1950s: After transmigrating into a capitalist, I relied on military industry to achieve a comeback.

Lin Hongsheng held the warm lunchbox, watching his daughter walk towards the huge machine tool, his heart filled with mixed emotions. He felt both proud and apprehensive; this girl was even bolder than him.

Lin Jiaoyue walked to the machine tool, took out a hair tie from her pocket, and tied two small braids behind her head, revealing her smooth and full forehead. She stretched out her hand, her fingertips gently resting on the cold machine body, and closed her eyes.

At that moment, the noise subsided.

In her mind, the machine tool had been disassembled into countless blue line models. The meshing of gears, the rotation of bearings, the flow of lubricating oil—all the data were jumping wildly.

"A size 14 wrench, a feeler gauge, and that..." She pointed to the toolbox, "the smallest file."

Reluctantly, Mr. Liu handed over the tools.

Lin Jiaoyue took the wrench, her movements so skillful they were dazzling. Unlike Engineer Liu, who disassembled it extensively, she crawled under the machine tool, her entire body almost pressed against the oil-stained cement floor.

"Raise the left side by 3 millimeters, using a copper sheet." The voice that came out was deep and calm.

Wang Dana quickly looked for copper sheets.

"Open the gearbox and adjust the phase angle of the second shaft by 15 degrees."

"This...this isn't written in the book!" Engineer Liu couldn't help but interject.

"The book doesn't explain how to repair machines in the winter in Northeast China." Lin Jiaoyue didn't turn her head, holding a file in her hand, gently polishing the edge of a precision gear.

The movements were as gentle as embroidery, each cut precise and accurate. Iron filings flew everywhere, making a soft rustling sound.

Time ticked by, and the workshop was so quiet that only the clanging of metal could be heard. Everyone held their breath, watching the petite figure move among the massive machines. Her hands were covered in black machine oil, and a black mark smudged her cheek, yet she appeared remarkably focused and captivating.

Standing outside the crowd, Lin Hongsheng watched his daughter's skillful movements, a strange feeling suddenly welling up inside him. This technique, this demeanor—even the overseas-trained chief engineers he'd met in Shanghai back in the day hadn't been this efficient. What kind of magical place had his daughter's soul gone to these past ten years?

One hour and forty minutes.

Lin Jiaoyue crawled out from under the machine, dusted herself off, and tossed the wrench into Liu Gong's arms: "All done."

Is that all?

Looking at the pile of scraped iron filings on the ground and the machine tool that seemed unchanged after being reassembled, Engineer Liu was full of suspicion.

"Turn it on." Lin Jiaoyue picked up a rag from the side to wipe her hands, her tone as flat as if she were saying "Dinner's ready."

Factory Director Zhang took a deep breath, walked over personally, placed his hand on the red start button, and pressed it down hard.

"Buzz—"

There was no piercing scream, no violent tremor.

The sound of the motor starting was deep and smooth, like silk gliding across a musical string. The huge chuck began to spin, faster and faster, yet remained as steady as a mountain.

Wang Dana, his hands trembling, picked up a rough blank and placed it on the lathe. The cutting tool was fed in, and iron filings flew out like a swirling silver dragon.

A few minutes later, a shiny, mirror-like part was completed.

Engineer Liu rushed over with a micrometer to take measurements, his hands trembling several times before he finally got the right position.

"How is it?" Factory Director Zhang asked anxiously.

Engineer Liu looked up, his face a picture of disbelief, his voice cracking: "The...tolerance is 0.005 millimeters...that's...that's double the precision of the original! This is the standard for top-grade products!"

"Whoosh—"

The workshop erupted in chaos. The workers stared wide-eyed at Lin Jiaoyue as if she were a monster.

"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!"

"This isn't just repairing a machine, it's like blessing it!"

Factory Director Zhang was so excited his face was trembling. He strode up to Lin Jiaoyue, his eyes blazing with eagerness: "Young comrade! You... which school did you graduate from? No, which research institute did you go to?"

Lin Jiaoyue had completely shed her "Engineer Lin" persona by now. She wiped the grease off her hands and reverted to her usual sweet and innocent girl-next-door self. She blinked and pointed to the lunchbox in Lin Hongsheng's hand: "I'm the family's second-year student. Uncle, now that the machine's fixed, can I eat my scallion pancake? It's getting cold."

Factory Director Zhang was taken aback for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter: "Eat! Whatever you want to eat, Uncle will buy it for you! From now on, you can come and go as you please at the Red Star Factory canteen!"

He turned his head and his gaze fell on Lin Hongsheng, who was preparing to quietly slip away with his daughter.

Lin Hongsheng's heart skipped a beat, realizing something was wrong.

Factory Director Zhang squinted, his eyes filled with a hint of inquiry and deeper meaning, as he looked the usually timid and hardworking warehouse keeper up and down.

"Old Lin," Director Zhang patted Lin Hongsheng's shoulder meaningfully, the pat quite hard, "your daughter has such skills, and you actually told me you're just an old farmer who fled during the war? If the higher-ups knew I was keeping this kind of talent at home making pancakes, would I still be able to keep my job as director?"

Lin Hongsheng forced a smile, but his back was already soaked with sweat. He knew that in this workshop filled with the smell of engine oil, the carefully cultivated facade of their "poor peasant" family had been ripped open by his daughter's amazing skill.

And this hole lets in not only light, but also possibly storms.