xi took the report and glanced at it, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. 28 yuan. This price had been carefully calculated by him. By removing those flashy decorations and retaining the core motor and fan blades, it directly breached the defenses of all state-owned factories. You have to know, the cheapest three-blade iron fan from the Shanghai Huashang Factory still sold for 150 yuan, and it required an industrial coupon.

"Now, whether it's the supply and marketing cooperatives or the department store, as soon as the goods arrive, they are snapped up in ten minutes!" Sun Dafu wiped away greasy sweat, trembling with excitement. "Those scalpers wanted to hoard goods." "But we limited purchases to one per person!" "The director of the Huashang Factory's office in the Northwest came to drink with me yesterday and cried so miserably." "He said their inventory is almost hitting the rafters; they can't sell anything at all!"

"Normal." Lin Xi walked behind his desk and sat down, unscrewing a bottle of soda. "This is called dimensionality reduction attack." "When industrial products become luxury goods, we restore them to daily necessities; whoever blocks us dies."

Just then, the phone on the desk rang suddenly. Lin Xi picked up the phone, and Harrison's frantic voice came through the receiver immediately. "Lin! Something happened! Those damn Japanese!" Harrison's speech was as fast as a machine gun. "They released a copycat product! It's identical!"

Lin Xi raised an eyebrow: "Don't rush, Robert, tell me slowly." "I can't be slow! It's 'Triangle Appliances'!" "That bunch of thieves who only know how to copy!" Harrison roared. "Their appearance is exactly the same as 'Red Star', even the curvature of the fan blades is replicated!" "But they are quoting only 25 dollars!" "5 dollars lower than us!" "Walmart, that greedy vampire, has already purchased 50,000 units!" "They want to bring the price war to the doorstep of Sears Department Store!" "Lin, if you don't lower the price, our market share will be finished!"

In the livestream chat, the barrage exploded instantly. [Holy crap! The Japs have entered the village? This is too shameless!] [25 dollars? This is vicious competition! The Streamer is going to take a hit this time!] [This is what they call teaching the apprentice and starving the master; patenting appearance was hard to defend in that era, right?] [Streamer, hurry up and lower the price to fight them!]

Lin Xi took a sip of soda, the ice-cold liquid sliding down his throat, suppressing the summer heat. "Robert, don't worry."