Landlord in the Arctic-Chapter 40: Graduation

Early in the morning, Fairbanks was blessed with a rare clear day. The azure sky was like a pure sapphire, clear and deep.

Above Old Tom’s Flying School.

An old bush plane was soaring freely. Feng Mountain sat in the pilot’s seat, skillfully handling the control stick, his eyes showing focused confidence.

Next to him was Coach Tom, a shocked expression on his face, his eyes wide as saucers.

He had thought this would just be a routine instructional flight, but he never expected Feng Mountain to display such extraordinary flying talent and skill.

"Prepare for landing. Keep control of the stick."

"Right, right, a little slower. Get a clear view of the runway. Slower still."

"Good, maintain your current rate of descent."

"Get ready for touchdown. Retract flaps, hit the Brake."

"Fantastic."

...

The bush plane came to a steady stop on the runway. Sitting in the co-pilot’s seat, Tom looked at Feng Mountain, his joyful face filled with astonishment.

’This Chinese man is scarily smart.’

’He must have used some magical Witchcraft to make himself so intelligent.’

’Yesterday afternoon, it only took him half an hour with the instruments to master their use.’

’This morning, I only demonstrated takeoff and landing once, and he nailed it on his second try. His piloting skills in the air are improving by the minute, a visibly noticeable leap.’

’His composure during landing, especially, was nothing like that of a rookie who had just started learning to fly.’

"Feng, did you learn to fly back in your country too?"

Feng Mountain, still immersed in the joy of flying, replied, "No, this is my first time learning to fly. It feels absolutely amazing."

"Then you must have used Witchcraft, just like when you treated my acute gout." Tom proactively let go of the co-pilot’s controls. "Go ahead, keep flying. The plane’s yours to use for now. I’m going to browse Facebook, don’t bother me."

With that, Tom picked up his phone and started scrolling through pictures of beautiful women, adopting a completely hands-off attitude.

Feng Mountain silently retracted the flaps, increased the throttle to begin his taxi, gripped the stick to lift the tail, then adjusted the force and slowly pulled back on the stick to take off.

The beat-up plane, with the unique hum of its propeller, taxied for less than 100 meters before it cheerfully soared into the sky.

The state of Alaska is one of the few places in the world with deregulated airspace. It boasts 9,900 registered aircraft, 11,000 certified pilots, 387 land airports, 33 heliports, and 640 documented landing strips.

Additionally, there are thousands of lakes available for seaplanes to take off and land.

In Alaska, as long as you have an aviation radio, you can fly freely below an altitude of 3,000 meters. If you install a Mode C transponder, that ceiling rises to 5,400 meters. As for flying below 200-360 meters AGL, you can even fly freely without a radio.

However, this relaxed air traffic management environment also leads to the highest accident rate. Alaska’s aviation community makes up only 1% of the United States’ total, yet it accounts for 40% of all collision accidents.

As the plane continued to climb, it broke through 1,000 meters, 2,000 meters, and finally reached an altitude of 3,000 meters.

At this moment, Feng Mountain’s mood was as vast and free as the broad blue sky before him.

When the plane broke through the cloud layer, it was like entering a dreamlike wonderland in an instant.

White clouds clustered around them like cotton candy, so close it felt as if he could reach out and touch them. The water vapor in the clouds refracted the sunlight into a rainbow of colors, creating a surreal, dreamlike scene.

In this moment, Feng Mountain felt as if he had broken free from all restraints and become a part of the sky itself, soaring freely in this boundless blue world.

CLICK!!

The sound of a camera shutter went off.

Feng Mountain turned his head to look at the co-pilot’s seat. Tom was holding up his phone. "Buddy, it’s pretty moving, isn’t it? I was the same way my first time flying. Thank God for creating such a beautiful world."

"By the way, a photo is 5 US Dollar. A print with a frame is 20 US Dollars."

"Take as many as you want. I’ll take the annual package!"

Feng Mountain gripped the control stick, steering the plane freely across the azure sky, casting all his worries and pressures to the back of his mind.

...

「Throughout the rest of the morning.」

Feng Mountain flawlessly completed all the maneuvers required for a pilot’s license, including flight training in complex mountainous terrain. In Tom’s words, a pilot’s license would simply be a limitation on Feng Mountain’s natural flying talent.

He landed the plane on the runway.

Stepping off the plane, Tom sighed in mock distress. "Buddy, congratulations on graduating. You’re the fastest student to ever graduate from Old Tom’s Flying School. You finished all the flight courses in just 15 lessons. According to my fee schedule, I’ve taken a huge loss on this one. I won’t even cover the fuel costs. You’re just too damn smart."

In Alaska, the cost for a Private Pilot License (PPL), including instructor fees, generally ranges from 40 to 80 US Dollars per hour. Then you have to add in solo flight fees, ground school fees, and other miscellaneous charges for textbooks, exams, headsets, and so on.

The total cost typically fluctuates between 5,000 and 10,000 US Dollars.

For a student like Feng Mountain, who could master all the required maneuvers and fly independently in less than 15 lessons, it was a definite financial loss for the instructor.

The current price of aviation fuel is about 3.6 US Dollars per gallon. Between the fuel, lesson time, and instructor fees for Feng Mountain’s training, Tom definitely lost money. If he got a few more students like this, he’d have to shut down the flight school and file for bankruptcy.

"Buddy, I’m not going to let a friend take a loss!" Feng Mountain patted Tom’s shoulder sympathetically. He took a checkbook from his pocket and, with a few quick strokes, wrote a check for 6,000 US Dollars. "I have to go back to the Crown Territory in a couple of days, and I have a question. About the tests and flight hours required by the aviation authority..."

Seeing the amount on the check, Tom grinned from ear to ear and thumped his chest resoundingly.

"Feng, you shouldn’t have such worries."

"Did the wind knock you silly? You’ve clearly already taken the aviation exam and completed the full 50 hours of lessons. You’ll be getting your official pilot’s license in a few days."

"Have you forgotten?"

"Sorry. I guess I’m just too excited about getting the license soon." Feng Mountain paused for a moment, then a smile spread across his face.

’Who says foreigners don’t understand how the world works? Who says they don’t know how to pull strings? I’d spit in the face of whoever said that. He got the hint instantly. Looks like he’s done this plenty of times before.’

"Feng, want to go to a bar to celebrate? I know a club that’s open during the day." Tom gave him a smile that all men would understand.

Feng Mountain wasn’t interested in that. "No, thanks. I’m planning to gather some gear and supplies for the winter. You should know how harsh the winters are in the Crown Territory."

Tom nodded in understanding. "You’re right, you should start preparing. Once winter hits, it’s hard to fly in the Far North Tundra, even with a plane. Is there anything I can help with?"

When it came to lawsuits or negotiations, Frank was definitely the expert. But when it came to living in the Arctic Circle, Tom, an old hand who had been around the area for years, was far more knowledgeable.

"I need a way to contact the outside world. There’s no signal in the Far North, and relaying through a radio is a hassle," Feng Mountain stated his primary problem.

"Why not try a satellite phone!" Tom offered with a grin. He then walked towards his Pickup Truck. "Let’s go. I know a place that sells them."

...