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

The winter sun slanted through the tall exhaust windows, casting its rays across the concrete floor of the first workshop.

The air was filled with the smell of engine oil, iron filings, and that distinctive, exhilarating industrial dust.

Today is the day of the annual "All-Staff Skills Competition" at Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

The banner had already been unfurled, with red background and white lettering, reading "Practice hard, strive to be a model worker, and contribute to socialist construction."

The radio was playing the rousing song "We Workers Have Strength," the sound waves rising higher and higher, making people's eardrums buzz.

The entire workshop was completely surrounded by people.

Not only the people in the fitter's workshop, but also the forgers, riveters, and even the canteen staff came to watch the spectacle.

Everyone's focus is on one thing—can Su Zheng's apprentice win?

"Hey, who do you think will come in first place today?"

"Of course! It's definitely those guys Master Yi trained! Jia Dongxu may be gone, but Ma Hua has been with Master Yi for three years; his skills are top-notch!"

"That's not necessarily true! Haven't you seen Zhao Ming, the guy Master Su's been training lately? He's improved incredibly fast! The other day, he made that oddly shaped part, and his precision was even better than the veteran craftsmen!"

"Tch, that's luck, isn't it? In the fitter trade, it's all about years of experience and feel! Su Zheng only taught for a few days? Less than half a month at most! If you could learn to be an eighth-level fitter in half a month, where would those of us who've been doing this for over a decade put our faces?"

The crowd was abuzz with discussion, and in the center of the arena, the atmosphere was even more tense.

The field was divided into two distinct camps.

On the left is the "old school" led by Yi Zhonghai.

Yi Zhonghai, wearing his faded, level-eight work clothes, stood with his hands behind his back, his expression solemn.

Behind him stood three apprentices, each with their heads held high and an air of arrogance in their eyes.

Especially that guy named Ma Hua, who was holding a shiny file and occasionally scraping his fingernails, making a "sizzling" sound, which was very provocative.

On the right is Su Zheng's "new style".

Su Zheng remained calm and composed, even buttoning his work clothes meticulously.

Behind him stood Zhao Ming, Wang Tiezhu, and Liu Guangtian, all dressed in brand-new work clothes and carrying matching toolboxes.

Unlike the casual attitude of the people opposite them, the three of them stood ramrod straight, like soldiers about to be inspected.

"Master, I...I'm a little nervous."

Wang Tiezhu's hands, gripping the toolbox, were slightly sweaty as he spoke in a low voice.

"What's there to be nervous about?"

Su Zheng didn't turn around; his voice was as calm as a still lake, "Have you remembered the mantra I taught you?"

"Remember! Calm mind and steady hand, intention precedes the knife; data is the bone, tolerance is the soul." Wang Tiezhu recited subconsciously.

"That's fine then."

Su Zheng turned around, his gaze sweeping over his three apprentices. "The people opposite are there to see you make a fool of yourselves. But the files in your hands aren't for performing; they're for 'speaking.' When you get on stage, don't look at the people; just look at the files. Repeat the movements you've practiced a thousand, ten thousand times. Winning will be a byproduct."

"Yes, Master!"

Zhao Ming took a deep breath, and the panic in his eyes was gradually replaced by determination.

He remembered the "security blueprint" Su Zheng had given him last night, and his master's words about "building a firewall".

Today's martial arts competition is Zhao Ming's first line of defense!

He will use the file in his hand to keep all doubts, ridicule, and conspiracies out!

"Fellow workers! The competition has officially begun!"

With a command from the workshop director, the first round of assessments—the "Junior Worker Advancement Competition"—began.

This round had the most participants and was the best test of "basic skills".

The task is simple: within one hour, manually machine a standard T-slot slider with a surface roughness of Ra3.2 and dimensional tolerances within ±0.05 mm.

This problem is not difficult for skilled workers, but for apprentices or newly promoted first-level workers, it is a considerable challenge to balance precision and surface finish in such a short period of time.

"when--!"

The gong was struck.

Hundreds of files fell simultaneously, producing a deafening screeching sound.

"Sizzle—sizzle—sizzle—"

MCA immediately adopted a do-or-die attitude.

His movements were expansive and powerful, each push of the file accompanied by the sound of wind.

Iron filings flew like snowflakes, and in just ten minutes, his slider had already taken shape.

"So fast!"

"Is the MCA on fire today? This is more than twice as fast as usual!"

The surrounding workers gasped in amazement.

Yi Zhonghai sat on the stage and nodded in satisfaction.

This is exactly the effect he wanted—to seize the initiative and overwhelm his opponent with momentum and speed!

On the other hand, let's look at Zhao Ming's side.

He and those young workers from the "Su's Fitter Team" were moving so slowly it was frustrating.

Instead of rushing to cut, they first used calipers and squares to measure the blank repeatedly, and then took out a piece of chalk and drew a few lines on the workpiece.

After doing all that, they leisurely picked up the file.

Moreover, their movements were perfectly synchronized, and even the frequency of their pushing and pulling was remarkably consistent.

"Start—Push—Retract—Collect".

It was as if an invisible metronome was directing them.

There were no sparks flying, no profuse sweating, only a monotonous and tedious repetition.

"Is this...is she working or embroidering?"

"At this rate, will we ever finish?"

The murmurs from the audience gradually grew louder.

Some people started shaking their heads, thinking that the group of people Su Zheng trained were all show and no substance, and would falter in real combat.

Su Zheng stood on the sidelines, arms crossed, his expression calm and composed.

He looked at Zhao Ming, without a trace of worry in his eyes.

"Remember, fast is slow, and slow is fast."

Su Zheng's voice still seemed to echo in Zhao Ming's ears: "Doing it right the first time is the fastest way. Any rework is the biggest waste."

In Zhao Ming's world at this moment, there was no noise, no rivals, only the workpiece in front of him.

[SOP Step 3: Rough machining to remove excess material. Target: Leave 0.5 mm for finishing.]

[SOP Step 4: Stress Relief. Observe the texture direction of the cutting surface.]

[Step 5 of the SOP process: Error pre-compensation. Current room temperature is 25 degrees Celsius, estimated workpiece temperature rise is 30 degrees Celsius, and a 0.02 mm thermal expansion allowance must be made in the dimensions.]

In the past few days, Su Zheng not only taught them the technology, but also a way of thinking—to turn "processing" into "computation".

Every cut is calculated.

Time passed second by second.

Forty minutes.

Ma Hua was already sweating profusely; his workpiece was basically finished and he was doing the final polishing.

He glanced at Zhao Ming briefly and found that the other man was still filing at a leisurely pace, without even breaking a sweat.

"Hmph! All pretense!" MCA sneered inwardly. "Let's see how you get out of this!"

He quickened his pace, eager to be the first to hand in his paper.

Forty-five minutes.

"I'm handing in my paper!"

Ma Hua shouted and slammed the workpiece onto the inspection table, his face full of pride.

Yi Zhonghai led the applause, a smile spreading across his face.

Immediately afterwards, several more disciples of Yi Zhonghai's faction handed in their papers. They were all arrogant and smug, as if victory was in their grasp.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ming and his team were still working on it.

Until fifty-five minutes.

Zhao Mingcai stopped what he was doing.

He picked up a cotton swab and gently wiped away the oil and iron filings from the workpiece, then used calipers to perform a final check.

"Perfect."

He let out a long sigh of relief and raised his hand to signal, "I'm handing in my paper."

The other young workers from the "Su's Class" also raised their hands at almost the same time.

"Alright! Collect the papers! Begin the inspection!" Old Zhang shouted.

The inspection process is transparent.

Five judges, each with a micrometer, measured and reported the results on the spot.

First, there are the works of the MCA.

An older judge picked up the MCA T-shaped groove and first glanced at its smoothness.

"Hmm, the finish is good, it's quite shiny." The old judge nodded.

Ma Hua proudly puffed out his chest.

Next comes the dimensional measurement.

"The T-slot width... is 20 millimeters according to standard." The judge turned the micrometer. "The actual measurement is... 19.94 millimeters."

The air suddenly became quiet for a moment.

"Negative tolerance 0.06 mm." The judge frowned. "Out of tolerance 0.01 mm. Points deducted."

"What?!" Ma Hua's eyes widened. "Impossible! I clearly measured it at 19.98 just now! How could it be so bad?"

"Was the workpiece hot when you were measuring it?" the judge asked rhetorically.

"Yes...it is still quite warm."

That's it.

The judge coldly remarked, "Don't you understand thermal expansion and contraction? It's 19.98 when it's hot, but it shrinks by 0.04 when it cools down. Isn't that terrible? Your basic skills are lacking!"

Ma Hua's face turned pale instantly.

He remembered the glass of cold water Su Zheng had splashed on him that day.

Thermal expansion and contraction!

It's thermal expansion and contraction again!

Following that, problems were also found in the workpieces of several other apprentices of the Yi family.

Some were not perpendicular enough, some had extremely poor parallelism, and some had deep scratches on their surfaces due to the pursuit of speed.

Although none of them were considered junk, their scores were generally low.

Yi Zhonghai's expression grew increasingly grim.

He didn't expect that these guys, who seemed pretty clever usually, would mess things up at the crucial moment!

"Next, let's inspect Zhao Ming's workpiece."

The judges picked up Zhao Ming's seemingly unremarkable lump of iron.

At first glance, this workpiece is not as shiny as Ma Hua's; its surface has a delicate matte finish.

"This smoothness... was it achieved through filing?"

The judge paused, then gently ran his fingernail across the surface. "How come there's absolutely no resistance? This is too smooth!"

This is the "cross-texture finishing technique," a unique skill of Su Zhengjiao. Although it's not bright, the smoothness is extremely high.

Next is the size.

"T-slot width... 20.00 mm."

The judge's hand trembled slightly, thinking he had misread it.

He twisted it again.

"20.00 millimeters."

He changed the measurement location again.

"Still 20.00 millimeters."

The judges looked up, staring at Zhao Ming as if he were a monster: "Zero error?!"

boom--!

The entire audience erupted in uproar.

In this era where everything is done manually, zero error is a legend.

Even a level eight worker cannot guarantee that they can achieve zero errors every time.

"Perpendicularity... error 0.005 mm."

"Parallelism...error 0.005 mm."

As each data point was presented, the judges' voices grew louder and louder, eventually even trembling slightly.

"Total score...full marks!"

"That's impossible!"

Yi Zhonghai suddenly stood up. "How can hand filing possibly achieve zero error? There's definitely something wrong with that!"

He strode to the inspection table, snatched the micrometer, and measured it himself.

once...

twice...

three times!

Yi Zhonghai's hands began to tremble slightly.

No matter how he measured it, the mark seemed to be welded to 20.00, and it wouldn't budge.

This is not just about technology; it's about absolute control over the properties of materials.

Zhao Ming calculated that "thermal expansion allowance" with precision down to the micrometer level!

"Master Yi, do you see... any other problems?" Su Zheng walked over unnoticed, his tone indifferent.

Yi Zhonghai stared intently at Su Zheng, his eyes blazing with fury.

But he couldn't lift the micrometer in his hand.

Facts speak louder than words.

If he dared to lie in front of thousands of people in the factory, he would completely lose face as an eighth-grade worker.

"No...no problem."

Yi Zhonghai gritted his teeth and squeezed out those three words.

"Zhao Ming, first place in the first round!"

As Lao Zhang announced this, thunderous applause resounded throughout the workshop.

"Awesome! Absolutely awesome!"

"That's real skill! Unassuming most of the time, but when it comes down to it, it's a game-changer!"

"I want to sign up too! I want to learn SOPs too!"

Amidst the overwhelming cheers, MCA stood dejectedly in a corner, like an abandoned, drowning dog.

Yi Zhonghai, on the other hand, sat back down on the judges' panel with a livid face.

The first game ended in a complete defeat.

Moreover, it was a complete and utter defeat, with not a single excuse to be found.

Su Zheng stood outside the crowd, watching Zhao Ming being tossed into the air by his coworkers, but he didn't show much excitement.

He knew this was just an appetizer.

The real showdown is yet to come.

……

During a break.

Yi Zhonghai used the excuse of going to the toilet to pull the workshop director, Lao Zhang, to a secluded corner.

"Old Zhang, something's not right with this match," Yi Zhonghai said with a gloomy face.

"Something's not right. You saw Zhao Ming's technique yourself; it was truly exceptional." Old Zhang was still savoring the feeling of that zero-error moment.

"He was just lucky! Or maybe this batch of materials just happened to be to his liking!"

Yi Zhonghai grew anxious. "Old Zhang, think about it. If he really gets first place, what will happen to our factory's old rules? Apprentices won't listen to their masters anymore; they'll all go and learn some shortcut methods. How will we lead the team? Who will be responsible if there's a safety accident?"

Old Zhang frowned: "Then what do you suggest we do? The scores have already been printed out."

"The beginner level is nothing; there are intermediate and advanced levels to come."

Yi Zhonghai lowered his voice, "The next round is 'Assembling Irregular Components.' This question is too conventional; Zhao Ming and the others have definitely practiced it. We need to change the question."

"Change the topic?"

"Yes! Let's make it harder! Let's make it something that's not in the books! Let's make it something that tests 'adaptability'!"

A glint of ruthlessness flashed in Yi Zhonghai's eyes. "Don't we have a batch of 'eccentric shaft' scrap in our warehouse? Let's test you on that! Repair the eccentric shafts!"

"Eccentric shaft repair?"

Old Zhang gasped. "Old Yi, that's a job only fifth- or even sixth-level workers dare to do! These kids are only first or second-level. Isn't this making things difficult for them?"

"We're just trying to make things difficult for people!"

Yi Zhonghai snorted coldly, "A competition is meant to select top talent. If they can even do this, then I'll be convinced. If they can't... hmph, then it just means that so-called SOP is nothing but a decorative facade that can only produce standard parts!"

"Once this is proven, Su Zheng's 'myth' will fall apart on its own."

Old Zhang hesitated for a moment.

Although he admired Su Zheng, he was also worried about the superficial and impetuous atmosphere brought about by "quick success".

Moreover, Yi Zhonghai is a top technical expert in the factory, and his opinions cannot be ignored.

"Alright... let's have another round. But these questions are too difficult. What if no one can solve them?"

"If no one can do it, then let's see who does it slightly better."

Yi Zhonghai was full of confidence, "Although my apprentices lost just now, I've privately taught them how to find the reference point for the eccentric axis. I'm confident this time."

"Okay, it's settled then."

……

Ten minutes later.

When the announcement was made over the loudspeaker that the topic for the second round of the competition had been temporarily changed to "eccentric shaft repair," the entire venue erupted in uproar.

"An eccentric shaft? Is this for a Level 1 technician exam?"

"Is this some kind of engineer's exam? Are you kidding me!"

"Isn't this blatantly making things difficult for people?"

Zhao Ming was also stunned.

This question was completely beyond their training scope.

An eccentric shaft, as the name suggests, has its axis and center of rotation not on the same line, making it extremely difficult to machine and measure, let alone "repair".

"Master..." Zhao Ming looked at Su Zheng in a flustered manner.

"Don't panic, I'm here."

Su Zheng, however, maintained his calm and composed expression.

He glanced at Yi Zhonghai, who was beaming with pride on the podium, chuckled softly, and then walked straight over...