Courtyard House: Initial Donation of 50 Million

The night passed uneventfully, save for the chilly spring breeze whistling outside the window. Wang Jinshi lay on his earthen bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. The reed mat beneath him seemed to still carry the faint vibrations of the diesel engine from the daytime, and the "putt-putt" roar seemed to still echo in his ears. In the courtyard, the red "little steel cannon" lay quietly in the moonlight, like a resting steel behemoth, awaiting the call of dawn. Its arrival was more than just a machine; it was like a pebble thrown into a calm pond, creating ripples throughout Wangjiazhuang and the entire Hongxing Commune. These ripples concerned the land, the labor, and even more so, the production methods passed down for thousands of years and people's imagination of the future.

As dawn broke, Wang Jinshi jumped out of bed. His mother was already busy in the kitchen, the aroma of crispy cornbread mingling with the warmth of millet porridge filling the room. His father, Wang Yuanshan, squatted on the doorstep, puffing on his pipe, his brow furrowed in the swirling smoke, seemingly contemplating the day's spring plowing arrangements. Seeing his son emerge, he tapped his pipe: "Awake? Eat quickly. After you eat, go get the ox ready, fill the tank, and check the water. Those three hundred mu in Dongdawa are a tough nut to crack today; it'll depend on your and Xiaogangpao's abilities. I've arranged all the strong laborers from the second and third teams; they'll work with you. Those who need to lead the livestock, those who need to level the fields, level the edges."

"Dad, don't worry!" Wang Jinshi slurped down two bowls of piping hot millet porridge with some pickled vegetables, grabbed a cornbread, and headed outside. "I promise I'll level the land completely!"

A large crowd had already gathered at the threshing ground. Besides those who came to watch the excitement yesterday, today there were mostly laborers from various production teams who had come to assist with the tractor work. There were experienced workers leading oxen and horses and carrying plows and harrows, as well as young and strong men carrying iron shovels and rakes to level the edges of the fields. Director Zhang and his team from the Beijing Film Studio had also set up their equipment early, ready to record the "little cannon" officially starting its first plowing of spring planting.

Wang Jinshi inspected the tractor with the same care he would give his closest comrade-in-arms. Oil dipstick, water tank, tire pressure, all the screws… his movements were practiced and focused. Then, he jumped into the driver's seat and turned the key. With a brisk start-up whistle, the diesel engine revved up with a deep, powerful roar, once again breaking the morning tranquility of the village. This sound, today, carried less novelty and more a heavy weight of expectation and responsibility.

"Let's go!" Wang Yuanshan waved his hand.

A red tractor, pulling a gleaming three-furrow plow, sailed out of the threshing ground like a red ship, heading along the village road towards the vast fields beyond the village. Following behind were villagers leading livestock and carrying farm tools, as well as staff from the Beijing Film Studio. The procession wasn't perfectly orderly, but it exuded a vibrant energy. Early-rising villagers stood by the roadside, silently watching this peculiar procession with complex expressions. An old man murmured, "These iron contraptions, can they really do anything?"

Dongdawa is the largest contiguous area of ​​land in Wangjiazhuang. The soil is sticky and was plowed in the autumn last year, but after a winter of freezing and thawing, the ground became severely hardened. As the old hands would say, "It's so hard it could break the tip of a plowshare." In the past, this was the most laborious plot of land for spring plowing, often requiring the best livestock and the strongest laborers to repeatedly plow and harrow before sowing could begin.

Wang Jinshi drove the tractor to the edge of the field but didn't immediately start plowing. He jumped off the tractor and, together with several experienced farmers, squatted down, grabbed a handful of soil, rubbed it between his fingers, and then examined the soil moisture and direction. "Shitou, this soil is hard. Leave some space where it bends, so the plow doesn't get stuck," an experienced farmer surnamed Zhao advised.

"Understood, Uncle Zhao." Wang Jinshi nodded, having figured things out. He adjusted the plow's angle and depth, then got back on the tractor. The diesel engine roared, and the tractor steadily moved forward. The three sharp plowshares, like a hot knife through butter, cut deeply and cleanly into the compacted soil!

"Swoosh—rip—" The sound of the soil being torn and turned was deep and powerful. Dark brown, damp clods of earth were neatly turned to one side, forming straight, deep furrows. The tractor moved at a steady, even speed, much faster than the animal-drawn plows pulled by the people nearby. Moreover, the plowing depth far exceeded that of an animal plow. Each stroke covered nearly a meter wide and more than a foot deep!

"Good!" A cheer erupted from the villagers watching from the edge of the field. Several experienced farmers quickly walked to the edge of the newly plowed ditch, squatted down, and began to scoop up the turned-up soil with their hands, their faces showing disbelief and joy. "Incredible! Incredible! This depth, this even and thorough work! Even livestock couldn't plow this deep!"

"Look at this soil, it's all been turned over, the grass roots and stubble are all at the bottom. After drying in the sun for a few days, it will break up easily with a rake, which will also help retain moisture!"

"This speed... my God, this trip is equivalent to half a day's work for me!"

Wang Jinshi was fully focused, his hands firmly on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on the field ridges ahead, occasionally checking the plow's progress through the rearview mirror. When turning at the edge of the field, he slowed down in advance, carefully maneuvered the hydraulic lever to raise the plowshare, smoothly turned, and then lowered it to begin a new pass. Although his movements were still somewhat clumsy, they were already quite skillful.

Director Zhang directed the cameraman, the lens closely following the red tractor. From the distant view of the vast fields, to the close-up of the plow breaking through the soil, and then to the close-up—Wang Jinshi's focused and confident profile, the amazed and admiring expressions of the commune members, the fertile black soil being turned over... These images will be permanently captured on film, becoming a precious microcosm of that fiery era and the moment when agricultural reform began.

"Stop! Great! That shot is fantastic!" Director Zhang waved excitedly. "Comrade Xiao Wang, hold on like that! Let's do two more takes; we need to shoot from several different angles!"

As the sun rose higher, the temperature climbed. Fine beads of sweat appeared on Wang Jinshi's forehead, but he was oblivious. The roar of the diesel engine, the sound of the plow breaking the soil, and the exclamations of the commune members blended into a unique and powerful symphony of labor. He felt an unprecedented sense of accomplishment. This was not simply driving machines; it was cultivating hope with the power of steel, writing a new chapter in agriculture, different from that of his fathers.

In one morning, nearly fifty acres of land were plowed. The deeply tilled soil, under the sunlight, exuded the unique fragrance of earth, soft and flat. The same amount of work, if done with traditional oxen, would require at least a dozen strong oxen and the same amount of labor, working for two whole days, and still might not achieve the same depth and quality.

During the midday break, the commune members sat around the edge of the field, munching on the dry rations they had brought. Wang Jinshi also stopped the tractor, carefully inspected the machine, and added some water. People from the Beijing Film Studio came over and handed him a military water bottle. "Comrade Wang, you've worked hard! Have some water. Your skills are really good! You drive so smoothly and well!"

Wang Jinshi smiled憨厚ly, took the water bottle and took a sip: "At the factory, the master taught me strictly and I practiced a lot. This machine is a treasure, but it's also delicate. You have to understand it and cherish it for it to work hard for you."

"Well said!" Director Zhang nodded approvingly. "Machines are inanimate, but people are alive. Having good machines isn't enough; you also need good operators and people who understand scientific farming. This is what Chairman Mao meant when he said, 'The fundamental way out for agriculture lies in mechanization,' and the prerequisite for mechanization is collectivization and communization. Your Red Star Commune is leading the way!"

In the afternoon, the work continued. With the experience gained in the morning, the teamwork was even smoother. Wang Jinshi was responsible for cultivating the large central area, while the edges, corners, and other areas where tractors couldn't easily reach were plowed and leveled by the villagers using livestock and manpower. This combination of manpower and machinery greatly increased efficiency. What used to take ten days to half a month for spring plowing could now be completed in three or four days at this pace!

The news spread like wildfire, reaching every village in the Red Star Commune. Cadres and activists from Lijiawa, Zhangjiatun, and Liujiabao flocked to Wangjiazhuang to learn from their experience. Seeing the massive machine roaring and surging across the fields, seeing the deeply plowed and leveled land, they were all filled with envy. They surrounded Wang Jinshi and Wang Yuanshan, bombarding them with questions.

"Captain Wang, can this tractor really plow dozens of acres a day?"

"Stone, are you eager to learn? How about letting the young men in our village learn from you?"

"Secretary Wang, when can our commune be equipped with a few more? Even if we can use them in rotation, that would be great!"

Wang Yuanshan, Chen Youwang, Li Youtian, and several other commune cadres felt both happy and pressured. They were happy because the power of this "little cannon" was undeniable, and the superiority of collectivization was tangible. Some previously resistant members had now fallen silent, even urging the brigade to allocate tractors to their villages for plowing. The pressure stemmed from the fact that with only five tractors (one in Wangjiazhuang) covering thousands of acres across five villages in the entire commune, it was far from enough. Moreover, the number of people who knew how to drive and repair them was even smaller.

"Don't rush, everyone!" Chen Youwang stood at the edge of the field and loudly addressed the other village cadres and commune members who had come to visit. "The higher authorities will gradually distribute tractors. But more importantly, we ourselves must be prepared! The land must be connected into contiguous plots, small plots merged into larger ones, the field ridges leveled where needed, and the irrigation ditches repaired where necessary, to adapt to machine operation! Young people in each village must actively study culture and technology! The commune has already planned that after spring plowing, we will select a group of educated and ideologically sound young people to send to the Hongxing Factory for training! We need our own tractor drivers and our own technicians! When we have more tractors, our talent pool must keep up!"

These words resonated deeply with everyone. Watching Wang Jinshi skillfully drive the tractor, a spark of desire ignited in the eyes of many young men. Driving a tractor, learning the technology, becoming a skilled farmer like a factory worker—this was far more appealing than toiling in the fields, spending a lifetime dealing with livestock!

Over the next few days, spring plowing in Wangjiazhuang was in full swing. Wang Jinshi and his "little steel cannon" became the absolute protagonists. From Dongdawa to Xipodi, from Nanhewan to Beigangzi, the red figure and the "putt-putt" roar echoed across the fields surrounding the village. Deep plowing, harrowing, sowing (a seed drill was used for demonstration; actual large-scale sowing was still mainly done manually and by animal power, but the tractor led the way, which greatly improved efficiency)... The previously long and tiring spring plowing became compact and rhythmic with the addition of this steel beast.

Wang Jinshi quickly earned the respect of the entire village and even the whole commune. Before, he was Wang Yuanshan's son, a young man who had gone to the city to learn a trade. Now, he was "Master Wang," a skilled technician who could operate the "iron ox." When the village elders saw him, they would give him a thumbs up: "Shitou, you've made something of yourself!" His peers would surround him, asking him all sorts of questions, their eyes full of envy. Even the girls who had initially been somewhat interested in him but disliked his "ambition to become a worker in the city" now looked at him with a sparkle in their eyes.

Xu Damao stayed in Wangjiazhuang for three days. Besides showing a movie on the first night, he also screened films on the second and third nights at the request of the villagers, at the threshing ground. In addition to the film he brought, there was another feature film depicting the workers' vigorous efforts in agricultural development and technological innovation. Before each screening, he would combine the scenes of tractors plowing the fields that he had witnessed during the day with a passionate and engaging explanation of the benefits of collectivization and the prospects of agricultural mechanization. He also took time to use his own camera (a rare item) to take many photos of Wang Jinshi driving the tractor and the villagers working enthusiastically, saying he wanted to keep them as "propaganda materials."

On the afternoon of the third day, Xu Damao found Wang Jinshi resting in the field and handed him a "Daqianmen" cigarette. "Shishi, have one to relax."

Wang Jinshi waved his hand: "Thank you, Master Xu, but I won't."

Xu Damao lit his own, took a deep drag, and looked at the roaring tractors and busy crowds in the distance. He sighed, "Stone, tell me, isn't life really different now? I've been showing movies for so many years, traveling all over the country, and I've seen many rural areas. But I've rarely seen anything like here, with machines in the fields, the commune coordinating everything, and everyone so united."

Wang Jinshi wiped his sweat with a towel and said earnestly, "It's different now. Before, each household was independent, and we couldn't work together. Even if we had good methods, we couldn't get things done. Now, look at this vast land, machines can operate freely. We can build irrigation ditches, buy fertilizer, and grow improved seeds all in a coordinated manner. Even though it's tiring, we feel hopeful and have something to look forward to."

"It's good that you have something to look forward to!" Xu Damao patted him on the shoulder. "If you do a good job driving this tractor well, you'll have made a great contribution to the collectivization! When you have a bumper harvest and the grain is piled up like mountains, I'll come and show a movie, a celebratory movie!"

He lowered his voice again, with a hint of mystery and longing: "Stone, does your factory make motorcycles? I heard they're really cool! A hundred times better than bicycles!"

Wang Jinshi nodded: "Yes, I heard our Engineer Wang... oh, I mean Chief Consultant Wang Huanbo mention that there is such a project, and it seems they even got hold of some good foreign blueprints. But that's classified, so I don't know the specifics."

"Tsk tsk, a motorcycle..." Xu Damao squinted, as if he could already see himself riding a gleaming motorcycle, speeding along country dirt roads, towing projection equipment behind him, attracting the stares of passersby. Then he thought of Sha Zhu's beat-up bicycle, and a smirk crept onto his face. "Once this is done, I'm definitely going to apply for one! Riding it to the countryside to show movies, that would be so cool! Let's see who dares to look down on us projectionists then!"

Wang Jinshi smiled but didn't respond. He thought that Master Xu was a bit of a show-off, but he wasn't a bad person and worked hard.

Three days later, Xu Damao completed his screening and promotional duties in Wangjiazhuang and prepared to move on to other villages in Hongxing Commune. Wang Jinshi drove his "little steel cannon" to the commune headquarters, where trucks from other villages were waiting to pick him up. Before leaving, Xu Damao tightly grasped Wang Jinshi's hand: "Brother Shitou, thank you so much for taking care of me these past few days! You've done a great job here, I'll definitely report back to the leaders! When you achieve a bumper harvest with this iron ox, I, Xu Damao, will come back! With even better films!"

"Have a safe trip, Master Xu! Welcome to visit anytime!" Wang Jinshi waved with a simple and honest smile.

After seeing Xu Damao off, Wang Jinshi didn't immediately return to the village. The commune secretary, Chen Youwang, called him to his office for a small meeting with him and several other tractor drivers from various villages. Secretary Chen praised Wang Jinshi's performance over the past few days and asked him to summarize his operating and maintenance experience. He planned to organize a training course in the commune when spring plowing was less busy, inviting tractor drivers from other villages and young people preparing to learn to drive tractors to attend.

"Shitou, you are not only a tractor driver in our Wangjiazhuang, but also the seed of mechanization in our Hongxing Commune! You must pass on your skills and train more 'Iron Ox Drivers' like you!" Chen Youwang said earnestly.

"Secretary Chen, don't worry! I will definitely teach everyone everything I know!" Wang Jinshi felt the burden on his shoulders was heavier, but his heart was also full of strength.

A few days later, Beijing, Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill.

Xu Damao returned to the factory, travel-worn and exhausted. Without even going back to his dormitory to change, he went first to the propaganda department to report on his work. He embellished his account of what he had seen and heard in Wangjiazhuang, particularly how the "Little Cannon" tractor had demonstrated its power, how enthusiastically the commune members had welcomed him, and how the Beijing Film Studio had filmed a propaganda movie. He highlighted how he had used the opportunity of showing the film to vividly and effectively promote the commune policy, which received unanimous praise from the commune members and the director from the Beijing Film Studio.

The propaganda chief was very satisfied and praised him for completing the task excellently, demonstrating the awareness and competence of the workers at the Red Star Factory. He told him to go back and rest well and write a detailed report.

Xu Damao returned to the No. 95 compound with a smug look on his face. As soon as he entered the front yard, he saw Sha Zhu (He Yuzhu) squatting at his doorway, diligently polishing his beloved "Forever" brand bicycle in the dim light. The bicycle gleamed; the chain, spokes, and handlebars all shone. Hearing footsteps, Sha Zhu looked up and saw Xu Damao. He immediately grinned, revealing his signature, slightly foolish but now smug smile.

"Hey! Isn't this our projectionist Xu? Back from going to the countryside to spread the Party's policies? You've worked hard!" Sha Zhu stood up, holding a tattered cloth in his hand, and deliberately rang his bicycle bell loudly. "How was it? The country roads were tough, weren't they? Did they break your wheels? Look at my 'Forever' bicycle, freshly waxed, isn't it shiny?"

Seeing Sha Zhu's smug look, Xu Damao's competitive spirit flared up. He deliberately puffed out his chest, patted off non-existent dust, and said in a condescending tone, "Hey Sha Zhu, your beat-up bicycle can only get you around on the city's asphalt roads. Do you know what I rode on this trip to the countryside?"

"What are you sitting in? It can't be a sedan chair, can it?" Sha Zhu sneered.

"Riding in a sedan chair? That's so outdated!" Xu Damao raised his chin, pointed his thumb behind him, and although there was nothing behind him, he exuded an air of authority. "I'm riding in our factory's brand-new 'Red Star Little Cannon' tractor! It even has a special trailer! That thing, four big wheels, a diesel engine, 'putt-putt-putt,' it's incredibly powerful! No matter the bumps or muddy roads, it's like treading on flat ground! All my projection equipment is stored in the trailer, it's safe and secure! Unlike you, riding a beat-up bicycle, having to carry your equipment yourself, going over mountains and valleys, working like a grandson!"

Sha Zhu was taken aback. A tractor? He had heard that the factory produced tractors, but he never expected Xu Damao to actually ride one on this trip to the countryside. He retorted stubbornly, "What's so great about a tractor? It burns gas and smells terrible! It's nowhere near as convenient as my bicycle; I can stop it wherever I want!"

"Lightweight? You haven't seen it!" Xu Damao got even more excited and began to describe it at length, "Those tractors can not only carry people and goods, but more importantly, they can plow the land! You didn't see it, in Wangjiazhuang, that big guy dragging a plow, plowing so deep and so wide in one go! It's equivalent to dozens of oxen! The land was turned so flat and even! The villagers were all dumbfounded! The commune secretary said, this is the power of agricultural mechanization, this is the superiority of the commune system! The directors from the Beijing Film Studio were carrying their equipment there to film it, saying they wanted to show it to the whole country!"

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of mystery and boastfulness, "Silly Zhu, do you know what? This tractor is just the beginning! Our factory is working on something even more amazing—motorcycles! I heard they even got high-end blueprints from abroad, a hundred times more impressive than bicycles! Once it's finished, we projectionists will apply for motorcycles when we go to the countryside, the sidecar kind! Riding in front and carrying the equipment in the trailer, that'll be so impressive! Unlike you, you just have a beat-up bicycle, and you still have the nerve to polish it every day!"

"A motorcycle?" Sha Zhu's eyes widened. He was a cook and didn't know much about machines, but he had heard of motorcycles. They made a "putt-putt" sound when they ran, and were much faster and cooler than bicycles. If Xu Damao really rode one of those things... Sha Zhu felt a little uneasy. He felt that his bicycle, which he had been showing off for just a few days, suddenly didn't seem so appealing anymore.

But he wouldn't admit defeat: "Tch! You're just bragging! Motorcycles aren't that easy to build. You think I'd supply you with one? Dream on! You think you're the factory manager? You try riding one back and see for yourself!"

"Hey! You think you can just ignore me!" Xu Damao was enraged. "Just you wait! Once the factory finishes making them, I'll ride one back and circle around you three times! I'll show you what modernity is all about! Your beat-up bicycle will just be heading to the junkyard then!"

"You're talking nonsense! My 'Forever' is a brand name! It's sturdy! It won't break even after ten years of riding!" Sha Zhu retorted.

"What's the use of brand names? Two wheels can't compare to three or four wheels! Gas-powered vehicles are just more powerful than those pedaled by a person!" Xu Damao said, hands on his hips.

"Xu Damao, are you looking for a beating?" Sha Zhu raised the rag he used to wipe the car.

"What? You want to fight just because you can't win an argument? You brute!" Xu Damao quickly took a step back, but his words were still sharp.

The two men's argument attracted the attention of other people in the courtyard. An elderly man named Yi Zhonghai came out of the house, frowning, and said, "Zhuzi, Damao, what's all this arguing about as soon as you get back? We're all workers, we need to be more united!"

"Grandpa, you be the judge!" Xu Damao interjected, "I said our factory's tractors are good, and the motorcycles are even better—it's progress! He insists his beat-up bicycle is better and even threatened to hit me!"

"Who hit you? You're the one who's being cheeky!" Sha Zhu retorted.

"Alright, alright!" Yi Zhonghai waved his hand. "Tractors and motorcycles are things the country needs for construction; they're good things. Bicycles are good things too, convenient for the people. What's there to argue about? Da Mao, you just got back, you must be tired, say less. Zhu Zi, go back inside after you're done wiping the car, you have work tomorrow!"

The two reluctantly gave up, glared at each other, and went back to their rooms. But after this argument, Xu Damao's desire to get a motorcycle grew wildly in his mind like weeds. He planned to find out more about the progress of the factory's motorcycle project, and then find an opportunity to impress the leaders, preferably by making some contributions, so that he would have more confidence when applying for a motorcycle.

Back inside, Sha Zhu looked at his gleaming bicycle and suddenly felt less excited. Xu Damao's words about the motorcycle were like a thorn in his side. "A motorcycle...is it really that cool? How does it compare to Deputy Factory Director Li's jeep?" he thought sullenly, feeling even the cornbread in his hand lose its flavor.

A few days later, at the Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, in the office of Deputy Director Li Huaide.

Xu Damao respectfully placed his meticulously written report on the rural film screenings, along with several photos he had taken in Wangjiazhuang (which had been developed), on Li Huaide's desk.

"Director Li, this is my work report from Wangjiazhuang, Hongxing Commune. Please review it." Xu Damao stood ramrod straight, his face displaying just the right amount of respect and a hint of pride after completing his mission.

Li Huaide picked up the report and skimmed through it. The report was well-written, clearly organized, and highlighted the key points. It discussed the film screening itself, but more importantly, it described the significant role the "little cannon" tractor played in spring plowing, the farmers' enthusiastic support for collectivization and mechanization, and even mentioned the Beijing Film Studio's production of a propaganda film. Although the photographs were of average quality, they were very vivid, depicting scenes of tractors plowing the fields, commune members watching, and the film screening.

"Hmm, not bad. Damao, you did a great job on this mission." Li Huaide nodded, put down the report, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Xu Damao. "Especially the idea of ​​combining on-site publicity—that was excellent. The comrades from the Beijing Film Studio also affirmed your work. This shows that your work is creative and proactive."

Xu Damao was overjoyed to receive praise from the deputy factory director, but he still tried to remain humble: "It's all thanks to the leadership's excellent command and the factory's strong support. I just did my job according to the instructions from my superiors."

"Hmm," Li Huaide changed the subject, "In the report, you mentioned an idea that equipping projectionists in rural areas with motorcycles would greatly improve work efficiency and propaganda effectiveness?"

Xu Damao's heart tightened; he knew the crucial moment had arrived. He immediately straightened his back and said more earnestly, "Yes, Director Li! This is just my own immature thought. I have a deep understanding of this from my trip to the countryside. Our factory's 'Little Cannon' tractor is good, but it mainly serves agricultural production. It's inconvenient for us projectionists to borrow it, and not every village has one. Now, when we go to the countryside to show movies, we mainly rely on bicycles to carry the equipment or hitchhiking. When the roads are bad or the distance is long, it's very hard work and inefficient. We rarely get to go to many remote places, maybe once a year."

He observed Li Huaide's expression and, seeing that the other was listening attentively, continued his impassioned speech: "If our factory could produce motorcycles, especially the kind with sidecars, which can carry both people and equipment, have good maneuverability, and be fast, it would be like adding wings to a tiger for us projectionists! We could go to the countryside more frequently, to more remote places, bringing movies and the Party's policies to the fields and to the doorsteps of ordinary people! This would be of great significance for promoting rural collectivization, enriching the cultural life of farmers, and consolidating the worker-peasant alliance!"

He paused, then added, "Moreover, I heard that our factory's motorcycle project uses advanced technology that Chief Engineer Wang brought back from abroad. If we can actually build it, it will be top-notch! If our projectionists can be among the first to use it and ride it to the countryside, that would be the best publicity for our factory's products! When the people see it, they'll say, 'Wow, Hongxing Factory's motorcycles are really impressive!' That kind of 'GG effect' is stronger than anything else!"

Li Huaide listened, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. Xu Damao's words struck a chord with him. The motorcycle project was a new project strongly advocated by Wang Huanbo, and highly valued by the factory and even the ministry. Its goal was to create high-end industrial products, even for export and foreign exchange earnings. If it could be used first in practical applications, such as film screenings, postal delivery, and police patrols, creating a demonstration effect, it would undoubtedly greatly benefit the project's promotion and brand building. Projectionists frequently travel to rural areas, have a wide network of contacts, and are indeed a good mobile marketing tool.

"Your idea makes some sense," Li Huaide said slowly. "However, the motorcycle project is still in the research and development stage. When it will be put into production and what its performance will be like are still unknown. Moreover, even if it goes into production, the initial output will definitely be limited. Who will receive it and how will it be distributed? These are all things that need to be considered in a comprehensive manner."

Xu Damao's heart was in his throat, but when he heard that Li Huaide did not reject it outright, a glimmer of hope arose again.

"Alright then," Li Huaide pondered for a moment, "I'll bring up your suggestion at the factory meeting. But you also need to continue doing your job well. Your report on the trip to the countryside was good, but it's not enough. From now on, every time we go to the countryside to screen films, you need to record the local situation in detail, especially the people's reactions to the films and policies, and their experience and needs regarding our factory's products (such as tractors). This is all firsthand information, which is valuable for the factory's production and publicity. If you can continue to make achievements in this area, when the motorcycles are actually produced, the organization will give priority to comrades like you who are in need and have made contributions."

Although no explicit promise was made, Li Huaide's words gave Xu Damao hope and a direction to strive for. Xu Damao immediately replied, "Yes! Please rest assured, Director Li! I will definitely work harder, do a good job in the screenings, go deep into the community, collect information, and report promptly! I will never bring shame to our Red Star Factory!"

Emerging from Deputy Factory Director Li's office, Xu Damao felt lightheaded, his steps even quickening. There was hope! Director Li hadn't ruled out anything, so there was a chance! As long as he worked hard, gathered valuable information, and performed well, he had a great chance once the motorcycles were released!

He could almost see himself riding a brand-new, gleaming Red Star brand three-wheeled motorcycle, a projector slung over the sidecar, speeding along the country road. Passersby would turn their heads in disbelief, and children would chase after the vehicle. Upon arriving at the filming location, commune cadres would warmly welcome him, and villagers would surround him and the motorcycle, praising him enthusiastically. Back in the courtyard, Sha Zhu, pushing his old, dilapidated bicycle, stared in disbelief, his face filled with envy, jealousy, and resentment…

"Hehe..." Xu Damao couldn't help but laugh out loud, attracting the attention of passersby. He quickly suppressed his laughter, put his hands behind his back, and walked towards the propaganda department with measured steps, pondering in his mind where to go to the countryside next time and how to better "gather information".

Life at the Hongxing Factory seemed to proceed as usual, with machines roaring and sparks flying. But in a corner unknown to some, in the highly confidential special vehicle prototype workshop, motorcycle blueprints were being refined, and parts for the first experimental engine were being meticulously machined on those precious three-axis CNC machine tools. On the Gobi Desert in Yumen, the foundation for the massive "Qiming" device was being poured, and technical elites from across the country, led by Wang Huanbo, were overcoming one challenge after another. In the fields of Wangjiazhuang, the roar of the "little cannons" had become the clarion call for spring plowing, and the deeply tilled soil awaited the seeds and the harvest.

The seeds of change had been sown, and the sparks of technology were being ignited. In the spring of 1957, from factories in the capital to remote villages, countless people were working tirelessly in their respective posts, striving for a more modern and prosperous future. Xu Damao's dream of motorcycles, Wang Jinshi's path as a tractor driver, Wang Huanbo's dream of "the sun," and even the grand narrative of the nation's industrialization and agricultural collectivization, all intertwined, converged, and surged towards an unknowable future on this ancient yet vibrant land. The chugging of diesel engines seemed like the most powerful heartbeat of this era, foreshadowing a more profound and magnificent transformation that was about to unfold.