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.
