"The shape of an airplane's wing can indeed provide a certain amount of lift when the airplane is flying normally. However, the lift of modern wings mainly comes from the angle of elevation, that is, the acute angle formed by the airflow blowing towards the wing." He pondered for a moment, as if thinking about how to explain it to an absolute layman like me in a simple and understandable way. "I don't know if you have observed carefully that when an airplane flies inverted, the nose of the airplane is neither horizontal nor diving, but it will be tilted up a little. If you do an experiment, a piece of paper has a certain angle, and you blow hard at the bottom of it, it will rise."
He thought for a moment and continued, "To put it simply... this principle is like when we fly a kite. We need to tilt our head up so that there is naturally a lift from the air. But we must ensure that the head is tilted up to the sky at an appropriate angle. When this lift is greater than the downward force generated by the shape of the wing in the inverted flight state, we can fly inverted."
When he talked about his major, his eyes were always unusually bright and sparkling. I was slightly distracted, and then I thought about what he explained, and it seemed that I understood it, but it also seemed that I didn't fully understand it.
"Can all planes fly inverted?" I asked.
"In theory, yes."
"In theory? Then what problems would there be in practice?"
He smiled and said, "Because there is a problem. When a normal plane is turned upside down, the fuel tank will also turn upside down. The fuel may be cut off, causing the engine to suddenly shut down."
"What should we do then?"
"For general military or stunt aircraft, the simplest method is to install an inverted flight fuel tank, which is enough to support the aircraft to fly inverted for about 30 seconds."
As we were talking, the bell behind us suddenly rang, and people began to count down the last ten seconds of the New Year. I got up excitedly and said, "This is the best time to make a wish." Then I closed my eyes, put my hands together, and silently recited my wish. There were exactly three seconds left until midnight.
"3"
"2"
"1"
I immediately turned around and said loudly, "Happy New Year!"
At that moment, firecrackers were set off, the night sky was as bright as day, and the crowd was agitated. Influenced by this scene, I couldn't help but open my arms and wanted to hug him.
When the movement was halfway in the air, I suddenly realized that I had overstepped my bounds. My hands stiffened and I didn't know whether to stop or continue. I felt extremely embarrassed.
Mu Chenghe leaned forward slightly, then lowered his head and hugged me with his hands.
Very light, very light.
He seemed to just touch my back lightly with his fingers.
But even so, through the thick clothes, this action still made my heart skip a beat.
My face touched his shoulder and I could smell his scent.
Just one or two seconds, but it felt like a century, and I even felt a little greedy.
He said, "Xue Tong, Happy New Year!" Then he let me go without a trace, his eyes were open and his face was upright.
My heart, which had been originally satisfied, began to feel a little melancholy again.
Ten minutes after midnight, people began to disperse, some going home, others going to the next round of entertainment.
So the traffic suddenly became congested.
Although his car was not far away, he had just drunk and could not drive me home. At this time, the buses and subways had already stopped running.
After the alcohol wore off, I felt really cold walking in the early hours of a winter night. The night wind was strong, and my hair was upside down, so it was blown all over the place, and my cheeks hurt.
Mu Chenghe left me at a small cigarette stand that was still open. The owner was a middle-aged woman who lit an incandescent lamp and held a large umbrella against the wall, which was just enough for me to avoid the wind and cold.
Then he walked to the intersection, facing the wind, and helped me hail a taxi.
Helpless, there were more cars than people, and he was very good-tempered. He finally managed to stop a car with someone else, but he saw that the other person was a lady, so he gave her the car without saying a word.
After more than ten or twenty minutes, the man returned empty-handed, with a depressed expression on his face that had never been seen before.
"This must be the hardest thing in the world," he said, frowning.
I saw that Mu Chenghe's nose was red and he must have been freezing cold, so I said, "I'll go stop a car."
But he said, "Forget it. I'll go get the car and take you back."
"No, you've been drinking." I shouldn't have asked him to drink.
"At this time, the police must be on vacation."
"Who said the police are on vacation? Isn't my mom at work?"
I shook my head and just disagreed.
My dad is the driver, and our whole family is particularly sensitive about this.
"Are you going back alone?" he asked.
"Um."
"Then..." He thought for a moment, "Come to my place. I'm alone too."
Only then did I remember that the place he took Bai Lin and me back to was nearby.
"Where is Teacher Chen?" I remember he said it was Chen Ting's residence.
"He has been living with his girlfriend for a long time and gave the house to me."
Living together
I staggered.
It turns out... teachers also live with others.
When I was young, I always thought that school teachers were like gods. My mother often said to people: "My daughter doesn't listen to anyone, but she takes what her teacher says as an imperial decree."
A few months into the first grade, I found out that teachers also had to eat, pick up children from school, and go to the toilet... It was so disillusioning!
Now, Mu Chenghe actually told me that a teacher would also live together, and that teacher was our college’s teacher Chen Ting, who was adored by me and shone under the glory of the Party and League.
It took us about ten minutes to walk to our destination.
This is my second time here and the feeling is different from the last time.
From the balcony of the living room, we can see the Binjiang Square where we welcomed the New Year. Under the night sky, there are occasionally one or two fireworks.
We were both frozen.
He went to make the bed, and I took a hot shower. There were few things on the washstand in the bathroom, just a mouthwash cup, a toothbrush, an electric razor, and a small medicine bottle, but no women's products.
I immediately felt in a good mood. I changed into the pajamas he found for me in the bathroom, rolled up my trouser legs and sleeves, and then reluctantly put them on and walked out.
Mu Chenghe was tidying up the sofa, and I went to the bookshelf behind the sofa to browse.
There were many books on Mu Cheng and his major. Whether it was the Russian version, the English version, or the Chinese version, they were all heavenly books written in bird language. On the bottom shelf, there were some miniature models of various airplanes, with extremely high simulation, and even ships.
I pointed at the thing and asked a very stupid question: "What kind of ship has a deck that big?"
A hint of smile flashed in his eyes: "It's an aircraft carrier."
Well, count my ignorance.
After a while, he handed me a cup of warm water. My fingers felt a little hot when I touched it, but I thought it was because he had just brought me the water, so I didn't take it seriously.
Before going to bed, I went back to the living room to get my handbag. I saw him sitting there alone. His face and lips looked a little strange, so I asked, "What's wrong?"
He seemed to be stunned for a moment, and after two or three seconds, he turned his eyes from elsewhere to me, frowning tightly. After a while, he said lightly: "Maybe I have a fever."
"Fever?" When I heard these two words, I immediately walked over and touched his forehead. It was so hot that it was burning my hand.
"Why do you have a fever?" I was immediately anxious. "Is it because of the river breeze just now?"
"It's okay, you'll be fine after a good night's sleep." He comforted me.
"It won't be good to sleep with a fever."
Mu Chenghe didn't continue arguing with me. He waved his hand and said, "Stop shaking. It makes me dizzy." Then he frowned, leaned his head on the back of the sofa, and closed his eyes.
He must be feeling very uncomfortable and wants some quiet time.
So I didn't dare say a word and started looking around at the furnishings, trying to find the place to put the medicine box.
After a long time of unsuccessful searching, I suddenly remembered the medicine bottle on the washstand, so I ran to the bathroom and found a lot of medicine in the mirror cabinet. I was the one who took care of my mother when she was sick, and I knew roughly what to eat when she had a fever.
I poured a cup of warm water, selected a few cold medicines, placed them on the coffee table, and prepared to read the instructions carefully again.
He opened his eyes and said to me, "Don't look at me anymore. I don't want to take medicine."
I was stunned, my hands stopped in the air, and I turned to look at him.
"Why?"
"I'm taking other medicines, and they can't be combined with cold medicines."
"What should I do then?" It can't be like this.
"I just want to lie down for a while, and then you go to the bedroom to sleep."
Even with a high fever, he was still much more organized than I was.
I looked at him hesitantly.
"You still want me to gather all my energy to enlighten you?" he said again with his eyes closed.
I didn't dare to refute him anymore. I had to trust his confidence in his condition, followed his wishes and went back to the bedroom. I didn't discuss with him the issue of who should sleep in the bedroom, the patient or the healthy person.
I walked a few steps and turned back worriedly: "Call me if you need anything."
He seemed not to hear me and just stared at me blankly.
Then I repeated it again, he looked at my lips and nodded slowly.
I didn't close the bedroom door, for fear that I wouldn't be able to hear any noise. But I couldn't fall asleep in bed, staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. In the living room, there was a rustling sound of fabrics rubbing against each other, probably because he had spread out the quilt and lay down.
Then, the whole world became extremely quiet.
After a long time, he was not heard to move.
Are you asleep
I turned over and waited for a long time, but still didn't hear any sound from him, so I was sure that he was asleep, so I tiptoed to the living room to see him.
I was afraid that he would notice, so I didn't even dare to wear slippers. I walked barefoot to the sofa tiptoe, wanting to feel the temperature of his forehead, but I didn't dare touch him for fear of disturbing his sleep. So I squatted down and tried to see his condition by observing his appearance.
He closed his eyes, frowned slightly, and slept lightly. Judging from his short breaths, he should still have a fever. I accidentally saw the empty cup on the coffee table that he had drunk, so I got up, picked it up and went to the kitchen to get some water.
If you don't take medicine for a fever, you can only drink more water.
When I came back, I found that his hand was sticking out from under the quilt because of the fever and sweating. After I put the cup away, I carefully put his hand back.
At this moment, his brows furrowed deeply, a low mutter came out of his mouth, and then he held my fingers.
My heart skipped a beat. I looked at my hand, then raised my eyes to look at his face, and only felt relieved when I found that he was still alive.
But then I was stumped.
He pulled it a little tight, should he pry it apart? Or should he just leave it as it is
I squatted in front of the sofa, hesitant. My fingertips were just touching the palm of his left hand, and the temperature really burned me.
Mu Chenghe's left hand.
The left hand that secretly wrote on the blackboard, the left hand that used chopsticks to pick up food for me, the left hand that bent its fingers and tapped lightly on the table to remind me not to be absent-minded, the left hand that took off the scarf and put it around my neck, and, the left hand that just gave me a light hug.
After a while, his hand gradually loosened my grip. But I couldn't bear to leave, so I sat down, leaning my head on the sofa, facing his eyes.
I don't know how long it took, but his breathing gradually became long and peaceful. My eyelids slowly sank, and finally I couldn't bear it anymore and fell asleep.