UAAG CH5

Japan Airlines Flight JL917 crashed in a farmland one kilometer east of Vantaa Airport.

Six months had passed. This empty plot of land had long been cordoned off by Finnish officials, prohibiting others from entering until the accident investigation results were out.

UAAG had only been invited by the European Union Aviation Safety Agency (EASA) to participate in the investigation a few days ago. Now, UAAG requested another on-site collection, and more than twenty staff members entered the scene to conduct the final collection work.

Fu Cheng lifted the yellow cordon and bent down to enter the crash site.

On the roughly half-square-kilometer land, wild grass grew in the wind. But amidst these weeds, patches of scorched earth lay one after another, like stubborn ringworm on human skin, shockingly mottled before their eyes.

JL917 carried 140 tons of fuel at takeoff. Upon landing, less than 5 tons remained in the left and right wings.

It was precisely because the fuel hadn’t been exhausted that an explosion occurred when the plane crashed, burning the farmland like this.

Fu Cheng thought to himself: So, fuel exhaustion is ruled out as a cause.

Fuel exhaustion sounds like an absurd reason, yet it has happened more than once in the history of human aviation disasters.

On December 28, 1978, United Airlines Flight 173 crashed because the two pilots were solely focused on fixing a faulty instrument and failed to notice the fuel running out.

On August 6, 2005, Tuninter Flight 1153 was loaded with 2 tons less fuel due to a faulty fuel gauge, ultimately failing to reach its destination and ditching in the sea.

Fu Cheng composed himself.

Today was a sunny day. A cool breeze blew from the azure waves of the Gulf of Finland, carrying a hint of salty sea air. Fu Cheng seemingly inadvertently glanced at the man standing not far away. He saw him with hands in his pockets, looking up at the sky, eyes slightly closed.

His somewhat long hair was blown back by the wind.

He seemed to be listening to the sound of the wind.

The next moment, this picture was instantly broken. Fu Cheng hurriedly looked away as Zhuo Huan approached unhurriedly, his slightly cool voice sounding from behind him: “Remeasure the initial impact point, ground fire area, flight path…”

Meanwhile, at UAAG investigation headquarters.

“Fuel exhaustion has been ruled out, so that leaves aircraft system failure, weather reasons, and human factors?” Su Fei held the JL917 accident data in his hand but hadn’t read a word. Stretching his neck, he said curiously, “Feels pretty simple.”

Old Joseph looked at him amusedly: “Simple? Weather reasons can almost be ruled out. It was a rare fine day in Helsinki that day, clear weather, wind speed 5-15 knots. You couldn’t find such good weather again even if you tried.”

Su Fei clapped his hands: “Then isn’t it even simpler? Only aircraft system failure and human factors remain.”

“Human factors depend on the black box. Maybe the CVR (Cockpit Voice Recorder) will give us the answer, but the black box is currently being repaired at McFly’s headquarters. The explosion happened to destroy the core part of the black box.”

The punk teenager stood up abruptly, suddenly realizing: “RIP begged me to come just for this!”

Old Joseph laughed heartily. He flipped through the 3D model of the accident on his computer and muttered, “Speaking of which, this is a McFly plane. Did Reid participate in designing this plane?” He turned to look at Lina beside him.

Lina smiled: “The F435 is a plane from the 1990s; Reid was just born then. Of course, as far as I know, he didn’t participate in the subsequent improvements either.”

“I see.”

At the crash site, EASA investigators began scanning the scene.

After scanning like this, the data could be used directly to build models back at base.

Fu Cheng carefully observed the entire crash site. Finally, he walked to the edge of the wasteland, squatted down, reached out, and touched a patch of scorched earth.

The touch was cold. This was the initial impact point. Half a year ago, JL917 embarked on its point of no return starting from here.

Japan Airlines JL917 used an F435 aircraft produced by McFly in 1991.

That plane… he had flown it too.

However, he didn’t notice that not far away, a man with lowered eyes was quietly watching him.

His black coat was wide open, billowing backwards in the wind. For as long as the black-haired young man touched the scorched earth, the man watched him. Halfway through, he even interestingly took out his phone, opened the clock, and wanted to start the stopwatch, but unfortunately, Fu Cheng stood up.

The black-haired young man walked up to him expressionlessly and said politely: “Teacher Zhuo, is there something you need?”

Zhuo Huan raised his eyebrows: “That obvious?”

Implying, was I watching you that obviously?

Fu Cheng: “…”

Fu Cheng said calmly: “Last night at the hotel, I looked up a lot of information about this air crash, but I still don’t understand why you transferred me to UAAG.” Pausing, he added, “I am just a pilot with no experience in aircraft accident investigation.”

Zhuo Huan: “There is an active-duty pilot from China Eastern Airlines on board, proficient in all current aircraft models, holding a flight qualification license for the ERJ-190—”

“If needed, I am ready at any time.”

His eyes widened abruptly.

“You were on that plane too?”

Whoa, dropped the honorifics.

A trace of a smile surfaced in Zhuo Huan’s eyes.

Thoughts swirled in Fu Cheng’s mind, and answers to many strange occurrences suddenly clicked.

What kind of person could attract the attention of LaGuardia Airport executives and be personally received in the crew lounge? Why, on an out-of-control plane, when he offered to help, did the captain reject his kindness?

Because of Zhuo Huan.

Because that person was Reid Irvin Patrick.

The top genius aircraft designer in the global aviation industry.

With amazing talent, he won the Wright Brothers Medal at 21. At 24, he became the chief engineer of McFly Aviation Manufacturing Company.

He might not fly that ERJ-190 from New York to Boston, but his understanding of that aircraft definitely surpassed everyone else on board at the time.

Flightradar once conducted a survey: at any given moment, there are 16,000 planes flying in the sky. Two thousand of them are McFly F475s.

The McFly F475 is McFly’s most successful commercial aircraft in thirty years.

And its chief designer is named Reid Irvin Patrick.

“Almost time to go back.” Zhuo Huan took a piece of gum from his pocket, threw it into his mouth, and offered one to Fu Cheng, “Want one?”

Fu Cheng looked at him with complicated feelings.

“Assuming you don’t want it.” Zhuo Huan directly took the gum back, put his hands in his pockets, and strode away. Halfway, he stopped, turned back to look at the black-haired young man standing in place, “By the way, I’m curious. What were you looking at for so long at the initial impact point just now?”

Fu Cheng didn’t speak.

Zhuo Huan assumed he didn’t have an answer either, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

Watching the man’s retreating figure, Fu Cheng’s eyes darkened, his face devoid of expression.

“Working with Zhuo Huan… is really suffocating.”

Fu Cheng turned around to see an EASA investigator standing beside him at some point.

This unfamiliar investigator with an Asian face smiled: “Hello, I’m Gao Yun, a Finnish-Chinese EASA investigator.”

Fu Cheng was about to introduce himself.

“I’ve heard of you, Major Fu, China’s youngest Air Force Major. You’re also a genius, transferring from military to civil aviation half a year ago for personal reasons. You’re a legend in the Chinese aviation industry. I still can’t believe someone can be proficient in all aircraft models. You’re also quite famous in our Chinese aviation circle. As for him…”

He turned his head to look at the man walking to the edge of the cordon.

Zhuo Huan.

The yellow cordon was nothing to this person; with a stride of his long legs, he stepped over it.

Gao Yun’s tone couldn’t hide his admiration and reverence, as if casually sighing with emotion: “Is there really anyone in the Chinese aviation industry who doesn’t worship Zhuo Huan?”

Worship?

Under the gradually setting sun, the black-haired young man’s face was backlit by the slightly intoxicated glow, the fine hairs on his face clearly visible. He hooked the corner of his mouth slightly, emitting a light laugh from his nasal cavity.

As soon as Fu Cheng returned to the investigation team headquarters, the punk teenager came up to him.

Although Fu Cheng didn’t feel their relationship was particularly good, Su Fei waved enthusiastically at him first, then looked at Zhuo Huan, his face changing abruptly: “Heh, RIP, I already know what you were trying to do by tricking me into this UAAG back in Boston. Hand it over, the black box of JAL 917. I’ll take charge of repairing it for you. If even I can’t fix it, absolutely no one in this world can.”

Zhuo Huan sneered: “So confident?”

Su Fei was furious, but before he could speak, Old Joseph came out to smooth things over: “Reid, do you know who you are provoking?”

Su Fei puffed out his chest.

Zhuo Huan lazily extended his hand and picked his ear: “Who?”

Old Joseph coughed: “Won the IMO gold medal at 13, nominated for the Turing Award at 16, graduated with a master’s degree from Harvard at 17.”

“…Now a famous scholar sought after by major frontier companies in the industry, Mr. Fly Su.”

Zhuo Huan: “Hmm? Wait, isn’t it Sophie?”

Sophie.

Su Fei. (Sounds like Sophie)

Su Fei: “…”

Lina: “…”

Old Joseph spread his hands: Fine, whoever wants to be the nice guy can do it.

Fu Cheng: “Pfft.”

Everyone’s gaze swept towards him in unison.

Even Zhuo Huan looked at him in surprise.

Fu Cheng: “…”

…Just, don’t you guys think it’s actually pretty funny?

The punk teenager flew into a rage from shame: “And to think I treated you as my best friend here! Break off relations! Break off relations!”

The crowd burst into laughter.

After some noise, everyone soon went back to do their own things.

Under the moonlight, Fu Cheng was looking through photos of the plane wreckage taken previously by EASA, when suddenly a shadow blocked the light. He raised his head.

This man truly possessed looks to match his fame. Even from a death angle looking up from below, that perfect jawline and high nose bridge were impeccable.

Fu Cheng’s lips moved. After a long while, his voice was calm: “Teacher Zhuo?”

Zhuo Huan took a piece of gum from his pocket.

“It’s a reward, cold joke partner.”

—

Author’s Note:
A beast like a sheep: A fierce beast disguised as a sheep.
That sentence was said by Mr. Lu Xun~

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