**Chapter 851: Aiding the Soviet Union (8)**

Having mastered the principles of the computer, possessing its key components, and being capable of replicating it in the short term, most of the Soviet Air Force generals present felt much better.

At that moment, General Novikov, Commander of the Soviet Air Force, spoke up: "Comrade Lebedev, you must have sensed something. Can you speak boldly of your concerns?"

The generals felt as if a Siberian cold front had swept through; in an instant, grimness replaced the relaxed or even smiling expressions on their faces. Everyone stared coldly at Lebedev, causing the pressure in his heart to spike. However, he was not afraid; on the contrary, he felt a surge of respect for General Novikov. That the commander could grasp the core issue so quickly proved his mind was entirely focused on solving problems.

Lebedev replied, "The computer China aided us with this time performs 30,000 operations per second. I believe China must have larger ones at home. According to my observations, the Chinese scientists are extremely skilled in many specific operations. I believe they have fixed solutions for various calculation formulas. I have tried to ask about this, but they did not give me a clear answer."

Most of the generals could not immediately comprehend Lebedev's answer. Seeing their expressions, Novikov explained calmly, "I believe Comrade Lebedev is referring to regulations and operating procedures—the instruction sets."

At this explanation, the generals had an epiphany. Their unified grimness shifted into a mixture of worry and displeasure. Providing equipment without training is a common way to "throttle" (Ka Bo Zi) an opponent. Mastering any complex, advanced equipment takes a long time; doing so through self-exploration takes even longer. Those who believed China would not readily provide these specific methods felt worried; those who already feared China's power were incensed.

Lebedev felt even more admiration for Novikov. The analogy of "regulations and procedures" was exactly what he had been trying to explain, and Novikov had used language that both soldiers and scientists could understand, showing he viewed this technology transfer from a very high level.

General Novikov didn't care about Lebedev's opinion. He noticed the generals' displeasure and knew that with the Soviet army in retreat, the emotional stability of the command layer was precarious. They would look for any excuse to deflect blame or vent frustration.

While Novikov himself had pointed out the next key problem, he fully endorsed the Chinese aid received so far and expected cooperation to comprehensively enhance the Air Force's combat power. Seeing the generals looking as if they had been betrayed by China, Novikov didn't suppress their emotions but tried to resolve the immediate issue quickly. He asked, "Comrade Lebedev, how soon do you think we will have a definitive answer?"

Seeing the hostile looks of the generals, Lebedev felt he might have spoken out of turn. According to the agreed schedule, the full course on instruction sets would only begin in three days. He had only been lamenting Novikov's technical sensitivity and had followed his lead.

Now Novikov had given him a way out, and Lebedev took it. "Commander, the Chinese scientists said training on that portion will begin in three days."

The majority of the Soviet generals were clear-headed men. Hearing this, some immediately wanted to curse. They had assumed China might withhold the operating procedures or use them to throttle the USSR and demand more money. Yet China wasn't refusing the training; it was simply starting in three days. Wasn't that just looking for trouble?!

General Novikov had participated in the internal factional struggles of the Red Army and knew how terrifying they could be. At this moment, the USSR had to unite against the German invasion. He slammed his hand on the table with a *thwack* that made the generals who were about to curse flinch.

In the ensuing silence, Novikov asked Lebedev, "Comrade Lebedev, as a scientist, what is it that you care about?"

Lebedev had also participated in the struggles within Soviet academic circles; in this era, every field in the USSR was embroiled in intense internal strife. He had only maintained his position by defeating challengers. He knew he had invited trouble, but fortunately, General Novikov wanted no part in internal bickering and had steered the discussion back to pure academia.

Now Lebedev dared not play games and answered from a purely academic standpoint: "I believe that at this stage, we must import Chinese computers on a large scale. At the same time, it is unlikely we can import China's most advanced machines."

This answer touched upon the contradiction but fell within acceptable bounds. The generals feared China wouldn't provide the procedures for the aided computers; they didn't simply assume China would hand over its top-tier technology. If the roles were reversed, the USSR wouldn't give its best secrets to China either.

General Novikov caught the main point and dismissed Lebedev. Next to be called in were the Soviet officers sent to the course. Their answers were similar to the scientist's. Seeing how pervasive internal struggle had become, Novikov felt a sense of sorrow.

Fortunately, with Lebedev's "pioneer" testimony, the generals' emotions were stable. Although the students habitually held a mindset of internal conflict, their answers allowed the high command to understand the current progress.

After the questioning, the top brass of the Air Force breathed a collective sigh of relief. The greatest fear—that the technology would be unusable after import—had not materialized. While the students showed a tendency toward bickering, the basis of their conflict was that they had learned so much they felt entitled to more authority. From the perspective of utilizing new technology, this proved the training was a success.

After some discussion, Novikov spoke again: "Send personnel to consult the Chinese: how many computers does China use to command 1,000 fighters? And specifically, in which areas are these computers employed?"

As Vice Chairman of the Military Commission, Li Runshi was the first to see the Soviet request, which was phrased politely and sincerely. After reading it, he felt the Soviet talent was of a high standard; they had caught the core issue very quickly.

But the Soviets posing a sharp question meant it was China's turn for a headache. Li Runshi was reluctant to join the discussion. According to his observations, before the war—especially when the Chinese economy faced difficulties—many comrades still spoke of socialism, at least on the surface.

Now, nearly a year into the war, the Chinese economy had reached unprecedented heights. Comrades who once suppressed their emotions no longer hid them amidst such a roaring economy. They were people who thought in terms of departmental interests and nationalist sentiment; with China in a clearly dominant position, their speech and decisions had acquired a distinctly "imperialist" flair.

Li Runshi didn't want to get involved in internal struggles now, partly because He Rui had asked him not to become a focal point of conflict. On the other hand, He Rui had already taken action.

Before China gained its advantage, He Rui's style was undoubtedly that of an authoritative leader who mastered and wielded imperialist tactics to perfection. Now that the Chinese leadership was finally full of confidence and ready to play the imperialist game, He Rui had become the breakwater preventing that shift.

In this era of drastic change, what Li Runshi needed most was to identify comrades who could continue the journey. Now was actually a good time, as people no longer suppressed their emotions and showed their true selves. This made the selection process much easier. Those with a bottom line could still maintain their composure even in these headlong times.

When the Military Commission discussed the matter, most members didn't offer their own views but chose to support He Rui's decision. Li Runshi found this interesting; not long ago, many had expressed concern about the future development of the USSR. Now, the likely reason for their silence was He Rui's earlier commitment to aid the Soviets.

He Rui, however, didn't think that much of it; he admired the Soviets' sense of boundaries. To the Russian nation, the greatest problem was being "too young" with a poor sense of boundaries—it was either being thick as thieves or outright hostility. This was perhaps because the Russian environment was too harsh, and disasters were always devastating.

"A thousand miles of ice and ten thousand miles of snow" was a rhetorical flourish in China, an artistic conception. In Russia, it was the reality every year. In such a natural environment, Russian culture naturally developed into a form best suited for physical survival. Russia couldn't maintain an ambiguous tug-of-war for long—like a traveler seeing a cabin in a blizzard; if the host and the traveler haggle at the door, the traveler will likely freeze to death during the negotiation.

"Organize a model for an operational scale of 1,000 fighters and give it to them," He Rui answered.

It was clear the comrades were somewhat resistant, yet no one voiced an objection. The Soviet request was reasonable; a large-scale campaign indeed required the coordination of 1,000 fighters.

However, the number of powers on this planet capable of effectively coordinating 1,000 fighters could be counted on one hand. Someone looked toward Hu Xiushan, head of the General Logistics Department, hoping he would speak.

Hu was usually a man of few words and had no intention of speaking now. But He Rui felt the comrades were indeed nervous and needed reassurance. He said to Hu, "Comrade Xiushan, say a few words to everyone."

Only then did Hu explain: "We've conducted actual tests; a system to command 1,000 fighters is essentially the limit for future jet combat. To improve operational efficiency, the information transmission of the command system requires input from different datalinks. Even if the Soviets get the current system, they won't reach our current level of understanding. This aid cannot pose a threat to us."

If Hu had analyzed it from the perspective of our ability to handle the Soviets, the comrades would still have had reservations. One of the greatest factors in winning a war is scale; when the Military Commission assessed the Soviet-German war, they leaned toward a Soviet victory. The reason was simple: though Germany currently controlled more area and population, its mobilization capacity could not match the Soviet Union's.

According to data analysis, even after losing over three million elite troops, the USSR had still raised a new force of 12 million through mobilization. What they lacked now was time and the technical capacity to expand military production. As long as they survived this German wave, the most dangerous period would be over.

Hu Xiushan clearly pointed out that the scale of future major air battles would be around a thousand, not like the current model of several thousand or even ten thousand propeller planes in sustained combat. China's numerical advantage over the USSR was absolute, and future wars would be a contest of technology, which naturally set the comrades' minds at ease.

That issue settled, they moved on to the details of the aid. To date, China had provided 30,000 experts, engineers, and technicians. Feedback showed the Soviet economic model was very suited for war. Although the Chinese industrial model conflicted with the Soviet one, the Chinese side had begun to adjust, no longer forcing the Soviet production model into a Chinese mold but providing technical aid based on actual Soviet needs.

On this topic, Li Runshi spoke more frequently. While studying the Chinese model, he had used the aid to the USSR as an opportunity for a detailed study of the Soviet model. With investigation comes the right to speak, and Li's words were highly valued by the Military Commission.

Before the Soviet-German war, the USSR had a population of over 200 million and its land was flourishing. Per capita grain was 492.5 kg, meat 23.2 kg, and milk 173.1 kg. For a people who had recently emerged from hunger, it was indeed a miracle.

Now, 45% of the population—85.6 million people—lived in occupied areas, including over 56 million agricultural workers. More lethally, the USSR had lost 38% of its grain-producing land. The loss of massive numbers of harvesters and tractors worsened the manpower shortage caused by the war.

However, with Chinese support, and if it weren't for Soviet wariness, the USSR could currently obtain enough grain to satisfy its people's needs.

Besides the food crisis, the Eastern Front—that unprecedented human black hole—had created a manpower crisis for the already battered nation. After the initial heavy losses, the Red Army had rebuilt a force of ten million men. As a price, the economic sectors serving the various industrial chains were left with only 18.4 million employees (down from over 34 million in 1940), over 50% of whom were women. Large numbers of the elderly, disabled, youth, and children were also forced into production.

To meet wartime quotas, factory heads had the authority to demand 1–3 hours of unconditional daily overtime, and compensation was frozen in so-called "special deposits." Under the German onslaught of 1942, the world's largest country faced a grim outlook in terms of food and manpower.

To adapt to this unprecedented war, the highly centralized Soviet planned economy had conducted a mobilization unparalleled in history. Only 56% of the Soviet GNP went to civilian consumption, while military spending reached 44%. Civilian industry was suppressed to the maximum extent. Current imports and stocks of civilian goods could last at most eight months.

According to Chinese data, after eight months, the total circulation of commodities in the USSR would drop by over 60%, while currency circulation would grow to 280% of pre-war levels. Massive inflation would cause great hardship. This was a sharp contrast to China, where a 30% tax rate kept the economy vibrant and provided a clear advantage on the battlefield.

The Military Commission members were astonished by Li Runshi's briefing. Someone asked, "Since that's the case, why do we support the Soviet economic model instead of improving their capacity by changing their production organization?"

Li felt the comrades were being a bit simplistic and explained: the Soviet model was a command model—the state invested in industrial construction with the goal of each enterprise producing a specified quantity and quality of goods.

The Chinese model was neither a pure command model nor a competitive model like the West's. It was a model where the state drove development through industrial policy. Because different Chinese industries were at different stages, development appeared to be a mixed system.

"Comrades, that is a matter of appearance. In fact, our core remains consistent: aiming for an independent, world-leading level. Our aviation industry has always been at the forefront, so it shows a strong state-led model using capital operation to perfect the chain.

Our machinery industry, however, lacked accumulation and was unable to meet all industrial needs. But we achieved breakthroughs in economic measurement, precision control, and materials, becoming number one. So we adopted a 'two-legged' approach of combining import and assimilation.

Our greatest problem used to be that the Yuan was not a global currency, forcing us to cooperate with the French Franc. This created an appearance that China needed Europe for its full value.

Now, our currency has finally become a global one. Consequently, our economic model has undergone a massive shift."

Li paused to observe their reactions. Seeing they understood, he continued: "The Soviet economic model is vastly different from our industrial model. The USSR does its best to suppress redundancy and rapid change. Forcing our model on them would only cause chaos. The fewer the surprises in war, the higher the chance of victory. The Soviet model is highly favorable for them to win *in their own way*."

He Rui always discussed war through economics. The Military Commission felt Li Runshi was becoming more and more like him. Regarding the current situation, they felt Li needed to be clear. Several hands went up for questions. Li was prepared; he had to demonstrate that his vision and ability were in no way inferior to He Rui's.