Chapter 9

Hu Wenhai said that the thing he was talking about was actually a "reflex sight" from the future, also known as a red dot sight or quick aim sight.

It can be mounted on the aiming line of a firearm, even replacing the traditional mechanical sights. It has the advantage of quick aiming and rapid shooting, allowing the shooter to aim without aligning the eye and the sight in a straight line, achieving a "what you see is what you get" effect.

The U.S. military began to equip these reflex red dot sights on a large scale from the mid-1990s. Even the magnified version was part of the U.S. Advanced Combat Rifle (ACR) program. Other countries, including China, also gradually introduced this technology to equip their regular armies, rapid response units, and special forces.

By the 21st century, the global market for red dot sights could reach a scale of tens of billions of dollars. Of course, this is mainly due to procurement by various national militaries, leaving little profit margin for civilian enterprises. However, it is still a market that can stir the heart.

There are two manufacturing challenges for reflex sights: one is the sight lens, which directly determines its aiming accuracy. The other is the lens coating, which can reflect the light source to the human eye.

Hu Wenhai didn't need to worry about the manufacturing of the sight lens, as he had the Eighth-Level Master Craftsman Hu Shiwu. The mold for lens processing, if made by him, would definitely be no problem. The issue of reflective coating was even easier to solve, using the same material as the head-up display (HUD) in modern vehicles, mainly silicon monoxide. This material has a refractive index of 1.98, much higher than that of ordinary glass.

After several light interferences, an infinitely distant virtual light point can be obtained.

However, whether it's the HUD refraction technology, silicon monoxide material, or the reflective lens, none of them are high-tech!

This is precisely what Hu Wenhai values the most. In the future, due to patent restrictions, the price of red dot sights remains high. Otherwise, a bunch of Chinese knock-off factories would be eyeing the market, and there would be cheap toys available on Taobao. Even in the 1980s, these materials were readily available in China. As long as the raw materials could be procured, products of acceptable quality could be produced.

In essence, a red dot sight is just a layer of window paper. Its principle is not much different from the HUD on a fighter jet. It's just that subconsciously, people think that the high-tech used on fighter jets can't be applied to rifles.

Hu Wenhai's father, Hu Jiefang, was the factory manager of a military factory, and the 64th Institute, as an electro-optical research institute, had also worked on military projects. Even if Bai Shi didn't understand military matters, he could easily grasp this simple principle.

After all, the two-point aiming method is definitely superior to the three-point method, and the market potential is undeniable.

The rhythmic sound of the train wheels rolling over the tracks echoed in the 1980s-style green train car. Hu Wenhai, somewhat bored, was reading a book.

"Pi Pilu and Lu Xixi? Why are you reading this?" Si Xingu was somewhat surprised, looking at the cover of the book in Hu Wenhai's hand, which featured a silly boy in suspenders scratching his head. Regardless of the content, the cover design was clearly aimed at a younger audience.

Hu Wenhai, however, showed no embarrassment, smiling and shaking the book. "Don't underestimate Zheng Yuanjie, Grandpa Si. Although he writes fairy tales, he is far more thoughtful than 90% of Chinese literary writers. It's a pity to give this to children with no social experience; it's perfect for adults to read and learn from."

As Hu Wenhai was speaking, the train's intercom suddenly began to broadcast. The two of them listened carefully and realized that the provincial capital of Bohai Province, Shengjing Station, was approaching.

Hearing that their destination was near, Hu Wenhai and Si Xingu lost their enthusiasm for conversation. They packed up the food and books they had brought along and took their luggage down from the overhead compartment early.

In 2015, the journey from Xiucheng to Shengjing took only two to three hours, but in the 1980s, it took a full eight hours. Spending such a long time in the stuffy green train car was not a pleasant experience for Hu Wenhai, who had not endured much hardship, or for Si Xingu, who was already somewhat elderly.

So as soon as the train stopped, the two of them quickly picked up their luggage and followed the crowd out.

Shengjing, as a heavy industrial city, could be described as the cradle of New China's industry. Even in the 1980s, the city's population had already reached five to six million. With so many people gathered in a planned economy industrial city, it's easy to imagine how many factories the city had.

As soon as Hu Wenhai and Si Xingu emerged from the train station, they saw someone holding a sign at the exit. A thin middle-aged man with a mustache, disheveled hair, and a loose dark blue suit was leaning lazily against a utility pole.

"Xiao Jiang, we're here!" Si Xingu waved and shouted to the middle-aged man.

"Hello, Principal Si, Director Wang sent me to pick you up." Xiao Jiang reluctantly took the luggage from Si Xingu. The old man, who was almost in his twilight years, was carrying a canvas bag at least a meter long, drawing many curious glances.

Xiao Jiang led the two of them through the square in front of the train station and to a dilapidated minivan on the roadside. It looked like a vehicle that "makes noise everywhere except the horn." But even so, in an era dominated by bicycles, it stood out.

"Is this your child? Why didn't you mention him?" Xiao Jiang nimbly jumped into the car, turning the key a few times before the engine started. The minivan sputtered and struggled to move forward.

"Ha, if my grandson had even a fraction of Wenhai's talent, I'd laugh in my sleep!" Si Xingu waved and laughed. "This is the grandson of a friend of mine. I'm bringing him to the 601 Institute to discuss a collaboration."

"Bringing him out to see the world at such a young age? Has he gone to university yet?" Xiao Jiang's words were filled with pride and a sense of superiority, as if not going to university meant one couldn't even enter the 601 Institute.

"He's in his second year of high school. I don't think there will be any problem with him going to university. Right?" Si Xingu turned to Hu Wenhai and asked, "By the way, Wenhai, which university are you planning to apply to next year?"

"I haven't thought about it much, but I think it will be either the National University of Defense Technology or the University of Science and Technology of China."

"Really? Not Tsinghua or Peking University?" Si Xingu was taken aback and asked instinctively.

"Ha, it sounds like you think Tsinghua and Peking are your family's. Can you just apply and get in?" Xiao Jiang shook his head, disbelievingly. "Forget Tsinghua and Peking, even the National University of Defense Technology and the University of Science and Technology of China are impressive achievements to get into!"

"Ha, I can't speak for other people, but if it's Wenhai, I think he can get into any university in China he wants!"

"Principal Si... you really have high hopes for him." Xiao Jiang smiled ambiguously and turned his attention back to driving.

The journey was uneventful. The minivan drove through the streets of Shengjing for nearly an hour before finally arriving at a gate.

Hu Wenhai jumped out of the car and immediately saw a small, unassuming plaque by the gate, painted in black: "Shengjing Aircraft Design Institute."

This is Shen Ho Yi...

In the future, the internet forums were filled with heated debates about this place. Hu Wenhai often mentioned the name "Shen Ho Yi," but this didn't mean he had any bias against it.

Regardless, if mastering Sukhoi technology could protect the country's skies, why not follow the Soviet technical path? From the Su-27 to the J-11, China's transformation from a territorial air defense force to a strategic air force was largely due to the efforts of Shen Ho Yi.

In the end, the high expectations for it led to disappointment when it didn't perform as well in the fourth-generation fighter competition. But one must also consider the limitations of human resources. How many research institutes can develop a third-generation heavy fighter while fighting on two fronts?

In the end, this place is a holy land for China's fighter jet development, a place where a group of people have dedicated their youth and blood to the country.

Standing at the gate, Hu Wenhai couldn't help but become solemn.

After a complicated verification process at the gate, Hu Wenhai and Si Xingu finally entered the 601 Institute with Xiao Jiang.

The space inside the gate was unexpectedly large. They sat in Xiao Jiang's minivan for another ten minutes before finally reaching their destination.

It was a two-story, square building with some flowers and trees in front, but they were clearly not well-maintained, giving the place a somewhat messy feel in the mid-summer.

At the entrance, someone was already waiting. An elderly man in a white coat with graying hair hurried down the steps and immediately shook Si Xingu's hand.

"Brother Si, it's been a long time!"

"It's been more than two years, I've missed you so much!"

The two men, both with graying hair, hugged each other excitedly, exchanged greetings, and then introduced Hu Wenhai. Si Xingu pointed to the man in the white coat and said, "This is your Grandpa Wang, the director of a certain laboratory. I won't tell you his specific identity; you know the confidentiality rules from your father's military factory."

Then, Si Xingu turned to the Wang Director and said, "Old Wang, this is the inventor of the small turbojet engine I told you about, Hu Wenhai."

"What, he designed that engine!" The Wang Director and Xiao Jiang were both surprised and widened their eyes.