Courtyard House: A Major Power's Heavy Industry, Hand-Crafted Nuclear Fusion

Although the applause in the workshop had subsided, the lingering excitement, like molten iron, sizzled in everyone's hearts.

Zhao Ming's "blind lock picking" not only opened the rusty three-ring lock, but also seemed to unlock the lock in the hearts of the young workers in the workshop.

So this is how you learn to be a fitter?

So, it turns out that even without talent, you can succeed through the right methods?

This shock is revolutionary.

In an era where the saying goes "teaching an apprentice can starve the master," master craftsmen often taught their skills with "three parts instruction and seven parts comprehension," keeping the key tips hidden in their sleeves.

It's unheard of for someone like Su Zheng to break down and explain to his apprentice how to exert force, how to listen to sounds, and how to compensate, even quantifying them into specific actions.

When Su Zheng returned to his workstation, he felt countless burning gazes following him.

He ignored it and simply sat down with a calm expression.

The "Eye of Truth" had just drained a lot of his mental energy, and he felt a slight stinging pain in his mind, but his thoughts were exceptionally clear.

If you want to establish technological hegemony, it's not enough to rely on one person working alone.

Why was Yi Zhonghai able to wield such power in the factory and the factory?

Isn't it because he has a group of apprentices and followers who control the power in the workshop?

Then I'll use a more advanced system to completely undermine your foundation.

Su Zheng pulled out a red leather notebook, a common sight in this era, from his pocket, picked up a fountain pen, and unscrewed the cap.

[The Eye of Truth system has activated its knowledge base organization mode.]

[Objective: To standardize the core skills SOPs (Standard Operating Procedures) for Level 1 to Level 3 fitter positions.]

[Generifying...]

His pen tip scratched across the paper.

There are no profound theories or obscure terms.

What he wrote was all practical advice.

"Filing posture correction: Push off with your right foot, generate power from your waist, drive your forearm with your upper arm, and keep your wrist stiff and locked. Sound localization method: coarse filing produces a dull, thunderous sound, fine filing produces a crisp, rain-like sound, and finishing produces a fine, silky sound..."

He wrote for an entire afternoon.

……

Early the next morning.

The break room in the first workshop of the steel rolling mill was several times more lively than usual.

At this time of day, the workers would either be eating cornbread or chatting and joking.

But today, a group of people were huddled together in a corner, their heads pressed together, and gasps of surprise could be heard from the middle of the crowd.

"Holy crap... So that's how it is! No wonder the middle of my surface always collapses when I file; it turns out I didn't release the force with my wrist on the return stroke!"

"Amazing! This thing says 'sound localization,' and I just tried it out—it really helps me pinpoint the intensity!"

"This one's brilliant! 'Three Remedial Techniques for Thread Machining.' Last time, I ruined a part because of stripped threads and got scolded by my master for half an hour. If I had known this beforehand, I could have fixed it in two minutes!"

In the center of the crowd, Zhao Ming, like a mother hen protecting her chicks, tightly clutched the red notebook in his hand, his face showing both pride and nervousness.

"Hey, hey, don't grab it! Master said this is just a copy; the original is with me! Handle it gently, don't wrinkle it!"

The cover of this notebook has a line of large, bold characters written on it: "Fitter's Crash Course Notes (Volume 1)".

This is the "secret manual" that Su Zheng compiled overnight.

In this era of technological blockade and knowledge scarcity, such a notebook that quantifies and standardizes experience is like the "Nine Yin Manual" in martial arts novels for these young workers who are struggling to find their way.

"Zhao Ming, Brother Zhao! Can I borrow your work for one night? Just one night! I'll trade you two pounds of flour!" A young worker who usually had a good relationship with Zhao Ming pleaded, his face flushed.

"Give me a break! You think you can change your skills with just two pounds of flour? Brother Zhao, I'll give you an industrial voucher! Let me borrow it for half a day!"

"I'll provide a hostage!"

The scene got out of control and almost turned into an auction.

In a corner, several disciples of Yi Zhonghai's faction watched coldly, their faces extremely grim.

One of them, named Ma Hua, was Yi Zhonghai's disciple. He often bullied others in the workshop because his master was an eighth-grade worker. He was already furious when Zhao Ming showed off yesterday, and seeing these people holding a tattered notebook like a treasure today only fueled his jealousy.

"Tch, a bunch of country bumpkins who've never seen the world."

MCA said sarcastically, "Being a fitter is a skill that requires hands-on practice and years of experience! You think you can learn it by looking at a couple of pages of paper? What's the point of having a master then? That's a joke!"

The bustling crowd fell silent for a moment.

Zhao Ming suddenly raised his head, his eyes sharp: "Ma Hua, watch your mouth. My master's notes are a summary of the experience of an eighth-level craftsman, writing down all the tricks we usually can't figure out. You don't believe me? You don't believe how that lock was opened yesterday?"

"That was pure luck!"

Enraged, Ma Hua slammed his teacup down. "Besides," he shouted, "the workshop has its own rules! The technology is a factory secret, a livelihood passed down from master to apprentice! Su Zheng just wrote these things down on paper and spread them around; that's leaking trade secrets! That's breaking the rules!"

This hat is very large.

In this era, there is indeed a set of unspoken rules governing the master-apprentice succession.

If a master teaches his apprentice, he might go hungry, so many key techniques are passed down "within the family but not to outsiders."

In the eyes of the old-school craftsmen, Su Zheng's behavior was indeed "disrupting the established order".

Seeing that no one spoke, Ma Hua became even more arrogant, strode over, and reached out to snatch the notebook from Zhao Ming's hand:

"This junk that's disrupting the workshop should be confiscated! Hand it over to Master Yi to deal with!"

"You dare!"

Zhao Ming suddenly stood up and clutched the notebook tightly to his chest.

However, MCA, relying on their height and strength, and with two of Yi Zhonghai's apprentices following behind them, directly resorted to force to snatch the goods.

"Rip—"

During the struggle, the notebook's cover was torn open.

That crisp sound was like igniting a powder keg.

The young workers, who were still hesitant, had tears in their eyes when they saw the notebook they regarded as their "hope to change their fate" being torn up.

"MCA, you son of a bitch!"

"Why did you tear up our books?!"

"Brothers, that's how we learn our skills! He's trying to take away our livelihood!"

Someone shouted "Smash the rice bowl," and those three words touched everyone's most sensitive nerve.

In this era of scarcity, skills determined rank, rank determined wages, and wages determined the food supply for the whole family.

The MCA didn't just tear up books; they tore up their hopes for a pay rise and enough to eat!

Whoosh!

Seven or eight young workers rushed forward and shoved the MCA members aside.

Some even grabbed wrenches, and the scene instantly spiraled out of control.

"What are you doing! Do you all want to rebel?"

A powerful, angry shout rang out at the doorway.

Yi Zhonghai walked in with his hands behind his back and a gloomy face.

Behind him followed Old Zhang, the workshop director.

The young workers, who had been so enthusiastic just moments before, suddenly lost some of their momentum when they saw this "old man" who was a level eight worker.

Ma Hua, as if seeing a savior, immediately accused someone first: "Master! You've come at the perfect time! Zhao Ming and his gang were causing trouble, and they were spreading rumors with a tattered book, claiming it was a 'fitter's secret manual.' When I went to stop them, they tried to hit me!"

Yi Zhonghai's gaze swept across the entire room, finally landing on the tattered notebook in Zhao Ming's arms.

His heart was actually in turmoil.

The trick Su Zheng taught his disciple yesterday kept him up all night.

When he heard this morning that Su Zheng had created a "crash course notebook," his first reaction was that it was absurd, and his second reaction was panic.

If skills can really be "learned quickly," then what is he, an eighth-grade worker who maintains his authority by "accumulating seniority and keeping his skills hidden"?

This must not be allowed to spread!

Yi Zhonghai put on a stern face, feigning deep sorrow:

"Nonsense! Utter nonsense! The art of fitter's work is profound and complex, developed bit by bit over generations. To write it down on paper? That would be misleading! If you practice by following a book and ruin your feel for the craft, develop bad habits, you'll ruin your lives!"

He turned to the workshop foreman: "Old Zhang, this kind of unhealthy trend must be stopped. That notebook must be confiscated and destroyed to prevent young people from going astray."

Workshop foreman Lao Zhang hesitated.

He had actually glanced at it twice and thought what was written there made a lot of sense. But Yi Zhonghai was the factory's top technical expert, and his words carried a lot of weight.

Just then, a clear, cold voice came from behind the crowd.

"Ruin a person's life? Master Yi, that's a bit too harsh."

The crowd automatically parted to form a path.

Su Zheng walked in unhurriedly, carrying a teacup.

He was wearing faded work clothes, yet he exuded the aura of a senior engineer.

He walked up to Zhao Ming, glanced at the torn notebook, and his eyes turned slightly cold.

"Master, I'm sorry, I didn't protect him well..." Zhao Ming said with a face full of guilt.

Su Zheng patted him on the shoulder, took the notebook, gently smoothed out the creases, and then turned to face Yi Zhonghai.

"Master Yi, you are an eighth-level worker, so you should be able to read blueprints and process documents."

Su Zheng casually flipped to a page and showed it to everyone, "Which point written here isn't based on scientific force analysis? Which point isn't a standard operating procedure? How did it become a misleading and deceitful path in your mouth?"

Yi Zhonghai scoffed, "Armchair strategist! Real skill comes from feel and timing! You write these things down and make everyone think they can master them just by reading them—isn't that just being superficial?"

"Feel? Cooking temperature?"

Su Zheng laughed, a hint of mockery in his smile. "That's the teaching method from your era. Because it's hard to explain, you can only rely on intuition. But we live in the industrial age. What we need are standards, efficiency, and reproducible processes! If everything relies on intuition, how long will it take for our factory's thousands of workers to master their craft?"

These words resonated deeply.

The young workers around were filled with enthusiasm.

Yup!

Why should we have to work like oxen and horses for years to learn even a little bit?

If there are more scientific methods, why not use them?

Su Zheng didn't give Yi Zhonghai a chance to refute, and looked directly at Lao Zhang, the workshop director.

"Director, this is also what I wanted to report to the factory today."

Su Zheng raised the notebook in his hand, his voice rising a few decibels, clearly carrying throughout the entire lounge.

"This notebook is a summary of my personal operational experience, which I define as 'factory-level technical training material.' I, Su Zheng, don't subscribe to that feudalistic 'teaching an apprentice only to starve the master' mentality. Anyone who wants to learn technical skills, anyone who wants to contribute to the country's development, is welcome to learn!"

Whoosh—!

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

"You can learn all of that? Really?"

"Master Su is so generous!"

"This level of vision is worlds apart from some people who keep things hidden!"

Yi Zhonghai's face instantly turned as black as the bottom of a pot.

Su Zheng's move was too ruthless; he directly positioned himself on the moral high ground.

If he continues to oppose it, then he is considered a "feudal dreg" and someone who hinders everyone's progress.

But Su Zheng suddenly changed the subject.

"However, every country has its laws, and every industry has its rules. There are thresholds to learn."

Su Zheng handed the notebook back to Zhao Ming and said calmly, "After all, my energy is limited, and this material isn't exactly cheap. From today onwards, this 'Volume One' will only serve as introductory material. Zhao Ming, you're in charge of registering it."

"Those who want to learn, register here first. I'll only give you three days. After three days, I will organize a basic assessment. Only those who pass the assessment will be eligible to receive a copy of this notebook and attend my weekend 'technical refresher course.' As for whether you can get the subsequent 'Book Two,' 'Book Three,' or even my one-on-one guidance, it all depends on your grades and performance."

This tactic is called—turning something free into something scarce, and turning scattered sand into an organization.

If it's given away for free, no one will appreciate it.

But if a threshold is set, this notebook becomes a "certificate of qualification" and a "symbol of identity".

The young workers' eyes changed instantly.

The initial "spectatorship" has transformed into "desire" and "competition."

"Brother Zhao! I'm signing up! I'll be first!"

"I'll register too! My name is Wang Tiezhu!"

"And me!"

In no time, Zhao Ming was surrounded by a crowd.

This time, instead of scrambling, people lined up voluntarily, and some even took the initiative to maintain order.

"Don't push! Take your time! Anyone who cuts in line is disrespecting Master Su!"

At this moment, a community of shared interests, with Su Zheng at its core, Zhao Ming as its backbone, and "technological upgrades" as its bond, began to take shape.

Yi Zhonghai stood there, watching this scene, feeling his hands and feet turn ice cold.

His painstakingly cultivated system of "respect for teachers" was easily breached by Su Zheng with a small booklet.

He could sense that the young workers who had previously held him in high esteem now looked at him with a hint of doubt and distance.

Ma Hua, still standing nearby, muttered indignantly, "Master, this... this is just going to let him do this? Won't this create chaos?"

Yi Zhonghai took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, gave Su Zheng a cold look, and turned to leave.

"Let's go! Back to work!"

He knew that arguing was pointless now.

Su Zheng used "technology" and "interests" to bind these people together.

To turn the tide, the only way is to completely crush Su Zheng on a tougher stage!

……

The turmoil subsided.

Su Zheng sat at his workstation, watching Zhao Ming, who was busy and sweating profusely but extremely excited, and a slight smile appeared on his lips.

[System Notification: Detection indicates the host is establishing a technological faction; "Organizational Influence" increased. Reward: Basic Mechanical Drawing Proficiency.]

Just then, the loudspeaker in the workshop suddenly came on.

"Buzz...Buzz...Attention, fellow workers! Attention, fellow workers!"

The clear voice of the announcer, Yu Haitang, echoed above the factory.

"In response to the national call for 'mass technical skills training' and to improve our factory's production level, the factory leadership has decided to hold a factory-wide 'technical skills competition' next week!"

"This competition is open to all, regardless of job type or rank; everyone is welcome to register!"

"Those who achieve the top three rankings will not only receive generous material rewards, but the factory will also give them priority in promotion and award them the title of 'Technical Expert'! We hope all our colleagues will actively prepare and strive for excellent results!"

The broadcast was repeated three times.

The entire workshop instantly erupted in excitement.

Promotion and rating! Technical expert!

This is a real and tangible benefit!

Zhao Ming's hand, which was registering the papers, trembled violently. He turned sharply to look at Su Zheng, his eyes filled with fervor: "Master! A martial arts competition! A grand martial arts competition!"

If the notebook we just read only gave everyone hope, then this broadcast has turned that hope into an imminent battlefield.

Su Zheng picked up his teacup, gently blew on the tea leaves floating on the surface of the water, and looked through the noisy crowd to Yi Zhonghai's somewhat stiff back in the distance.

Is Yi Zhonghai trying to turn things around with this?

No.

Su Zheng smiled slightly, his eyes revealing a confidence that he was in control of everything.

This is hardly a martial arts competition.

This is clearly my coronation ceremony, where I, Su Zheng, with my "new army," step over the corpses of the old era to officially ascend to the throne.

"Zhao Ming," Su Zheng put down his teacup, his voice not loud, but clearly heard by the young workers who had just signed up, "tell everyone that we're taking the top three spots in this competition."

"Huh?" Zhao Ming was stunned. "Master, the top three? The whole factory?"

"Yes, the entire factory."

Su Zheng stood up and dusted off his clothes.

"If we're going to play, let's go big."