The Fitter Master in the Courtyard: Surrounded by Dead Men

She tried to keep her voice steady, her gaze fixed on the first line of text, "The first question is... how did you manage to obtain your Level 6 Fitter qualification at the age of twenty through hard work?"

I wanted to ask the questions based on my memory, but my mind was still blank, so I could only read the words on the paper aloud.

"It's a gradual accumulation over time."

Yang Ping remained calm and composed, speaking fluently as if she had prepared in advance: "My father was also a fitter in the factory. I grew up listening to him talk about techniques and watching his craftsmanship, and I was influenced by him from a young age."

During his three-year apprenticeship, he gradually honed his skills and gained some experience, which allowed him to pass the assessment by sheer luck.

He spoke slowly, as if recounting a perfectly natural past event.

Yang Ping had no idea what others thought, but he himself didn't believe it at all.

Gao Yue suddenly looked enlightened.

She picked up her pen and began to record every word Yang Ping said, preparing to carefully organize it into a written document and submit it to the section chief.

Xie Quancai, who was standing next to him, also looked enlightened and nodded in agreement.

This situation left Yang Ping speechless for a moment—it's one thing if others believe it, but you are my master, don't you know my capabilities?

These words only lingered in his mind; he didn't dare to actually say them aloud.

Gao Yue glanced down at her notes and continued asking questions.

Yang Ping had no choice but to go along with the conversation, responding with a mix of truth and falsehood.

After answering the last question, Gao Yue couldn't help but sigh softly:

"Comrade Yang Ping, your journey has been truly remarkable. Your contributions will be indispensable in the future history of the steel rolling mill."

Yang Ping raised his hand to touch the back of his neck, a hint of guilt flashing through his mind—he seemed to have gone a little too far with his boasting.

"That's right, my apprentice is indeed capable, worthy of being written into the factory's history."

Xie Quancai nodded in agreement.

Yang Ping's forehead throbbed slightly.

You're my master, can you please be more level-headed? Stop stirring up trouble!

He silently murmured these thoughts to himself.

"Gao Yue, from now on you can just call me Yang Ping, and I'll call you Gao Yue too."

Now that we know each other, calling each other "comrade" would seem too formal.

He harbored the idea of ​​having more contact in the future, so his words left room for closer interaction.

"Okay, Yang Ping."

Thank you for taking the time to say all this today. I have to rush back to work on my manuscript, so I'll be going now.

Gao Yue smiled and took her leave, turning and departing.

Gao Yue's figure disappeared outside the door, while Yang Ping still had that lingering smile on his face.

He turned around, walked to the familiar machine, and gripped the cold metal handle again. The grinding wheel turned, producing tiny sparks and a low hum.

Xie Quancai strolled over slowly, his voice not loud but clear amidst the noise of the machines: "This girl is really something, a high school student, from a good family, the beauty of the factory's broadcasting station... She and your 'legendary' apprentice are a match made in heaven."

Yang Ping seemed not to hear, focusing only on the outline of the part that was gradually taking shape at her fingertips.

Seeing that he didn't respond, Xie Quancai stopped talking. Soon, only the regular and monotonous grinding sound remained in the workshop. Time passed inch by inch amidst the friction of metal and the floating of dust.

By the time the edges of the last level 6 part were polished smooth and properly fitted, the sun outside the window was already setting in the west, casting a weary orange glow.

Yang Ping straightened his somewhat stiff back, picked up the enamel mug, and took a sip of water.

Just then, the bell rang crisply, signaling the end of the workday.

"Let's go."

Lu Shuitian's voice rang out at the doorway at just the right moment, with his usual steadiness, "I'll see you out today, so those people won't swarm around again and cause endless trouble."

Yang Ping gave a brief reply and put down the jar.

He knew in his heart that the incident on the radio during the day had caused too much of a stir, and there was probably a crowd of people waiting outside the workshop with curiosity and discussion.

If we can avoid today, once the novelty wears off tomorrow, things will likely return to normal.

The two of them left the workshop one after the other.

Sure enough, a few people had already gathered outside, all looking at them with eager smiles on their faces.

But when they saw Lü Shuitian standing calmly and steadily beside Yang Ping, their smiles faded like the tide, replaced by undisguised disappointment and resentment.

Xie Quancai had already made an excuse to go to the toilet and did not go with them.

Yang Ping didn't care—his master had his own circumstances, and he wouldn't be as easily trapped by the net of gazes and words as he was.

Clearly, with Lü Shuitian around, they couldn't get past this hurdle.

Seeing that they could not gain any real benefits, many people gave up the idea of ​​befriending Yang Ping.

Of course, many people were simply curious and wanted to see what the young man looked like—and now that they had seen him, they were satisfied.

Without Lü Shuitian needing to say anything, these people dispersed on their own.

Ignoring them, Lü Shuitian walked side by side with Yang Ping, talking as they left the workshop and headed towards the parking lot.

He bent down, unlocked the bicycle, and patted the back seat.

"Yang Ping, come on up!"

"OK."

Yang Ping didn't refuse and sat down without hesitation.

These days, being able to ride a bicycle is still a rare thing.

Many factory directors haven't been assigned bicycles yet, simply because bicycle tickets are so scarce that you can't get one without connections.

As for cars, they were even rarer; only the factory director and deputy director were qualified to use them.

Of course, not every factory has a car provided. Only large factories like Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill with tens of thousands of employees have this privilege; small factories with a few hundred or a couple of thousand employees can forget about it, and even factories with a few thousand employees are extremely rare to be provided with a car.

Lu Shuitian pedaled his bicycle, carrying Yang Ping, out of the factory area.

This scene inevitably drew some surprise from onlookers—it was truly rare to see a workshop foreman personally transporting a fitter on a bicycle.

However, once everyone recognized that the person in the back seat was Yang Ping, the factory's youngest level-six fitter, their surprise turned into understanding: such a person deserves this treatment.

Before long, the car stopped in front of the Nanluogu Supply and Marketing Cooperative.

Yang Ping had asked Lü Shuitian to deliver it here—the vegetables from yesterday were all gone, and he needed to buy some to cook dinner.

"Director Lü, how about we have dinner here tonight?"

Yang Ping extended an invitation.

"No, my wife has already prepared dinner at home, I have to go back."

Lü Shuitian waved his hand.

"Alright, then take care."

Yang Ping responded and watched him ride away.

After watching Lü Shuitian's figure disappear at the alley entrance, he turned around and went into the supply and marketing cooperative. He simply picked out a few kinds of vegetables, then picked up his net bag and walked towards the family compound.

The supply and marketing cooperative is just a few steps away from the compound; you can get there by crossing two narrow streets.

As soon as Yang Ping reached the bluestone path in front of the courtyard gate, he bumped into Sha Zhu, who was sauntering out of the courtyard, clutching a worn-out old brush with bald bristles.

Yang Ping smiled and smiled.

"Hey, move aside."

Sha Zhu snorted through his nose without even lifting his eyelids.

"Hey, Sha Zhu, lunch was pretty good! Next time, add more scallions, I love that."

Yang Ping said with a smile.

He knew perfectly well that the lunch had left Sha Zhu seething with anger, and then Li Chengde had gone over and given him a few more words of advice. The simpleton was probably grinding his teeth to dust.

It's only interesting if you specifically target the sore spots.

"Yang Ping, you're asking for a beating, aren't you?!"

Sha Zhu exploded as expected. The resentment he had been holding back for so long suddenly surged up. The veins on the back of his hand, which was gripping the brush, bulged, and he was about to swing it.

But his arm froze halfway up.

He withdrew his hand, hid the brush behind his back, and didn't dare to move, his face flushed.

— Ma Dachui and his six men had surrounded him not far away at some point, their twelve eyes fixed coldly on him.

"Hehe, silly Zhu, you still need to practice your skills."

"If I can become a level seven cook as soon as possible, I can taste something more authentic, right?"

Yang Ping added another sentence slowly and deliberately.

He enjoyed watching Sha Zhu like this: he was so angry he wanted to bite his teeth, but he couldn't move and could only stare blankly and gasp for breath.

"You...you..."

Sha Zhu pointed at him, his lips trembling for a long time, but he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

"Silly Zhu! What are you dawdling for? What if Dongxu collapses from exhaustion?"

A voice filled with resentment suddenly broke in.

Sha Zhu's anger was extinguished with a hiss, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over it.

That face, as black as a lump of coal, instantly filled with a smile:

"Sister Qin, I'll go relieve Dongxu right away! Tell him to come back for dinner and rest, and leave the cleaning of the public toilets to me."

Qin Huairu readily agreed.

The two then walked one after the other toward the public restroom.

Yang Ping had long heard how attentive Sha Zhu was and how cunning Qin Huairu was, but seeing it with his own eyes today, he was still secretly astonished.

A ridiculous idea suddenly flashed through his mind: if he handed Sha Zhu a lipstick and asked him to give it to Qin Huairu, wouldn't Sha Zhu be indirectly involved when she and Jia Dongxu got intimate?

……

For the next few days, all was calm.

Yang Ping's fitter skills have become increasingly proficient, and he has firmly established himself at the top level of sixth-grade worker.

A work week has come to an end in the blink of an eye, and the rest day has arrived as scheduled.

He thought to himself that after resuming work and practicing on level 6 parts for a few more days, he could try to challenge level 7 parts—once he successfully polished a level 7 part, he would be a true level 7 fitter.

On the morning of his day off, after having breakfast, Yang Ping, finding nothing to do, decided to go out for a stroll and, incidentally, check on the other "insiders."

The traces of.

After locking the door, he strolled out of the courtyard.

As soon as I entered the front yard, I saw Yan Fugui carrying a fishing rod and pushing his old bicycle, about to go out.

"Yang Ping, where are you going? Want a ride?"

Before Yang Ping could speak, Yan Fugui greeted him first.

"Perfect timing, I also want to go fishing."

Yang Ping's mind raced, and he replied.

Did you bring a fishing rod?

Yan Fugui asked.

"Not yet, I plan to go to the store and buy one now."

"Hey! I have an extra one in my house. You can take it and use it first, just return it to me later."

Yan Fugui is rarely generous.

"That's great! If we catch one, you'll definitely get one."

Yang Ping smiled and agreed.

"You two seem to have a good relationship. Where did you often go fishing before?"

Yan Fugui propped up his bicycle and casually asked as he walked into the house.

"I've never fished before."

Yang Ping searched his memory for a moment and answered truthfully.

The original owner of this body had no interest in fishing, rarely went out, and was somewhat withdrawn—probably due to the shadow left by the successive deaths of his parents.

As for himself, he didn't particularly enjoy fishing, and there were no instances of him holding a fishing rod in either of his memories.

"what?"

Yan Fugui raised his hand and wiped his forehead, momentarily speechless.

He was secretly pleased with himself, thinking that he had made a profit by borrowing a fishing rod to get a fish, but little did he know that Yang Ping was a complete novice.

Well, that fish is probably gone for nothing now.

"I'll teach you a few tricks later. These days, the fish in Houhai are very clever; you can't do it without some tips."

Yan Fugui got back on his bicycle and said as he pedaled.

"become."

Yang Ping sat up straight, holding the fishing rod in his arms.

The cool breeze of early autumn brushed against his cheeks, and his body swayed slightly with the bicycle. He felt that the bicycle was loose everywhere, as if it would fall apart at any moment - it didn't sway like this when he rode in Director Lü Shuitian's car before.

"Uncle, is your car... a little unstable?"

He couldn't help but speak up.

"It's perfectly safe!"

Yan Fugui didn't even turn his head. "I sourced all the parts myself, piece by piece. I also assembled the car myself. Every screw is tightened to the bone. You can sit here without worry."

Yang Ping raised an eyebrow.

He originally thought Yan Fugui bought the bicycle secondhand from a flea market, but he never expected it to be "pieced together" like this.

It came out.

A glance across the frame revealed patches of old paint and thin sheet metal patches at several seams. It was immediately clear where the feeling of the bike falling apart came from – most of the parts on this bike were probably salvaged from a junkyard.