Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

Zhao Shanhe stepped aside by half a step.

"bring it on."

"Masters, please take a look at these items first."

The warehouse door creaked open.

A wave of cold air, a mixture of engine oil, wood, and old dust, rushed out and went straight into people's noses.

It was pitch black inside, with only a sliver of pale moonlight filtering in through the doorway, casting vague outlines of the large wooden supports on the ground, like iron beasts crouching in the darkness.

Wang Daikui stopped walking instinctively.

Old Chen didn't say anything, he just squinted and looked inside.

Zhao Shanhe reached out and touched the wall, then snapped the light cord down.

The old lamp overhead flickered twice before suddenly lighting up.

The dim yellow light suddenly filled half of the warehouse.

The dozen or so machines were all exposed at once.

The paint finish is cold and hard, with sharp edges and corners that are neatly finished.

The wiring, riveting, handwheels, and tool holders on the machine body gleamed with a cold metallic sheen under the light, making them look like completely different things compared to the rusty iron frames and peeling paint on the walls in the warehouse.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Wang Daikui's eyes widened immediately.

"Damn it..."

He seemed to have a lump in his throat, stood there stunned for two seconds, then suddenly took two steps forward, circled half a circle around the machine on the far side, and it became brighter and brighter with each turn.

"It was pitch black outside yesterday, and I was so busy moving things that I didn't even notice how bright it was."

Now that the lights are on—

He smacked his lips, as if even his breathing had slowed down, and rubbed his hand vigorously on the old military overcoat before carefully reaching out to touch the smooth guide rail.

The moment he touched it, his whole body felt warm.

"Old Chen, come quick!"

"The wiring! The transmission box! And the tool holder—"

"It's so neat, like it was cut out bit by bit with a ruler; there's not an inch of extra space!"

"Compared to this, those old machines in our workshop are like a bunch of big, clumsy, black donkeys!"

As he spoke, his eyes were practically glued to the aircraft.

"If this were on one of our factory's old lathes, the work speed would at least double!"

"Good stuff... fucking good stuff!"

Old Chen ignored him.

The old man took off his gloves and slowly walked to the spindle machine tool in the middle.

He walked much slower than Wang Daikui, and his face was expressionless.

Those hands, which had been used as fitters for most of their lives, were covered in thick, hard calluses on the base of their thumbs and knuckles, and the backs of their hands were cracked like old tree bark. It felt more like touching a piece of living flesh than looking at it.

He first looked down at the base fixing parts, then felt along the slide rail little by little, and then reached out to grasp a set of handwheels on the side and turned them very lightly half a turn.

"Click, click."

The sound of gears meshing is extremely crisp and precise.

There was no hesitation or slackness whatsoever.

Old Chen's movements suddenly stopped.

The warehouse was very quiet.

Even Wang Daikui remained silent.

Old Chen stood there, staring intently at the blade engagement device. The longer he looked, the more somber his expression became.

After a long while, he slowly withdrew his hand, his voice so low it sounded like it was being forced out from his chest.

"Dakui."

"Stop looking."

Wang Daikui was taken aback and turned to look at him.

"What's wrong?"

Old Chen raised his head, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes were so deep they looked like they were carved by a knife, and even the light in his eyes had dimmed.

"This isn't the kind of thing you can catch up to in our workshop by relying on feel, experience, or just working a few more years."

"This thing—"

He raised his hand and tapped the machine, letting out a muffled laugh.

"They're not on our side at all."

Wang Daikui's enthusiasm faded slightly, and he frowned, saying:

"That's a really discouraging thing to say. No matter how good it is, it's still a machine. And every machine has its own set of rules..."

"Method?"

Old Chen glanced at him and shook his head.

"Take another look."

"It's not just a little faster than us, nor is it just a little more skillful."

"It's a completely different approach from the ground up."

He paused, as if something was stuck in his chest, before continuing after a long while:

"They don't work it out piece by piece, nor do they finish one step and then have the next worker fix it by hand."

"They calculated everything from the very beginning, including all the necessary procedures, the effort that could be saved, and the efficiency that could be improved."

"Our skills, which we're so proud of behind closed doors, are put in front of this thing—"

Old Chen gritted his teeth.

"It's a joke."

The warehouse fell silent.

Wang Daikui stood there with his mouth agape, unable to utter a coherent sentence for a long time.

For veteran workers who have spent their entire lives working with machinery, these words are more painful than being scolded.

Zhao Shanhe stood to the side without saying a word.

Only then did he bend down to stub out the cigarette butt at his feet and look up at the two of them.

"Being far behind is nothing to be ashamed of."

"It would be embarrassing if you couldn't tell."

He took two steps forward, reached out and patted the fuselage, making a dull thud.

"I'll ask you one question now."

"You've seen the machines, touched them, and acknowledged the shortcomings."

"and then?"

The warehouse fell silent for a moment.

Wang Daikui stared at the machine, his chest suddenly bulging as if a fire had been forced up his chest.

He gritted his teeth and cursed.

"What else can we do?"

"Let's go all out!"

As soon as those words were spoken, the oppressive atmosphere in the warehouse seemed to be suddenly released.

But as soon as he finished speaking, the fierce look on Wang Daikui's face slowly faded.

He stared at the cold metallic sheen of the fuselage, his lips twitching as if he had something more to say, but after a long pause, he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Finally, he just let out a heavy sigh.

As soon as he exhaled, most of the heat from before dissipated.

Zhao Shanhe glanced at him.

"What's wrong?"

"You were having a great time just now, why are you suddenly sighing?"

Wang Daikui did not respond immediately.

He subconsciously reached out and touched the cold fuselage again. His eyes were still filled with reluctance, but his expression gradually turned bitter.

After two seconds, he finally spoke in a muffled voice:

"Director Zhao, let me speak from the bottom of my heart, please don't think I'm being spineless."

He paused for a moment, raised his hand and patted the fuselage, his palm lingering on the cold metal.

"But we didn't buy these machines so we could continue manufacturing parts and doing old machining."

"These are for the factory to handle the leather and process fur."

"We've spent our whole lives dealing with iron, and now that we're old, we're really going to have to turn to leather!"

Wang Daikui grinned, but the smile was more like a grimace.

"How could I not feel uneasy?"

"To be honest, when I got into that momentum just now, I really thought I could put up a good fight and close the gap a bit."

"But the thought that this thing isn't going to let us go back to our old ways made me deflate immediately."

As soon as he said that, Old Chen slowly raised his head.

He remained silent, but his heavy eyes clearly conveyed the same meaning.

"Who told you that this batch of machines came into the factory just to completely shut down the machinery business?"

Wang Daikui was taken aback.

Old Chen also frowned and looked at him.

Zhao Shanhe raised his hand and patted the machine next to him. The sound was not loud, but very steady.

"The reason for switching to fur production is to make money first, to get the factory up and running, and to give Hongxing Factory a breather."

"Taking a breather doesn't mean cutting off the lifeline of machinery."

"What did Hongxing Factory rely on to get started? It relied on machinery, and on the foundation that you old masters built by cutting, milling, turning, and grinding."

"No one can throw away this foundation."

As he said this, he looked up at the two of them, his tone gradually becoming more subdued.

"To put it bluntly, the factory is currently crippled on one leg."

"What should we do then?"

"It's not about cutting off the other leg as well."

"We should rely on the one that we can still pull on to keep ourselves going and keep going."

He pointed to the row of machines.

"The fur line was for making money first, to save our lives."

"The machinery line is to support the foundation and backbone of the Red Star Factory."

"Two legs, both must walk together."

"Whichever one can get the most out of us first, we'll use that one."

"As long as the factory survives and recovers, the machinery business will eventually be rebuilt."