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

As Jiang Chen finished speaking, the two lathes started humming almost simultaneously.

This was not merely a contest of technology, but a life-or-death struggle for power and the right to speak. The air in the first workshop seemed to ignite at that command, with hundreds of eyes fixed on the two figures in the center, as if even blinking would be a waste of time.

Yi Zhonghai, on the other hand, was all set up. He stood with his feet in a T-stance, his back slightly hunched, like an old cat poised to pounce. He first picked up the oil can and carefully dripped a few drops of cutting oil onto the blank before slowly pushing the tool holder.

"Sizzle—"

The cutting tool made contact with the steel, producing a sharp and somewhat hesitant friction sound.

Fine beads of sweat instantly appeared on Yi Zhonghai's forehead. This was high-carbon steel, extremely hard, and with a non-standard curved surface; even the slightest tremor of his hand would ruin the entire workpiece. Every two millimeters the cutter moved, he had to stop the machine immediately, pick up a micrometer, and repeatedly measure, muttering to himself as he calculated the allowance.

"This old man's skill is truly exceptional, so steady," a seventh-level craftsman next to him couldn't help but whisper in admiration. "Look at the cut, controlled to within two slivers, that's what fine work looks like."

Qin Huairu stood to the side, clutching a towel, her eyes filled with anxiety. Every time Yi Zhonghai stopped to wipe his sweat, she would rush over to him, attending to him with more care than if she were her own husband. She knew that if Yi Zhonghai lost today, half of her support in the factory would crumble.

On the other hand, Jiang Chen's situation was so bizarre that it was hard to understand.

He had one hand in his pocket and the other casually resting on the control lever, looking more relaxed and casual than like he was taking a stroll in the park than working.

But on Jiang Chen's retina, the world had already become something else entirely.

[Beginner Mechanical Mastery has been loaded...]

[System-assisted vision activated.]

The originally dull and rough steel blank was instantly covered by countless crisscrossing green lines in his eyes. Those lines constructed a perfect three-dimensional model, and on the surface of the model, a faint red marker indicated the "excess parts" that needed to be cut off.

It's like a high-precision coloring game; you don't need to calculate or measure at all. You just need to control the cutting tool to eliminate the "red" colors.

"Not enough."

Jiang Chen stared at the error value, which was still fluctuating at the micrometer level, and silently recited in his mind.

"System, activate 'Mind Fine-Tuning' mode."

[Warning: This mode consumes 5 transaction points per minute. Confirm?]

"confirm."

In an instant, the surrounding noise receded like a tide. Jiang Chen felt his consciousness extend along his arm, enter the cold machine tool, pass through the gears, flow through the tool holder, and finally converge on the high-speed rotating blade tip.

At this moment, he was not operating the machine; he was the machine itself.

The once-rigid cutting tool now seemed to have become an extension of his fingers, possessing breath and tactile sensation. He could clearly feel every vibration as the blade tip cut into the metal lattice, and he could sense the instant that drop of cutting oil vaporized at high temperature.

Jiang Chen moved.

Without any hesitation or trial and error, he yanked the handle.

"laugh--!!!"

A smooth cutting sound, unlike anything I'd ever heard before, rang out. The sound was no longer sharp and piercing; instead, it had a smooth, tearing quality, like tearing silk.

Blue sparks, like a continuous fiery dragon, erupted from the tip of the blade, tracing a perfect parabola in the air before landing precisely in the scrap bin.

This "high-speed heavy cutting" technique left everyone present completely dumbfounded.

"Are you crazy?! Such a fast rotation speed and such a large cut, the blade is bound to break!" The seventh-level worker who had just praised Yi Zhonghai exclaimed in shock.

Yi Zhonghai was startled by the commotion, his hand trembling so much he almost knocked the knife holder against the chuck. He turned his head, his eyes filled with astonishment and mockery: "Hmph, attention-seeking! Can you even get a decent surface finish with this kind of cutting? It's utter nonsense!"

However, Jiang Chen completely ignored the noise from the outside world.

His hands were as steady as a mountain, and with the system's assistance, every adjustment was precise to the nanometer level. The irregular connecting rod in his hand was visibly shedding its rough outer shell, revealing its silvery-white true form.

One minute.

three minutes.

five minutes.

Just eight minutes later, Jiang Chen suddenly turned off the power.

"Smack."

Everything fell silent.

At this moment, Yi Zhonghai had just finished the first rough machining and was preparing to change to the finishing tool. Hearing the commotion, he subconsciously stopped what he was doing and looked up.

Jiang Chen casually picked up the still-steaming finished product, weighed it in his hand, and then tossed it to Chief Engineer Wang, who was standing to the side dumbfounded, as if it were trash.

"Inspect the goods."

These two words are extremely arrogant.

Chief Engineer Wang hurriedly caught the hot metal lump, and after just one glance, his pupils suddenly contracted to the size of pinpoints.

Even without measurement, just by looking at the naked eye, this is no industrial part; it's clearly a work of art!

The originally dull metal surface now had a mirror-like luster, and could even clearly reflect Chief Engineer Wang's horrified face.

"This...this smoothness..." Chief Engineer Wang swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he picked up the micrometer.

Close the calipers.

Chief Engineer Wang stared intently at the scale, not daring to blink. Thinking he had misread it, he took off his glasses, wiped them, put them back on, and measured again.

Once, twice, from three different angles.

All breathing ceased. Hundreds of workers, like ducks with their necks choked, stretched out their necks, awaiting their sentence.

Chief Engineer Wang slowly raised his head, his face as pale as a sheet of paper, his lips trembling, unable to utter a complete sentence for a long time.

"Engineer Wang, what's going on? Say something!" Factory Director Yang was sweating profusely with anxiety.

"Zero...zero error."

Chief Engineer Wang's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth, filled with a ghostly fear and fanaticism, "The tolerance... is zero?! How is this possible? This is simply impossible! This is a theoretical value! This is mirror-level precision that only industrial machine tools in a constant-temperature laboratory can achieve!"

boom!

This statement was like a bombshell, blowing the ceiling off the first workshop.

"Zero tolerance? I've been a fitter my whole life and I've never seen zero tolerance!"

"My goodness, is Section Chief Jiang some kind of celestial being descended to earth?"

"Who just said they were an amateur? If they're amateurs, then what are we? A junkyard?"

The workers' gazes towards Jiang Chen had completely changed. It was no longer the look one would give a leader, but rather a reverence for an unknown power, as if they were looking at a new god.

For Yi Zhonghai, this cheer was like a death knell from hell.

Upon hearing the words "zero tolerance," Yi Zhonghai's composure completely crumbled.

His proud eighth-grade craftsmanship, the experience he relied on for survival, was shattered in that moment. He was preparing to make a final touch-up when his hand trembled, and the cutting tool plunged deep into the workpiece.

"Creak—Bang!"

With a crisp sound, the blade snapped off, and the connecting rod that had been painstakingly sharpened was scratched with a deep groove, rendering it completely unusable.

But that doesn't matter anymore.

Even if he creates the most perfect work, it is nothing but garbage in the face of "zero tolerance".

The calipers in Yi Zhonghai's hand clattered to the concrete floor. His face turned ashen, his legs buckled, and he nearly collapsed beside the lathe. Qin Huairu quickly supported him, only to find that this usually dignified and profound old man was now trembling violently, his eyes unfocused, muttering to himself, "Impossible...this can't be..."

It's over. It's all over.

Today's defeat is not just about losing a bet; it has completely tarnished his reputation and the prestige he has built up over decades at the steel mill.

Jiang Chen did not bask in the cheers of the crowd. He remained calm, as if he had only done something insignificant.

He slowly walked up to Yi Zhonghai, whose face was pale and who looked as if he had aged ten years.

There was no harsh mockery, no insults that kicked someone when they were down.

Jiang Chen simply looked down at this once arrogant "old man" in the courtyard and said indifferently:

"Master Yi, times have changed."

"Remember to bring your notebooks to future tech team meetings, listen more and talk less."

After saying that, he didn't even glance at Qin Huairu, turned around and left, leaving everyone with a tall, aloof, and insurmountable back view.