Courtyard House: Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor) Traded for an Aircraft Carrier, the Whole Count

Spring came later than usual in 1966.

Although the New Year was long over, the late spring cold snap was like a persistent, unwelcome guest, shrouding the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill in a hazy chill.

Normally, the first workshop should be bustling with activity at this time, with sparks flying and machines roaring. But today, it is eerily silent, with only the drafty wind howling through the cold, hard machine tools, emitting a chilling whistle.

Hundreds of workers formed a semicircle, barely daring to breathe. In the center of the circle, the Soviet-made T-34 high-precision cutting machine, hailed as the "treasure of the factory," lay paralyzed in place, like a steel behemoth that had suddenly died.

This machine was among the last pieces of equipment left behind by the Soviet experts before they withdrew, and it's crucial for supplying parts to a key national defense project by the end of the year. If it stops, the entire steel rolling mill's special steel production will be paralyzed.

"Why haven't they found the cause yet? Huh? It's been two hours!"

Factory Director Yang was sweating profusely, his hat askew, and the blisters on the corners of his mouth were red, swollen, and shiny from the inflammation. He paced back and forth beside the machine, his leather shoes screeching on the cement floor.

"Factory Director, don't worry, there's no use in worrying." Deputy Factory Director Li stood to the side with his hands behind his back and said with a forced smile, "These foreign gadgets are delicate. I always tell them to take good care of them, but some people don't listen. Now look what's happened, they've let us down at a critical moment. I'm afraid we won't be able to take responsibility for this."

Factory Director Yang turned around abruptly and glared at him fiercely, but he didn't have time to argue with him. He turned to look at Chief Engineer Wang, whose hands were covered in oil.

At that moment, Engineer Wang was leading several key technical personnel, crawling inside the machine to dismantle it. After a long while, he finally crawled out, holding several broken metal fragments in his hands, his face ashen.

"Factory manager, it's over." Engineer Wang's voice trembled. "The core transmission gear has broken. This gear has a hyperboloid structure, and the precision requirement is at the micrometer level. What's worse is... when the Soviet experts withdrew, they burned all the blueprints for this part, and we don't even have a reference."

Factory Director Yang swayed, almost collapsing to the ground: "Can we replicate it?"

Engineer Wang shook his head bitterly: "Without blueprints and a mother machine, relying solely on surveying will lead to too much error. Our current technology can't manufacture it."

A sense of despair spread like a plague through the workshop.

At this moment, Yi Zhonghai, who had been standing silently to the side, moved. Wearing his faded work clothes, he walked slowly to the machine with his hands behind his back.

Although Jiang Chen had severely damaged his prestige during this period, in this purely technical field, as the factory's only level eight fitter, he still held considerable weight. He squinted, reaching out to touch the broken gear's cut surface, as if caressing a dead work of art.

"Uncle, could you take a look?" an old worker asked tentatively.

Yi Zhonghai sighed, shook his head, and an expression mixed with helplessness and secret pleasure appeared on his old face.

Even a skilled cook can't cook without rice.

Yi Zhonghai straightened up, his gaze sweeping over Director Yang and Engineer Wang. Though his voice wasn't loud, it carried the arrogance characteristic of his technical field. "This is the Soviet Union's specialty. The materials are special, and the heat treatment process is top secret. Don't even mention us; even if we invited experts from the ministry, without blueprints, it would be like a blind man lighting a lamp—a complete waste of time."

As he spoke, a sense of certainty in his eyes shone through, as if the machine's malfunction had become a touchstone to test his authority as an eighth-grade technician.

"Are we just going to stand by and watch?" Factory Director Yang's eyes were bloodshot, and his fists were clenched so tightly they cracked.

"Whose fault is this?" Yi Zhonghai said meaningfully, his hands behind his back. "Some things, you know, we old craftsmen still have to figure out slowly. You can't fix machines just by relying on administrative orders or those empty titles."

These words were barbed; anyone could tell who they were alluding to.

In the midst of this suffocating silence, a series of neat and powerful footsteps came from the workshop entrance.

"Make way."

The clear, cold voice wasn't loud, but it was like an ice scalpel, instantly slicing through the frozen air.

The crowd instinctively parted to make way. Jiang Chen, dressed in a crisp security uniform with his belt neatly fastened, strode towards them, followed by two fully armed security officers.

He ignored the stares of the crowd and walked straight to the massive machine tool.

In those deep black eyes, a pale blue data stream, unseen by anyone, was frantically scrolling across the screen.

[The Multiverse Resources Trading System is now open for scanning...]

[Target: T-34 high-precision cutting machine tool (Soviet-made).]

[Status: Severely damaged. Core transmission module destroyed; connecting rod wear 78%.]

[Analysis results: This product of early industrial civilization has three major design flaws.]

[Solution: A "Cyber ​​Dimension Low-Level Repair Solution" has been detected in the store and is compatible. Would you like to redeem it?]

Jiang Chen narrowed his eyes slightly, and the heavy steel behemoth instantly became transparent in his field of vision. Red fault points flashed brightly like hemangiomas in the complex mechanical structure, and the parameters, materials, and stress conditions of each part were clearly visible.

This is a case of dimensional reduction attack.

What seemed like an insurmountable technological chasm to Yi Zhonghai and Engineer Wang was nothing more than a basic elementary school math problem in Jiang Chen's system.

Jiang Chen turned off the data panel, turned around, and looked calmly at Director Yang, whose face was full of anxiety.

"Factory manager, perhaps I have a solution."

These words were spoken casually, but at this moment, they were like a thunderclap, making everyone's ears ring.

The entire audience was stunned.

Hundreds of eyes stared at Jiang Chen, some with doubt, some with disbelief, and most with a sense of absurdity.

You're the head of the security department, an expert at catching spies, and a master at fighting, but this is about repairing precision machine tools! This is a top-level problem that even a skilled worker and a chief engineer can't solve!

"laugh--"

A piercing laugh broke the silence.

Yi Zhonghai seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world, a mocking smile curving his lips: "Section Chief Jiang, this is precision machinery. Not even a hair's breadth off can make it work. It's not like that Mauser pistol on your waist that you can just wipe and make it go off. Some things are better left unsaid, lest you lose face."

He had been incredibly frustrated lately. He couldn't compete with Jiang Chen in terms of power and tactics, but in the realm of technology, he wouldn't allow anyone to interfere, especially Jiang Chen. He wanted to use this opportunity to shatter Jiang Chen's "omniscient and omnipotent" facade.

Deputy Factory Director Li chimed in sarcastically, "Yeah, Xiao Jiang, even though you have the title of deputy head of the technical team, this is a completely different field. This is equipment worth millions; if you ruin it, can you take responsibility?"

Factory Director Yang looked at Jiang Chen, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes. He also felt that Jiang Chen had been a bit too overconfident this time, after all, this was a terminal illness for which there were no blueprints.

"Jiang Chen, this is no joke," Factory Director Yang said in a deep voice.

Jiang Chen didn't even glance at Yi Zhonghai or Deputy Factory Director Li. He simply looked at Factory Director Yang quietly, and the calmness and confidence that emanated from his very being inexplicably calmed Factory Director Yang's previously flustered heart.

"Director Yang, do I look like I'm joking?"

Jiang Chen took a step forward, his aura overwhelming, causing those around him to unconsciously step back. He pointed at the malfunctioning machine, his voice ringing out throughout the entire workshop:

"If I don't have the skills, I won't take on the job."