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

In December, the wind in Harbin is as hard as a knife, howling as it scrapes against the window paper.

In the office of the technical department of Hongxing Machinery Factory, the stove was burning brightly, and the steam from the large tea mug fogged up the glass.

Lin Jiaoyue sat at her workstation by the window, a pencil in her hand, lightly sketching on a drawing. She wore a slightly oversized dark blue work uniform, the cuffs rolled up twice, revealing half of her fair wrists.

"Xiao Lin," Qian Hongda said casually, crossing his legs and twirling a pen in his hand, his tone slightly probing, "can you understand the 'Допуск' (tolerance) on this Soviet blueprint? If you don't, don't pretend. Although I'm busy, I still have time to give you some pointers."

Qian Hongda, in his early forties, with a receding hairline, was a senior member of the technical department. Ever since returning from the meeting and hearing that Lin Jiaoyue, this "young girl," had received the benefits of an eighth-grade worker, he felt like he had swallowed a fly; he couldn't shake the unease.

Lin Jiaoyue didn't look up, nor did she stop writing. She simply replied in a soft voice, "Master Qian, I'm looking it up in the dictionary right now. Russian is really difficult. I'll have to trouble you to help me in the future."

She adopted a very humble attitude.

Having spent her past life struggling in a high-powered company, she understands the rules of the workplace all too well. In this position, being too sharp makes you a target, while being too soft makes you an easy target. Playing dumb most of the time and showing your skills when it counts is the key.

Upon hearing this, Qian Hongda let out a satisfied sigh. Just as he was about to put on airs of seniority again, the office door was suddenly kicked open.

"Old Qian! Help, Old Qian!"

Director Li from Workshop Three rushed in, his cotton-padded coat buttons undone, and covered in sweat. He grabbed Qian Hongda's arm and exclaimed, "That imported punching machine has gone mad again! Scrap metal is piled up everywhere. If it can't be fixed soon, tomorrow's military production order will be canceled!"

Qian Hongda was pulled so hard he stumbled, spilling tea all over his pockets, but when he heard it was that precious machine, he didn't dare to delay and ran out with his toolbox.

Lin Jiaoyue put down her pen, closed the drawing, and followed at a leisurely pace.

The noise in Workshop 3 was deafening.

The Soviet-style punching machine, like a wild beast out of control, emitted a series of metallic clanging sounds that made one's teeth ache. A pile of scrapped parts lay scattered on the ground, each hole misaligned.

Qian Hongda circled the machine three times, sweat streaming down his bald head.

Remove the cover plate, check the transmission, and calibrate the positioning pins.

For three whole hours, he and his two apprentices disassembled the machine into pieces and then put it back together.

As soon as I turned it on—"bang!"—it froze even more.

"This is weird..." Qian Hongda plopped down on the greasy ground, threw the wrench aside, and roared angrily, "This isn't a mechanical malfunction at all! Director Li, I'm telling you right now, this is a design flaw! It's a problem from the moment we were born; even a god couldn't help but stare at it!"

Director Li was so anxious he stamped his feet, his face turning purple: "Master Qian, you can't say things like that! These are parts for the front lines. If we can't deliver, our entire factory will be punished!"

"You can't force me!" Qian Hongda retorted, his face flushed and neck red. "I've examined the entire structure. Even if you brought in a Soviet expert, he still couldn't fix it!"

The workers around him were all dejected, and the atmosphere in the workshop was so oppressive that it was hard to breathe.

In the midst of this deathly silence, a clear, cold voice suddenly rang out.

"It's not a design flaw, it's that you were too greedy."

Everyone was stunned and turned around in unison.

Lin Jiaoyue stood on the periphery of the crowd, her hands in her work clothes pockets. In this workshop full of oil stains and the smell of sweat, she was as clean as an out-of-season white lotus.

Qian Hongda, already seething with anger, immediately exploded when he saw it was Lin Jiaoyue: "Lin Jiaoyue! Do you have any right to speak here? Why aren't you in your office having tea? What are you doing here causing trouble? Do you even understand how this machine works?"

Lin Jiaoyue ignored his roar, stepped over the scrap on the ground, and walked straight to the machine tool.

She didn't take a wrench or look at the dial; she just tilted her head and stared at the cold-looking feed rail.

"Don't bother looking, that's the feed inlet, a simple gravity guide rail, what kind of tricks could it have?" Qian Hongda scoffed, wiping the grease off his face. "If you can see anything fancy about it, I'll swallow this wrench whole!"

Lin Jiaoyue turned around, not looking at Qian Hongda, but at Director Li.

"The instruction manual says this machine's processing speed is 40 pieces per minute, right?"

Director Li nodded subconsciously: "Yes, that's the number."

"To meet the deadline, you adjusted the speed without permission. The current cycle time is at least 45 beats per minute." Lin Jiaoyue said calmly, as if she were saying that the weather was nice today. "The machine can handle the faster speed, but the slide rail can't."

"Nonsense!" Qian Hongda jumped up. "What does the rotation speed have to do with the slide rail? As long as the machine can turn, that's skill!"

"This is common sense in physics."

Lin Jiaoyue held up two fingers and gestured on the slide rail. "The slide rail is designed with a 15-degree inclination. At a speed of 40 parts per minute, the friction and gravity components of the parts sliding down are just balanced. But you increased the speed to 45 parts per minute, and the time the parts stay on the slide rail was shortened by 0.3 seconds."

She paused, her voice not loud, but it carried throughout the entire workshop: "Before the first part even got into the slot, the second one crashed into it. The two lumps of metal were crammed together at the entrance, slowing down the feeding, so the cutting head naturally went astray. This is what they call—haste makes waste."

There were no complicated jargons, just plain language. Everyone present was a veteran worker, so they understood immediately.

Director Li slapped his thigh suddenly: "You mean, it's like crossing a narrow bridge, where the people behind run too fast and knock the people in front off?"

"Yes." Lin Jiaoyue nodded.

Qian Hongda stared, his face alternating between red and white. He had spent half a day studying the complex gear transmission, wishing he could disassemble the machine into atoms, but he never expected the problem to lie in such basic physical logic.

"Then...what do we do?" Qian Hongda's confidence wavered. "We can't just slow down, can we? Who's responsible if the mission isn't completed?"

"Who said we should slow down?"

Lin Jiaoyue walked to the pile of scraps in the corner, bent down and picked up two pieces of scrap hardwood, and then found a hammer.

"Since the speed is faster, let the parts slide even faster."

Under the watchful eyes of dozens of people, she squatted down beside the machine tool and stuffed the two inconspicuous pieces of rotten wood under the slide rail base.

"Tap, tap, tap."

The sound of a hammer striking a wooden wedge was particularly crisp in the quiet workshop.

As the wooden wedge gradually embedded itself, the rear of the slide rail was forcibly raised a bit.

"15 degrees isn't enough, then change it to 17.5 degrees. Raise your buttocks, increase the component of gravity, and counteract frictional resistance." Lin Jiaoyue muttered to herself, raising and lowering the hammer, giving it a final, heavy tap. "Alright."

She stood up, dusted off her hands, and said, "Turn it on."

Director Li stared at the two pieces of rotten wood, his heart pounding. All that effort he'd spent the afternoon working on this high-tech equipment, and it'd actually work just because he propped it up with a couple of pieces of wood? It sounded like a joke.

But seeing Lin Jiaoyue's determined look, he gritted his teeth and pressed the start button.

"Buzz—"

The motor roared, and the machine tool started turning again.

Everyone's hearts were in their throats, their eyes glued to the feed inlet.

The metal parts, like obedient silver snakes, slid down the raised slide rails with a "whoosh" and landed precisely in their slots.

"Click, click, click!"

The original ear-piercing impact sound was gone, replaced by a rhythmic processing sound.

A minute passed.

The counter is stuck at "45".

Upon measurement, the hole positions were perfectly accurate; they were all top-grade products!

The workshop was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

A few seconds later, a thunderous roar erupted!

"Amazing! Absolutely amazing!" Director Li exclaimed excitedly, grabbing Lin Jiaoyue's hand and refusing to let go. "Engineer Lin, what's wrong with your brain? You cured two pieces of wood?"

If some people thought she was just lucky to have repaired the Soviet-style machine tool last time, then this time, she solved a problem that had been plaguing the entire factory using the simplest physical principles and the most primitive tools.

On the outskirts of the crowd, Qian Hongda stood alone. He stared at the two wooden wedges, feeling as if they had not only supported the machine, but had also slapped him hard across the face. His cheeks burned with pain, as if he had been slapped hundreds of times.

He finally realized that the difference between himself and this little girl was not in experience, but in their minds.

After a long while, Qian Hongda dragged his heavy steps to Lin Jiaoyue, his head almost buried in his crotch: "Lin... Engineer Lin, I was wrong just now. I... I admit it."

Lin Jiaoyue looked at the technical backbone who had been so arrogant just moments before, but there was no smug expression on her face.

She simply put her hands back in her pockets, her tone still soft and gentle, yet carrying a strength that made it difficult to look directly at her: "Master Qian, you're too kind. We're all just trying to make a living. As long as the machine works, it doesn't matter who fixes it. Don't you agree?"

Qian Hongda wished he could disappear into a crack in the ground.

His perspective is on a completely different level.

From that day on, the atmosphere in the technical department completely changed. No one dared to bring up Lin Jiaoyue's age anymore. Those old technicians who used to ignore her would now respectfully call her "Teacher Lin" when they saw her.

Lin Jiaoyue managed to hold onto her secure job at Hongxing Machinery Factory with her two pieces of wood.

Little did she know that this commotion had already attracted the attention of some people in the factory.

At that moment, behind the curtains of the factory manager's office on the second floor, a pair of eyes were fixed on the figure being fawned over at the workshop entrance, oblivious to the cigarette burning his fingers.

"Investigate her background," the man said in a low voice. "A person like her is not as simple as just having an uncle who studied abroad."