When I am reborn, I just want to be a top student

Tangdu, top-floor office of Galaxy Technology headquarters.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the construction site of Tanghuang City was ablaze with the glow of welding sparks in the night, like countless shooting stars falling from the sky.

Further away, the factory buildings in the Xuanwu Battery Industrial Park are brightly lit, and a fleet of unmanned test vehicles is conducting final stress tests on closed roads.

The city was still awake in the September night breeze, its pulse beating in rhythm with Galaxy Technology.

Wang Donglai stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a cup of tea that had gone cold.

The lunar base modification plan still needs fine-tuning, the material formula for the thorium-based molten salt reactor needs his signature for confirmation, the quarterly report from the National Frontier Technology Research Institute awaits his review, and the textbook outline for Galaxy Vocational School is still missing its final chapter for him to finalize.

There were three stacks of documents piled on his desk, each stack about half a foot high.

But what he was holding in his hand was a newly printed progress report on the unmanned aerial vehicle project, still warm from the heat.

There was a knock on the office door.

"Enter."

Xu Zhibin pushed open the door and came in, wearing a dark blue Galaxy Technology uniform with a star track logo embroidered on the left chest. He was holding a tablet computer in his hand, with various technical parameters and approval processes densely labeled on the screen.

His hair was a bit messy, and there were obvious dark circles under his eyes. He had been working overtime for more than a month straight for the unmanned aerial vehicle project.

But he was full of energy, walked with a brisk pace, and was like a tightly wound spring.

"Boss, the latest progress on the Xuan Nu project."

He placed the tablet on Wang Donglai's table, but didn't sit down; he just stood there, as if waiting for some important instructions.

Wang Donglai turned around from in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, walked back to his desk, and gestured for Xu Zhibin to sit down.

Then he opened the tablet and looked at it page by page.

The office was quiet for about five minutes, with only the slight sound of fingers swiping across the screen.

Xu Zhibin sat opposite him, his hands on his knees, his back ramrod straight.

He has known Wang Donglai for several years, from his university dormitory to this trillion-dollar empire. He has seen Wang Donglai working through the night in the laboratory, calmly responding to being questioned by scholars from all over the world at press conferences, and waving the national flag on the moon.

But every time he sat in this office, he still felt a vague sense of tension. It wasn't that he was afraid Wang Donglai would blame him, but rather that he knew what Wang Donglai's standards were, and how far he himself was from those standards. He wanted to catch up, but he was also afraid that he hadn't done well enough.

Wang Donglai put down his tablet, looked up, and his gaze fell on Xu Zhibin's face.

Instead of giving a direct conclusion as usual, he asked a question: "Zhibin, what do you think is the biggest bottleneck of this project right now?"

Xu Zhibin answered without hesitation: "The rotor is safe."

He spoke very quickly, clearly having gone through these questions countless times in his mind.

"The Xuan Nu uses a six-rotor design, so theoretically, the failure of any single rotor will not cause a crash. However, the fatigue life of the rotors at high speeds is lower than we expected. The materials lab has provided a new alloy formula that can increase the lifespan by 40%, but the cost will increase. We are conducting tests to see if we can find a balance between cost and safety."

Wang Donglai nodded, without saying anything like "this problem is very serious" or "this solution is feasible".

He simply picked up a pen, circled a few parameters on the tablet, and then wrote a short annotation.

Xu Zhibin peeked at it; it was a brand-new algorithm for rotor stress distribution. He only understood a little bit of it, and the rest needed to be digested by the engineering team.

"And the second question?" Wang Donglai continued.

"Flight altitude and flight path."

Xu Zhibin pulled a document out of his briefcase; it was a preliminary opinion letter from the Tangdu City Air Traffic Control Department.

"The management authority for low-altitude airspace has not been fully delegated yet. Our flight altitude is designed to be between 100 and 300 meters, which is outside the civil aviation flight path. How to draw flight paths, how to avoid other aircraft, and how to handle emergency landings are all issues that need to be worked out with the air traffic control department step by step. They have provided a preliminary framework, but it will take time to implement it."

“They provided the framework, which means they are already inclined to agree. They are just waiting for us to come up with a security plan that they can sign off on with peace of mind.” Wang Donglai put down his pen, leaned back in his chair, and said calmly.

Xu Zhibin nodded, then turned to the next page and explained, "Approval is also a major issue. For an aircraft to be commercialized, it involves airworthiness certification, airspace use approval, operating qualifications, and insurance systems. This process is unprecedented in China; no one has ever approved a commercial license for a manned aircraft. We can only communicate with each department one by one, feeling our way forward."

Wang Donglai looked at Xu Zhibin, a slight smile playing on his lips.

Clearly, he was very satisfied with Xu Zhibin's performance.

"Zhibin, the issues you just mentioned—rotor safety, flight altitude, flight path, and approvals—are not the real problems."

Xu Zhibin was stunned for a moment.

"Regarding rotor safety, we have a materials laboratory, a soil-based coating, and an AI flight control system. The technical challenges are just a matter of time. As for flight altitude and route, since the Tangdu City Air Traffic Management Department has provided a preliminary framework, it means the wind direction is supportive; it's just a matter of procedure. Approval is not an issue either. If there's no precedent, we'll create one. In this regard, the attitude in China is actually quite open."

Wang Donglai's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear.

“Do you remember when we received the space launch license for a private company? At that time, there was no precedent for private spaceflight, and no department knew how to approve it. But what did the higher-ups do? They didn’t say ‘let us study it’, they said ‘let GalaxySpace test it first, and we’ll deal with it if there are any problems.’”

Xu Zhibin nodded; of course he remembered.

GalaxySpace's first launch license was obtained in just a few months, from application to approval.

This is certainly because the government issued a document encouraging private enterprises to enter the aerospace field.

But it's still quite remarkable to achieve this speed.

"In China, it takes three stages for a new technology to go from the laboratory to the market," Wang Donglai said, holding up three fingers.

"The first stage is the tacit approval period. The higher-ups see the potential of this technology and believe it can drive industrial development and economic upgrading, but they don't know how big the risks are, so they won't publicly express their support, but they won't oppose it either. If you do well, they'll take a second look; if you have problems, they'll tighten the reins. Why is administrative approval difficult? It's not because they want to block you, it's because they don't have standards. Without standards, whoever signs is responsible. So what you need to do is not wait for them to give you standards, but help them establish standards. Make sure the safety data, operating procedures, and emergency plans are solid, and then hand them over to them so they can see that signing this document is not risky, but a matter of course."

"The second stage is the acceleration period. Your technology has been validated by the market, and the data has been generated, proving that this path is viable. At this point, the attitude of the authorities will change from tacit approval to encouragement, and preferential policies, tax breaks, and demonstration projects will follow one after another. Why? Because you have already paved the way for them."

"The third stage is the standardization period. Once the technology is commercially available on a large scale, the authorities will tighten regulations and solidify the previous temporary standards into formal laws and regulations. At that time, anyone who does not follow these standards will be eliminated."

He lowered his hand, looked at Xu Zhibin, and said in a relaxed tone, "So the problems you just mentioned are actually technical issues, not fundamental ones. Whether it's rotor safety or route approval, these are problems that can be solved through resource investment. The real question is, when will you enter the market?"

Xu Zhibin looked at Wang Donglai thoughtfully.

After all, he had been in a management position at Galaxy Technology, a super-enterprise, for so long, and had honed his ability to handle matters large and small.

But every time he hears Wang Donglai break down the policy environment in such a detailed way, he still feels enlightened.

After thinking for a moment, he asked, "So now is it time for us to go in?"

“We have the technology, and it has been thoroughly tested. We also have the data, and the higher-ups have shown interest in and tacitly approved of the technology. If we don’t launch the product to market at this stage, and wait until the standards are tightened and the regulations are in place, the costs will be much higher.”

Wang Donglai tapped his finger on the table and said in a deep voice, "It's not that we can't wait until then to enter, it's that we've waited too long and missed the opportunity. If we try to enter now, it will be head-on competition instead of taking advantage of the situation."

Xu Zhibin remained silent; he understood this principle, of course.

If you wait until the regulators have set all the rules before entering the market, it's no different from being shackled.

While the regulatory framework is still being explored, let's pave the way and set the standards first, so that later players can only play by Galaxy Technology's rules.

In recent years, he has changed a lot, and so has Wang Donglai.

Back then, he would have said directly, "I want to change this industry," instead of doing what he does now, helping the higher-ups establish standards while solidifying his own technological advantages into a moat for the industry.

This transformation was gradual and subtle. From overcoming technical challenges to dealing with leaders of various departments, to facing questions from scholars around the world at press conferences, every step was shaping him from a pure scientist into a true strategist.

"What about the business logic?" Wang Donglai suddenly asked.

Xu Zhibin snapped out of his daze, his expression returning to seriousness.

He opened his tablet, pulled up a business analysis report, and reported: "From a business perspective, the most suitable scenario for Xuan Nu in its early stages is high-end business travel and tourism in cities. Tangdu itself receives more than 300 million tourists every year. Even if only one ten-thousandth of them are converted into customers, it is still a considerable source of revenue. Moreover, the Xuan Nu experience cannot be replicated by ground transportation. The aerial view of the Tang Imperial City, the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, and the Qinling Mountains is enough to attract high-end customers."

He paused before continuing, "Regarding pricing, our preliminary calculations indicate that the cost of a single flight for the Xuan Nu is approximately 300 to 400 yuan per person per 100 kilometers, far lower than the price of helicopters, which often costs several thousand yuan. If the cost can be further reduced after mass production, the price can be controlled within 300 yuan per person per 100 kilometers. This price is completely acceptable for business travel."

"How do you plan to balance the high-end positioning with cost pressures?" Wang Donglai asked.

"Initially, we will focus on the high-end experience, and the pricing can be appropriately higher. After production capacity increases and costs decrease, we will gradually expand into the lower-end market, similar to the current evolution of new energy vehicles from high-end to mass market. We don't need to have everyone owning an aircraft from the beginning; we just need to set the benchmark first."

Xu Zhibin answered quickly, clearly having a thorough understanding of the data.

As he spoke, he brought up more data charts on the tablet.

"In terms of safety redundancy, the flight control system adopts a triple redundancy design, so the failure of any one computer will not affect flight safety. The flight control algorithm has run millions of simulations on Wa's quantum computing platform, covering all scenarios from normal flight to extreme weather, from single rotor failure to multiple rotor failure at the same time."

"Finally, we will also implement thorough maintenance and risk control measures, employing multiple approaches to ensure safety!"

Wang Donglai nodded without asking for details, knowing that Xu Zhibin wasn't the kind of person who would try to fool him with vague data.

He simply picked up a pen, wrote a few words on the report, and then pushed the tablet back to Xu Zhibin.

Xu Zhibin took the tablet and hesitated for a moment.

He had a question he'd wanted to ask from the beginning, but hadn't found the right time.

Now that the opportunity had come, he decided to stop beating around the bush and asked directly, "Boss, I have a question, not about the Mystic Maiden, but about self-driving cars."

Wang Donglai raised his eyebrows slightly and said calmly, "Ask away."

"Once the Xuan Nu (a type of autonomous driving system) is commercialized, will it impact ground transportation? I'm not talking about the technological impact, but the impact on employment. If self-driving cars are truly widely adopted, what will happen to the jobs of the tens of millions of Didi drivers and taxi drivers across the country? What will happen to their families?"

Xu Zhibin's voice was steady, but the way his fingers gripped the edge of the tablet revealed that he wasn't just asking casually.

The office was quiet for a moment.

Outside the window, in the night of Tangdu City, an unmanned test vehicle silently drove through an intersection, the lidar on the roof slowly rotating, like an owl patrolling its territory.

"Zhibin, do you know how many employees Galaxy Technology has right now?" Wang Donglai suddenly asked.

This question startled Xu Zhibin. After thinking for a moment, he guessed, "It's probably close to a million, right?"

"To be precise, as of last month, there were a little over 880,000 full-time employees. If we include the upstream and downstream of the industrial chain, the number of jobs directly and indirectly created exceeds four million."

Wang Donglai's voice was calm, as if he were stating a perfectly ordinary fact.

“This year we plan to recruit over 100,000 more employees. Each of our Galaxy Supermarket stores needs thousands of staff; the new industrial park for Xuanwu Battery requires tens of thousands of skilled workers; Pinhaofan and Xinghuo Express are still expanding, and each new city needs a new station; even Galaxy Vocational Education School only recruited 1,200 students this year. It's not that we don't want to recruit more, but we are still expanding our teaching staff and equipment. These jobs support four million families. Their children have access to education, their parents have food to eat, and their mortgages are being paid.”

He paused, then turned his gaze from the window to Xu Zhibin's face.

Xu Zhibin also looked on with a serious expression, deep in thought. (End of Chapter)