Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

Chapter 62 Turning Around

"Chengzi, do you think hanging this sign out will be effective?" Huang Deqing asked.

"Whether it works or not doesn't depend on the brand, but on what we do," Jiang Cheng said, taking out his keys and opening the door.

Three rooms, not big, but enough. One for offices, one for meeting rooms, and one for a laboratory. The walls were freshly painted, blindingly white, and the air still smelled of lime, mixed with the odors of turpentine and tung oil. The floor was cement, swept very clean, but had a few cracks, like a dried-up riverbed.

The window faces south, and the sunlight shines in, warming the empty tables and chairs.

Jiang Cheng placed the documents he brought back from Beijing on the table and began writing a work plan. Huang Deqing squatted on the ground, tapping here and there with a small hammer to check the sturdiness of the walls.

"Sir, please stop knocking, or the building will collapse."

"It won't collapse." Huang Deqing didn't even look up. "This building was built in 1958; it's sturdier than yours."

Jiang Cheng smiled and continued writing.

The work plan took two whole days to write. He divided the work of the promotion center into three parts: the first part was technical training, which was to teach the workers in various factories practical methods such as coating and plating techniques; the second part was on-site guidance, which involved sending people to the site of any factory that had problems that it could not solve; and the third part was technology research and development, which involved continuously improving existing technologies and researching new methods.

After finishing writing, he showed it to Huang Deqing. Huang Deqing looked at it for a long time and said, "It's well written. It's just that we don't have enough people."

"We don't have enough people, so we'll hire more."

"Who should we hire?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment: "Let's borrow some from other factories first. Sun Deming is one, and that old technician from the mining factory is another. If that's not enough, we can borrow a few from our factory's technical innovation team."

Huang Deqing nodded: "Okay. I'll go talk to them."

For the next two weeks, Jiang Cheng traveled to various factories in Shenyang to recruit people. He wanted to borrow one key technical staff member from each factory to work at the promotion center for six months. After six months, these people would return to their original factories and become seeds to spread the technology.

This idea is simple to say, but difficult to implement. Every factory has its own production tasks; who would be willing to lend out their key technical personnel?

The first factory we visited was Shenyang Heavy Machinery Factory. Factory Director Zhao readily agreed: "Sure, we'll lend it to you! But on one condition—you have to train a group of workers for us and teach them coating and plating techniques."

"No problem," Jiang Cheng said.

The second factory we visited was Shenyang Mining Machinery Factory. Factory Director Sun was even more straightforward: "You can pick anyone you want! But regarding the ball mill, you need to write us a detailed operating procedure so we don't run into problems later and not be unable to repair it."

"Leave it to me."

The third one he went to was Ansteel. Li Jianguo came to pick him up personally, and punched him as soon as they met: "Brother, you've finally come! Our factory director said we can lend you the man, but you have to come and give us three days of lectures."

Jiang Cheng clutched his chest: "Three days it is."

Along the way, the team was finally assembled. Sun Deming, Zhao, an old technician from the mining plant, Liu, a young engineer from Ansteel, and three key members from the Hongxing Plant's technical innovation team—six people in total. Adding Jiang Cheng and Huang Deqing, eight people in total, the team was finally formed.

Once everyone was present, Jiang Cheng convened the first plenary meeting. Inside the meeting room, eight people sat around a long table, on which sat several enamel mugs filled with freshly brewed tea, steam rising gently. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating everyone's faces.

"Everyone," Jiang Cheng stood up, "from today onwards, we are family. I won't mince words, I'll just say three things."

He held up three fingers: "First, we're here to work, not to sit in offices. If any factory has a problem they can't solve, we need to be able to step in."

Sun Deming raised his hand: "Brother Jiang, what if we can't solve this?"

"If you can't solve it, try to solve it. If you still can't solve it, admit that you can't solve it, but you need to figure out the problem and tell people why you can't solve it."

Several people nodded.

"Secondly," Jiang Cheng said, "we're here to teach people, not to steal their jobs. Fixing one machine isn't a skill; teaching a worker how to fix a machine is."

Old Zhao interjected, "Master Jiang, what if you teach your apprentice and then starve to death?"

Jiang Cheng laughed: "Old Zhao, you're wrong. In our line of work, the more apprentices you have, the more valuable the master becomes. Think about it, there are tens of thousands of old machines across the country. Can you repair them all by yourself? You need to teach more people how to repair them. Once they can repair them, your skills will gain a reputation. With a reputation, you won't have to worry about not having food to eat."

Old Zhao thought for a moment and nodded.

"Third," Jiang Cheng held up his third finger, "we're here to build something, not to just coast along. The country has provided funding, staffing, and policy support for this center. If we don't achieve something significant, we'll be letting down the country and ourselves."

He glanced around at everyone present and said, "I've finished speaking. Anyone with opinions or ideas can speak up."

Nobody objected.

"Then let's get to work."

The day after the meeting, the promotion center received its first task.

The task was directly assigned by the Ministry of Aviation Industry—a repair experiment on the landing gear struts of the J-8 fighter jet. Chief Engineer Zhao called personally, his tone urgent: "Comrade Jiang Cheng, we have three scrapped landing gear struts here, which have already been delivered to Shenyang. You need to come up with a repair plan as soon as possible. Just tell us what resources you need."

Jiang Cheng hung up the phone and stood by the window for a while, thinking. Landing gear struts are one of the most critical safety components of an aircraft, with extremely high requirements. A single strut must withstand impact loads of tens of tons and remain fatigue-free after thousands of takeoffs and landings. Although coating technology has been proven on ordinary equipment, this is the first time it has been used on aerospace components.

"Master," he said, turning to Huang Deqing, "we've got a job."

Huang Deqing was wiping his scraper, not even looking up: "What job?"

"Aircraft landing gear."

Huang Deqing paused, then looked up at him: "An airplane?"

"Yes. The landing gear struts of the J-8."

Huang Deqing put down his scraper, stood up, walked to the window, and looked out. Several poplar trees stood in the courtyard, their leaves rustling in the wind. In the distance was the playground of Shenyang Industrial College, where several students were running, kicking up clouds of dust.

"Chengzi," he said, "this job is not easy."

"I know."

"This could be a serious problem."

"I know."

Huang Deqing turned around and looked at him: "So you still want to do it?"

Jiang Cheng nodded: "Let's do it. But we have to take it one step at a time. First, we'll use the scrapped machines for experiments, conduct destructive tests, and get the data. Once the data is satisfactory, then we can move on to the actual machines."

On the day the landing gear struts were delivered, Jiang Cheng led the entire center to pick them up. The freight truck stopped at the gate, and two workers unloaded a long wooden crate from the truck. They pried it open, and inside lay three silver-white metal struts. To withstand the heavy load, each one was as thick as an arm and more than a meter long, with an extremely smooth surface that could reflect a person's image.