I started with a ship full of max-level veterans, and I'm just a complete noob.

Director Wang arrived at the factory at eight o'clock the next morning.

When Jiang Ming received the call from the security department, he was squatting under the test bench inspecting the pulse transformer terminals of tube B04.

After hearing the message, he handed the wrench to Lao Sun, wiped the machine oil off his hands on his work clothes, and got up to walk towards the security department.

The door to the security office was half-open, and there was a strong smell of tobacco inside.

Director Wang sat in an old rattan chair, the table in front of him covered with files, and a crew-cut clerk stood beside him.

When Jiang Ming pushed the door open, Director Wang was flipping through a transcript typed out on a typewriter, without even looking up.

"sit."

Jiang Ming sat down on the wooden bench opposite him without asking any questions.

Director Wang turned to the last page of the transcript, read it, closed the paper, and looked up at him.

"The receptionist at the chemical plant in the eastern suburbs was detained three days ago."

He spoke in the same way as always, without any unnecessary preamble.

"He didn't resist, nor did he run away. When our people arrived at his doorstep, he was chopping wood in the yard. He paused for a few seconds when he saw us, then put down his axe and followed us."

Jiang Ming did not interrupt.

"Two things were explained."

Director Wang picked up the enamel mug on the table and took a sip of tea.

"First, starting last winter, he regularly transported by-products from the rare earth refining workshop of the chemical plant out of the country under the guise of waste residue."

"There are three channels in total, and your factory's foundry workshop is one of them."

"What about the other two?" Jiang Ming asked.

"One brick kiln goes towards Tongxian County, and the other goes towards Fengtai Freight Station. They both use the waste material category."

Director Wang placed the teacup back on the table, the lid making a sound as it hit the rim.

"The second thing."

His tone turned somber.

"The person who instructed him to do these things only knew a code name."

Director Wang paused for a moment, his gaze sweeping across Jiang Ming's face.

"Grey Pigeon".

Jiang Ming went over those two words in his mind.

"Has he seen this person before?"

"no."

"The way we contact each other is to meet at the Dongzhimen morning market on the afternoon of the 15th of each month, but it's never face-to-face."

"The other party will place a newspaper of the day at the agreed-upon stall, with instructions and the time and place for the next pickup inside."

"After taking the newspaper, the receptionist left last month's receipt on the corner of the stall and left."

He said he had never seen the gray pigeon's face from beginning to end.

Jiang Ming leaned back in his chair, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the oil stains on his work clothes knees.

Director Wang continued, "The results of the investigation into Liu Shouxin's external communications are also in."

He pulled a thin sheet of paper from the pile of files, on which were listed three lines of dates and times.

"September 14th, 2:17 PM; September 16th, 9:43 AM; September 18th, 4:02 PM."

"All three phone calls were made from your factory's reception office to the reception office of the East Suburb Chemical Plant."

"The waste bins were shipped out on September 17th," Jiang Ming said calmly.

"One day before and one day after."

Director Wang nodded.

"We didn't record what those three phone calls were about, but the timing of them is too perfect to be a coincidence."

"Liu Shouxin was at least the person responsible for receiving the goods."

"Was he signing for these buckets for himself, or was he doing it for someone else?"

Director Wang did not answer directly, but simply put the call record back into the file folder.

"Liu Shouxin has been in confinement for almost two months and still refuses to divulge anything."

"Now that I have the receptionist's account and the timeline of the calls, I'm prepared to re-interrogate you this afternoon."

After a few seconds of silence in the room, Jiang Ming asked the question he had always wanted to ask.

"Where is that 96% purity cerium oxalate at the bottom of the barrel ultimately going if it's not kept in our factory for processing?"

Director Wang looked at him for a while.

Those eyes no longer held the affable ease they usually displayed when speaking to grassroots officials; only scrutiny remained.

"I'll investigate this line."

He said his tone left no room for negotiation.

"Just mind your own business."

Jiang Ming did not ask any further questions.

……

After leaving the security department with the flat-headed clerk, Director Wang went to Workshop No. 1.

When Jiang Ming followed him in, Director Wang was already standing in front of the testing platform.

The filaments of the five tubes emitted a dim red glow inside the glass shell, and the pointer of the microammeter hung steadily on the dial, as if it were glued on.

Old Sun stood to the side, still clutching the wrench from earlier, unsure whether he should greet him.

Director Wang ignored everyone else and went to the instruments to check the readings one by one.

乙零一，二百八四。

乙零二，二百八四。

B03, 281.

B04, 283.5.

05, 283.5.

The curve at the 380th hour was as flat as if it had been drawn with a ruler.

"How much is left?" Director Wang asked.

"One hundred and twenty hours," Jiang Ming replied. "Five days."

Director Wang straightened up, pulled his coat collar up, and turned to walk towards the workshop door.

He paused at the threshold and looked back.

"I'll cut the ribbon on the day I finish running 500 hours."

After saying that, he went out the door.

The engine of the black Jeep outside had already started running.

Jiang Ming stood at the gate, watching the car drive across the main road of the factory area and turn onto the road outside the gate.

The wind blew in through the cracks in the workshop's iron gate, causing the scraps of paper on the ground to swirl.

He turned back to the testing table, opened the notebook, and wrote a line of small print next to the 380th hour.

Five hundred hours, one hundred and twenty hours, five days.

The pen tip paused on the paper for a moment.

He turned to the next blank page and wrote three letters on the top line.

МАГ.

It was followed by two Chinese characters.

Magnetron.

Next, there are three words.

Arrives the day after tomorrow.

As he closed the notebook, Old Sun leaned over and asked a question in a low voice.

"Director Wang doesn't look well. What happened?"

"It was bound to happen."

Jiang Ming tucked the notebook under the toolbox.

"Take a look at terminal 04 on the pulse transformer side. I felt the nut on the right was a little loose."

Old Sun responded and crawled under the table with the wrench in hand.

Xiao Zhao walked over from the other end carrying a standard resistance box, ready to perform the second instrument calibration of the day.

The workshop has returned to its normal rhythm.

The sounds of tools colliding with metal, the scratching of pen tips across graph paper, and the dim red glow of five tube filaments filled Workshop One once again.

Everything is pushing towards the 500-hour mark.

Jiang Ming pulled up a stool and sat down, taking out the cross-sectional photo of the coating that Zhou Changlin had given him yesterday from the drawer.

Under 5,000x magnification, the dark line is clearly visible and glaring, running across the boundary between the coating and the substrate.

The reverse pulse is for control.

Deionized water is the only way to cure the problem completely.

He didn't write those two sentences down in his notebook, but they were etched into his mind.

In mass production, every drop of water used to prepare the suspension must pass through a deionized water column without exception.

He put the photo back into the cardboard envelope, tucked it into the bottom of the toolbox, and placed it next to the brown paper notebook.

……

At six o'clock in the evening, Jiang Ming went to the canteen and got two steamed buns and a bowl of cabbage and vermicelli soup. He then carried the enamel basin back home.

The streetlights in the factory area were already on, casting a dim yellow light on the coal slag heaps by the roadside.

The foundry workshop is located on the road between the canteen and Workshop No. 1.

Normally, Jiang Ming wouldn't even glance at this road when he walks down it.

The cast iron parts and quartz sand in the foundry workshop had nothing to do with his work.

But today, as he passed the workshop gate, he caught a glimpse of a figure bending over out of the corner of his eye.

Xiao Li was coming out of the foundry workshop, carrying a cast iron blank on his shoulder. His face was covered in black ash, and the sweat on his work clothes had turned into salt frost.

When he looked up, his eyes met Jiang Ming's.

The movement of carrying the cast iron parts paused for a moment, and the blank material on his shoulder slid down an inch.

He then lowered his head, steadied the things on his shoulder, and turned to walk into the workshop.

After taking two steps, he tilted his head slightly and nodded in Jiang Ming's direction.

The amplitude is very small.

So small that you wouldn't even notice it unless you were looking at it intentionally.

Jiang Ming carried the enamel basin and continued walking towards Workshop No. 1 without stopping or looking back.

The steamed buns were still warm, and steam from the cabbage soup rose from the rim of the bowl.

The streetlights cast his long shadow on the mottled exterior wall of the foundry, receding into the distance step by step.