Chapter 83: Zhu Lan's Probing Methods
The feasibility of modular manufacturing meant that Zhu Lan did not choose a war mode based on electronic forms, but opted for one rooted in reality. Calculating at eighty thousand per aircraft, a hundred would amount to just eight million; such a sum was nothing to the second-generation elites of the country. Their last visit to a club cost over a million, and high-end clubs even approached ten million. Playing a real war game would only cost a few million, and even if the price went up to ten million, there would still be those willing to play.
“But it’s not just that. The Air Force simulations might not be of much use to you, but what about the others?”
“The others?”
“What kind of fighter is the -14 Panda?” Zhu Lan asked, smiling at Luo Guoqiang.
“A carrier-based aircraft? You want to play at sea?” Luo Guoqiang, as the commander of the South Sea, oversaw the greatest strength here—naval power. This was one of China’s three major naval bases, and one of its two nuclear submarine mother ports. The strategic nuclear submarines roaming the Indian Ocean and South Pacific all departed from here.
Zhu Lan nodded. “Exactly. That’s why I chose the coast. In a war scenario, nothing beats naval combat. Not just for the military—naval battles are far more interesting than other forms of warfare, whether it’s carrier fleets, battleship formations, or submarine warfare.”
“You really dare to dream!” Luo Guoqiang was thoroughly stunned by Zhu Lan’s ideas, and Li Hongjin was no less astonished.
In reality, only six nations in the world can build aircraft carriers: the United States, Russia, the United Kingdom, France, India, and China. Except for the US, which has strong and mature manufacturing experience, the other five countries struggle, with even Britain needing American support to build new carriers.
But scale changes everything. Take a real aircraft carrier, for example: US carriers are typically over three hundred meters long. If the carrier-based aircraft is the Panda, the length can be reduced fivefold, since the Panda itself is only one-fifth the size of its real counterpart.
Thus, only a sixty-meter-long carrier would be needed. Of course, to account for takeoff and landing difficulties, an eighty to one hundred meter carrier could be built.
At Canglan Base, Red Queen had already begun collecting data on US aircraft carriers from the Cold War era, waiting only for a shipyard to start manufacturing.
“Zhu Lan, you really have brought me a huge headache!” Luo Guoqiang exclaimed.
Aircraft carriers—Zhu Lan truly dared to dream big, and Luo Guoqiang was completely taken aback.
“Report!”
A soldier approached Luo Guoqiang, saluted, and awaited orders.
“Qin Ge, go test that thing!” Luo Guoqiang handed the control device to Qin Ge, pointing to the Leopard 2 tank on the flatbed truck.
Qin Ge took it, nodding. Even before arriving, Qin Ge had already seen the tank on the flatbed, as had many soldiers. Yet with Luo Guoqiang and Li Hongjin nearby, they couldn’t approach, and discipline dictated that curiosity could only afford a glance before returning to their duties.
Luo Guoqiang no longer looked at Zhu Lan; Li Hongjin opened his mouth but said nothing.
Qin Ge quickly figured out the controls, directing several men to open the flatbed’s doors and remove the shells, then carefully maneuvered the Leopard 2 off the truck.
Once on the ground, Qin Ge drove it toward the nearby firing range, with Luo Guoqiang, Li Hongjin, and Zhu Lan following.
The Leopard 2 drew considerable attention along the way—not only was it unlike any tank currently in service, but it was also somewhat smaller.
Compared to a real Leopard 2, this one was about one-third the size, perhaps slightly larger.
At the firing range, Qin Ge, under Luo Guoqiang’s direction, began operating the Leopard 2: maximum speed, sudden stops, rapid rotation to aim, and then—bang!
The shell flew out. It was a blank round and didn’t explode, but everyone could see it strike the soil beside the target.
Qin Ge was indeed skilled; after a few tries, he operated the Leopard 2 as if it were a real tank. Though the first shot missed by a wide margin, subsequent attempts were increasingly accurate.
On the final shot, Qin Ge found his rhythm and fired again. This time, the shell struck the target dead on. Though it didn’t blow the target apart, the force knocked it askew. Even with a blank round, the Leopard 2’s shells still packed tremendous impact.
Luo Guoqiang said nothing during the demonstration, silently observing.
Once the shells were spent, Luo Guoqiang gave a brief instruction, then turned to Zhu Lan, sighing, “Zhu Lan, you’d better go back now. I need to consult higher authorities on this matter—it’s beyond my jurisdiction.”
Zhu Lan simply nodded. “Alright, thank you, Commander Luo. I’ll take my leave—you carry on!” With that, Zhu Lan turned and departed.
“Is this really a good idea?” Li Hongjin, who had held back for quite some time, finally voiced his concern as Zhu Lan left.
Luo Guoqiang didn’t reply, but turned to look at the Leopard 2, where Qin Ge was inspecting it.
“Haven’t you noticed?”
“Noticed what?” Li Hongjin was puzzled.
“Zhu Lan is testing our limits.”
“Testing?” The word made Li Hongjin instantly alert. After thinking it over, he began to understand, but not entirely.
“What exactly is Zhu Lan testing?”
“Quantum communication satellites—that’s what Zhu Lan is probing, to see the limits our military can tolerate. Normally, it’s impossible to gauge our boundaries, but what if he tries another approach?”
Li Hongjin suddenly understood. So that’s it.
Quantum communication satellites had already received higher-level approval. Though the official documents hadn’t arrived, in theory, Zhu Lan could begin preparations ahead of time.
Not just quantum communication—even the satellite itself posed a question. Without a precedent for civilian manufacturing, Zhu Lan couldn’t know where the military’s tolerance lay. If he built satellites that were too advanced, they might be requisitioned for national use the very next day.
If he understood the boundaries, manufacturing could proceed smoothly and purposefully, staying within those limits.
Satellite manufacturing was a massive project, with investments estimated in the billions. If mishandled, those investments could vanish overnight.
“What a situation!” Now that Li Hongjin understood, he was quite helpless regarding Zhu Lan’s approach.
“Isn’t this an opportunity?” Luo Guoqiang grinned, gesturing to the Leopard 2.
“Do you really intend to…?”
“Of course. There’s no downside for us—it can help with training. It might not be entirely realistic, but experience can be accumulated, and it’s far superior to simulators. It saves resources, so why not?”
Li Hongjin naturally knew Luo Guoqiang was not referring to the Leopard 2, but to Zhu Lan’s proposed aircraft carriers.
Actually, news of China’s new aircraft carrier had already circulated since last year. Not only was its construction widely discussed, but even the selection of its home port was thoroughly scrutinized by military enthusiasts and experts at home and abroad.
In the end, many believed Sanya Naval Base was China’s first carrier home port. Following that, new docks were built at Sanya, and satellite imagery revealed these were specifically for carriers. Thus, Sanya was widely confirmed as China’s first true carrier base.
Satellites from the US and other countries noticed similar carrier training grounds in southern China, but these could only serve initial training; actual carrier operations required far more rigorous drills.
Now, with Zhu Lan’s proposed model carriers and the formidable -14 Panda, Luo Guoqiang had new ideas. A simple carrier was not difficult to build—any shipyard could do it—but a real one was another matter.
The -14 Panda was only one-fifth the size of the original, and Zhu Lan promised a very low manufacturing cost. It was entirely within the realm of expendable resources, not too troublesome. The carrier itself need only be built to look the part, with steam catapults and the like added.
“This matter is beyond our authority. Let’s report it and see what the higher-ups think. I’m in favor, at least!” Li Hongjin laughed.
“Old Li, you might end up the biggest beneficiary!” Luo Guoqiang knew exactly what Li Hongjin was thinking. If such a model carrier were built and sailed out to sea with carrier-based aircraft, what would other countries think?
They’d surely want to know what it was—could it be China’s latest weapon?
Foreign spies would intensify their efforts, giving Li Hongjin the chance to shine.
Since taking over as intelligence center director, Li Hongjin had been frustrated, catching only small fry. He was eager to showcase his abilities.
He wanted to set traps, but the higher-ups wouldn’t approve. Now, the opportunity had arrived. Once Zhu Lan’s war club was established, other nations’ intelligence centers would be suspicious and might dispatch spies. That would let Li Hongjin set the stage and wait for the fish to bite—a golden opportunity. Most importantly, the war club was purely civilian, containing no military secrets whatsoever. It was the perfect deal—why not do it?
“Drive!”
Zhu Lan isolated the front and rear, opened his laptop, and Red Queen’s image appeared on the screen.
“Boss, was everything smooth?”
“With me involved, it’s always smooth. The first step is done—prepare the materials, and we’ll take the next step soon!”
Red Queen nodded. “No problem, I’m organizing the documents now. They’ll be on your desk shortly.”
Zhu Lan nodded.
Testing the military was only one reason for Zhu Lan’s war club. More importantly, Zhu Lan was attempting to manufacture highly precise items as preparation for his grand aerospace plan.
Nothing is more precise than military weaponry—the crystallization of human technological achievement. North Korea, for example, develops aerospace technology mainly to advance its military missile capabilities.
The war club was merely a cover, allowing Zhu Lan to gradually infiltrate the military domain. That’s why he didn’t choose more advanced fourth or fifth generation fighters, but instead opted for the two-and-a-half generation -14, simply to avoid suspicion.
For Kong Yan and Red Queen, building the most advanced -22 would not be difficult, but it would take longer.
This was only Zhu Lan’s first step. Once the war club was up and running, he could slowly introduce advanced technologies, culminating in aerospace advancements—launching spacecraft, exploring the solar system. Imagination-driven technology is almost omnipotent, but there must be a reason.
Zhu Lan disliked slow progress, preferring rapid advancement, and direct contact with the aerospace sector was best. That’s why he proposed quantum satellite manufacturing, though it was still insufficient—he needed to access more, such as spaceplanes, space freighters, even space elevators and space cities. These were all part of Zhu Lan’s plan from the beginning; now, implementation was just beginning!
(To be continued.)