Courtyard House: Starting as an eighth-grade worker, with too many wives.

He sighed, looking helpless, as if to say, "I don't want this to happen, but I have no choice: Director Li is capable, I believe he will find a way. Young people are quick-witted and resourceful."

"I do have a way."

Li Jianguo suddenly laughed.

The smile came suddenly, like a thunderbolt in a clear sky, making Yi Zhonghai's heart skip a beat. The smile spread from the corners of his mouth, but didn't reach his eyes; his eyes remained cold.

"It seems Master Yi is determined not to participate." Li Jianguo nodded, as if confirming something. "Since you are unwilling, I will not force you. Since you don't like the work of a fitter, then you shouldn't do it anymore."

What?

Yi Zhonghai was stunned for a moment, his mind went blank.

He stared at Li Jianguo's face, trying to find a flaw in that young face. His gaze swept across Li Jianguo's face like a searchlight, trying to see through every subtle expression.

To act tough.

It must be a show of bravado.

He said those things on purpose because he was afraid of losing face in front of the workers. Young people, you know, are easily embarrassed and can't back down.

She'll definitely have to come begging to him privately. She might even have to go to his door tonight with gifts, saying all sorts of nice things.

Sha Zhu watched from the side, beaming with joy, almost clapping and cheering. He put his hands in his sleeves, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

He was happy to see Li Jianguo make a fool of himself. He'd prefer Li to suffer a huge loss so people could laugh at him.

"Director Li, don't say such hurtful things—" Sha Zhu shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice shrill and bright, like the clanging of a broken gong, "The factory only has this one level eight fitter. If Master Yi quits, where are we going to find another one? You can't possibly do it yourself, can you?"

The people around also became anxious and offered their advice all at once:

"Even if we borrow from another factory, the experienced workers there might not be willing to come! Who wants to move?"

"Director Li, please don't act impulsively! This matter needs careful consideration!"

"Why don't you talk to Master Yi again? It's all for work, what can't be discussed?"

Li Jianguo raised his hand and pressed it down.

The hand pressed down in the air, as if pressing a switch. Everyone fell silent, swallowing all their voices.

He smiled and looked at everyone, his gaze lingering on each person's face for a moment, his voice as calm as if he were saying that the weather was nice today or what the cafeteria was serving: "I'm not acting impulsively."

He paused, his gaze fixed on Yi Zhonghai's face, as if driven in by a nail.

"Master Yi isn't the only one with level eight fitter skills."

He looked away, his tone casual, as if he were talking about something perfectly ordinary: "I can handle this job."

The workshop fell silent instantly, so quiet that you could hear the distant hum of the machine tools and the fluttering of sparrows on the roof.

Then, it was like a pot boiling over—

"What?"

"What?"

"Director Li, this is no joke!"

"The work of an eighth-level fitter is not that simple! It takes decades of experience!"

"Some people never reach level eight in their entire lives. Don't think it's easy! It takes real skill!"

Some shook their heads in disappointment, some pursed their lips, and some whispered among themselves.

He is indeed an engineer, and he is also educated.

But that's too ambitious and impractical.

Do you really think that anyone can do technical work?

If it were that simple, there wouldn't be so many masters training apprentices, and so many people wouldn't spend their entire lives failing to reach the eighth-grade fitter level. How much hard work would it take? How much sweat would be shed? How many layers of skin would be worn through?

Li Jianguo remained unmoved, like a statue, despite the undisguised distrust on the faces of those around him.

He took two steps forward and stood in the center of the crowd. The people around him automatically stepped back, making room for him.

"I wasn't saying that out of anger." His voice wasn't loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake. "And I don't think too highly of myself. If you don't believe me, I'll show you."

It's truly incredible that someone his age could possess the skills of an eighth-level fitter.

It's like saying a toddler who has just learned to walk can beat a 100-meter champion.

But he doesn't need an explanation.

All you need to do is...

The way people looked at him changed.

From doubt, it turned into curiosity, and then into anticipation. Some people's eyes gleamed, some licked their lips, and some leaned forward.

"Walk."

Li Jianguo lifted his foot and walked towards the workshop. His steps were not fast, but steady and resonant, like stepping on the beat of a drum.

"Let's go to the workshop and I'll show everyone what I've got."

A large group of people followed behind him, their footsteps clattering like a surging tide.

Yi Zhonghai stood there stunned for a few seconds, then followed along as if possessed.

He walked at the back of the crowd, his mind a jumbled mess, like a tangled mess.

real or fake?

Can he really do it?

impossible.

It is absolutely impossible.

He recalled his youth, learning the craft from his master. In the dead of winter, the workshop was as cold as an icebox. His hands would crack and bleed, yet he would grit his teeth and stand before the workbench, filing parts again and again. The file was icy cold, holding it felt like holding a block of ice. When his hands became numb, he would breathe on them, rub them, and then continue working.

My whole life has been spent dealing with parts every day, from morning till night, from spring to winter. I've studied diligently and worked like an ox for decades to develop the skills I have today.

A young man like him probably hasn't even touched a mechanical part more than a few times in his life. How to hold a file, how to use calipers, how to control the force—how can you learn that from a book?

What right does he have to claim that he has the same skills as someone with decades of experience?

Inside the workshop, the lights were blazing. All the lights on the roof were on, illuminating every corner, making even the iron filings on the ground clearly visible.

Li Jianguo walked to the workbench and casually picked up a piece from the parts basket next to him.

It's just a rough, unfinished part with a rough surface and large data deviations; it's obviously a defective product. Most people wouldn't even give that part a second glance.

He secured the parts and picked up his tools.

Everyone was staring at his hands.

Those pairs of eyes, like lamps, all shone on his hands.

Then--

He moved.

First time.

As the file is pushed forward, steel shavings are swirled up, fine and even, like wood shavings.

The second time.

His gestures were as steady as a machine, and every movement was precise and accurate.

With each stroke, his fingers would brush across the surface of the part, his fingertips touching the metal, gently rubbing to check the precision. His movements were quick and precise, like an experienced traditional Chinese medicine doctor taking a pulse, able to pinpoint the problem with a single touch.

The speed is getting faster and faster.

It was so fast it was dazzling. His hands seemed to have a life of their own, dancing across the parts. The tools in his hands were as obedient as extended fingers, hitting exactly where they were pointed, without hesitation.

The layman looks at the excitement and the insider looks at the doorway.

Yi Zhonghai's expression changed from nonchalant at first, to astonishment, and then to an incredulous paleness.

His eyes widened, almost popping out of their sockets. His mouth was slightly open, but he couldn't make a sound, like a fish out of water.

That gesture.

That technique.

That's the action of checking accuracy.

And that effortless rhythm—

Every detail felt like a heavy hammer blow to his heart.

No.

impossible.

That's absolutely impossible!

"Master Yi, why do you say that?"

Someone nearby noticed his expression and couldn't help but whisper, "Is Director Li's cooking particularly good? You don't look well."

Yi Zhonghai did not answer.

His lips trembled, like leaves rustling in the wind.

After a short while, Li Jianguo stopped.

He took the part off the table and casually tossed it to the quality inspector next to him. The part arced through the air and landed in the quality inspector's hand.

"Check it out."

The quality inspector took the part and picked up the measuring tool. It was a precision caliper, capable of measuring errors as fine as a hair.

The workshop was so quiet you could hear your own heartbeat. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the result.

The quality inspector's hand paused.

He looked up, his face filled with undisguised shock. His expression was as if he had seen a ghost, his eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

"Pass." His voice was slightly shaky, as if it came from a very far place. "Completely pass."

The workshop instantly erupted in excitement.

"Oh My God!"

"Is there anything Director Li can't do?!"

"Director Li, at your age, you have such skills—and you're an engineer! How are we old folks supposed to survive?"

"This is true genius! How can someone like this exist?"

Several experienced craftsmen, refusing to believe it, snatched the parts from the quality inspector and examined them closely under the light. Some held the parts up to their eyes, squinting as they examined them; others carefully felt the parts with their fingers, their fingertips tracing every edge; still others turned the parts over and over, shining them up to the light.

One person reads it and then passes it on to the other.

"Why do I feel... this is even better than Master Yi's? Look at the smoothness, the precision—"

"Let me see it—"

He took the part and carefully felt it with his fingers, from one end to the other. Then he looked up, his eyes filled with complex emotions, as if a bottle of mixed feelings had been spilled.

"That's true. Director Li is even faster than Master Yi, and his precision is just as good. Look at this chamfer, this flatness—"

Li Jianguo stood in the middle of the crowd, listening to everyone's praise, and smiled modestly. His smile was just right, neither ostentatious nor timid.

Only he knew the secret smugness he felt inside.

He's a master fitter.

Surpassing Yi Zhonghai?

easy.

"The first batch doesn't need many parts." He clapped his hands, put the tools back in their place, and the tools landed on the table with a crisp sound. "I can handle this. After improving the production process, the master craftsman won't need to work so hard."

The words, spoken so casually by Li Jianguo, sounded so natural, as if he were simply discussing what to eat for dinner.

The crowd's gaze shifted from initial curiosity to surprise, and then to awe.

His gaze shifted layer by layer, like waves of tide surging in.

Yi Zhonghai stood at the edge of the crowd, completely motionless, as if struck by lightning.

He became an eighth-grade fitter.

This is an achievement he attained after a lifetime of hard work.

How can a young person do that?

Is it really that simple?

He even began to doubt himself.

I wonder if I've wasted these past few decades. All those grueling training sessions in the dead of winter, those chapped hands, all that sweat, all that abrasion—was it all for nothing?

"This can't be real..."

He muttered to himself, his voice hoarse and unlike his own. The sound was squeezed out of his throat, like a broken bellows.

"A young man... how long has he been handling a file... how is that possible..."

He staggered forward and snatched the part from the person next to him. The movement was swift and violent, like a drowning person grabbing at a straw.

He looked at it over and over again.

Touch it with your finger.

Shine it up to the light.

Every single detail.

Every size.

Finally, he had to admit—

Li Jianguo's skills have indeed reached level eight.

Even faster than him.

They did a better job than him.

The blow left him stunned for a long time. He stood there, like a wooden stake, the color draining from his face bit by bit.

Suddenly, a series of hurried footsteps came from the workshop entrance.

Factory Director Yang rushed in, panting heavily, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. He had run so fast that his chest heaved as he breathed heavily.

"What's going on? What happened again?"

He had just heard that Li Jianguo and Yi Zhonghai had clashed again, so he rushed over without stopping. His heart was pounding the whole way, fearing something terrible might happen.

Li Jianguo is my precious darling.

The newly developed aluminum alloy material made him the focus of attention among his superiors. When those leaders held meetings, they specifically mentioned the project and the name Li Jianguo, which made him proud.