*(Some content has been omitted due to content policy conflicts)*

Feng Yong's mind was buzzing.

Product iteration?

Obsolete goods?

Trade obsolete goods for money to develop newer, more powerful equipment?

This... this approach, he'd never heard anything like it from any general or marshal in Western Europe!

The old empires all hoarded their new weapons, terrified of others learning their secrets.

But with Zhang Xueming, they were treated like cabbage to be sold off at will?

And from the sound of it, as soon as they equipped the Type 2, funding for the Type 3 and subsequent models was already clearly allocated.

Looking at Zhang Xueming's young yet profound face, Feng Yong suddenly felt that everything he'd learned abroad, all his theories on aerial combat and industrial systems, seemed as simple as a blank sheet of paper compared to his brother.

"Xueming... you, you said the Type 2 Tank has already been built?" Feng Yong's voice was a little hoarse; he needed confirmation.

"Of course," Zhang Xueming nodded matter-of-factly. "Otherwise, why would I have sold the Type 1 so guilt-free?"

Feng Yong took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the storm raging in his heart.

The Northeast was rich in resources; the whole world knew that.

But its industry was weak; that was also a global consensus.

Yet now, it seemed this consensus had been completely overturned by his good brother!

"I want to see it!" Feng Yong's eyes instantly blazed with fervor. "Take me to your Anshan Arms Industrial Park right now!"

He grabbed Zhang Xueming's arm with astonishing strength.

He couldn't wait to witness firsthand what kind of industrial behemoth Zhang Xueming had hidden behind the scenes!

Suddenly, he thought of something, and his expression turned wary.

"Xueming, let me be clear," Feng Yong stared at him. "Don't try any tricks on me. You sold obsolete tanks to the Prussians, so you're not going to fob me off with some shoddy biplane, are you?"

"Let me tell you, I studied at the British Royal Air Force! I can tell a good plane from a bad one at a glance! If you dare to try and fool me with some junk that can't fly three hundred kilometers, I... I'm done with you!"

Seeing Feng Yong's "you dare lie to me and I'll fight you to the death" stance, Zhang Xueming was thoroughly amused.

"Alright, alright, my great aviator Feng," he said, smiling as he patted Feng Yong's hand. "Come with me, I guarantee you a big surprise."

Zhang Xueming led Feng Yong and the group of still-proud British officers through the command post towards a massive warehouse in the rear.

The warehouse was constructed entirely of reinforced concrete. The double doors alone were over ten meters high, exuding a solemn and heavy industrial aura.

Guards stepped forward and worked together to turn a winch. The heavy iron doors slowly opened to the sides with a grating sound that made one's teeth ache.

The moment the gap opened, Feng Yong's breath hitched.

He saw it.

A cold, metallic gleam of silver-gray.

As the doors opened completely, a fighter jet with a sleek, beautiful design, brimming with power and speed, sat quietly in the center of the hangar.

It lacked the cumbersome struts and wires of traditional biplanes, featuring a simple, clean monoplane design.

The fuselage was no longer fabric and wood, but a gleaming metal shell, with rivets clearly visible under the lights, outlining its robust form.

What made Feng Yong's pupils contract the most was its cockpit!

It wasn't a crude open cockpit, but a crystal-clear, fully enclosed bubble canopy!

This... how was this possible!

Feng Yong rushed forward in three quick steps. He reached out, his hand trembling as he caressed the cold metal fuselage, feeling its unique texture.

"Xueming... this..." His voice was shaking.

"Jian-1 Fighter Jet," Zhang Xueming walked up to him, his tone casual, yet each word dropped like a heavy bomb.

"All-metal stressed skin construction."

"Equipped with a 'Kirin' V12 liquid-cooled engine, produced by our own Fengtian Engine Factory, with a stable output of 820 horsepower."

"Armament consists of two 7.62mm aircraft machine guns mounted on the wings."

"Oh, and I've also equipped the pilot with a radio for easy communication with ground control and friendly aircraft."

With every sentence Zhang Xueming spoke, Feng Yong's eyes widened further.

When he heard the word "radio," Feng Yong felt as if he'd been electrocuted.

He abruptly turned his head, staring intently at Zhang Xueming, his eyes filled with ecstatic disbelief.

"Really? Did we really build it ourselves?"

"A radio! A radio on an airplane! My god! Do you know what this means? It means aerial combat will no longer be a duel of lone wolves! This is a revolution in tactics!"

Like a child who had received his favorite toy, he circled the aircraft, muttering to himself, the light in his eyes almost overflowing.

And the British officers behind him, their arrogance had long since vanished.

In its place was a deep shock and... fear.

As a world-class Air Force, they knew better than anyone what a terrifying aerial monster this combination of parameters, spoken by Zhang Xueming, would create.