Chapter 27: Morning Star Rises
One Month Later – Testing Day
The morning mist hadn't yet lifted when the Kaiyuan test team wheeled the prototype engine out of the garage.
It didn't look like much — just an exposed 125cc single-cylinder block mounted on a steel frame, its components half-hand-built, half-machined in borrowed workshops. But to Chen Rui, it looked like possibility.
He stood beside Li Wei and Xu Lian, still in his school uniform blazer, trying to keep his expression neutral.
"Start the ignition sequence," he said.
A young technician, barely older than Rui himself, flipped the switch.
The engine coughed once.
Then hummed.
And then… kept humming.
Quiet Power
Everyone leaned in. Something was off.
"It's… quiet," Xu Lian said, frowning.
"Too quiet?" someone asked.
"No," Rui said, smiling. "Exactly quiet enough."
The modified cooling vents and piston shape were working. The heat buildup was minimal. The exhaust had a deeper tone — not high-pitched like their older models — and most importantly, no misfires.
"RPM test," Rui called out.
The tachometer needle climbed. Smooth. Steady.
"Throttle lag?" Li Wei asked.
"Minimal," said the test tech. "Actually… better than the Haotian stock 125."
There was a long silence.
Then applause — soft at first, then rising from the group of workers watching from behind the yellow safety line.
Numbers on the Board
The final test results printed out:
Fuel efficiency: +7% over baseline
Noise output: -18%
Thermal retention: Reduced by 11%
Durability projection: Estimated at 10,000 km minimum lifecycle
Xu Lian leaned over the sheet, stunned. "We just beat their 125 model, didn't we?"
Li Wei grinned. "On paper? Yeah. On the road? We'll find out soon."
Chen Rui didn't cheer. He just nodded, quietly pleased.
"One success doesn't win a war," he thought, "but it tells the army to keep marching."
Lunch Break in the Canteen
Word of the engine's success spread fast. That day, the factory canteen buzzed with an energy it hadn't seen in years.
Even the dumplings tasted better.
"I heard we're calling it Morning Star," one welder said.
"Rui's idea," someone else replied. "Said it's the light before the sun rises."
"Does that mean we're still in the dark?"
"Yeah. But not for long."
After School
That evening, Rui attended his evening study session. He hadn't done well on his last math quiz, and his homeroom teacher made him stay after for extra practice.
"Running a business isn't an excuse to fail trigonometry," she scolded, tapping her red pen on his notebook.
Rui smiled sheepishly. "I'll do better."
He stayed an extra hour.
His classmates didn't know he'd just led a team of 50 people to design a better engine than most factories twice their size.
But that was fine.
Let the results speak.
At Home
That night, Chen Jianhua placed a small ceramic cup of tea beside his son and nodded without a word. Rui nodded back.
Neither said anything.
They didn't have to.
The engine worked. The plan was working. The sun hadn't risen — but the Morning Star had.
And that was enough.