In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Chapter 111 Joining Forces to Draw Up a Blueprint

Zhang Yong stared at him.

Which factory in Baoding?

"Baoding, Baoding Chemical!" Section Chief Liu's eyes darted around. "Anyway, it's purchased through legitimate channels, and there are invoices!"

"An invoice?" Zhang Yong sneered. "Gaoyang County, Baoding, right?"

Section Chief Liu's face turned pale, and he fell silent, as if someone had grabbed his neck.

Zhang Yong didn't give him a chance to catch his breath.

"This isn't some special supply from a major manufacturer. It's fake oil made by mixing thickeners from recycled waste engine oil processing. It costs two yuan a barrel to produce, five yuan at the factory, and fifteen yuan in your hands."

He held up his oily fingers and waved them in front of Section Chief Liu.

"When fake oil is poured into the blower bearing, it starts to roughen at 300 RPM and the bearing temperature can reach 120 RPM at 500 RPM."

His voice grew deeper and deeper.

"Deputy Factory Director Meng, have your factory's blowers been breaking down frequently these past two months?"

Meng Qingshan followed him out through the back door, his face turning green.

"Three units! Number one, number three, and number five! All of them have seized bearings! I thought it was due to old equipment or that slag had gotten into them—"

"The culprit is right here," Zhang Yong said, pointing to the pool of black oil on the ground. "It's the fake oil that your Section Chief Liu purchased."

Meng Qingshan was furious.

He rushed to Section Chief Liu in two steps, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him against the iron bucket.

"Liu Dehou! How much kickback did you take?!"

"I didn't! I didn't!"

Section Chief Liu flailed his arms wildly, "I've been doing this for so many years, it's really not that! I just wanted a cheap deal! I really just wanted a cheap deal!"

"Trying to save money?" Meng Qingshan's voice trembled. "Three blowers! Each one costs eight hundred yuan to repair! That's two thousand four hundred yuan! How much have you saved the factory? Do the math yourself!"

"Seven yuan saved per bucket, seventy yuan saved per ten buckets, less than a thousand yuan saved in a year. But you, you saved a thousand, but lost two thousand four hundred! And you almost blew up the boiler!"

Section Chief Liu was pressed against the iron barrel, his face against the cold metal, while he continued to shout.

"Let go! Let go! I'm from the transportation department! You're the deputy! You have no right to tell me what to do!"

"It's none of my business!"

A dull thud came from the back door.

Meng Dehou.

The old factory director had returned sometime earlier, standing in the doorway with his pipe in his hand.

His gaze shifted from the oil drum on the ground to Section Chief Liu, and then to the black oil stains remaining on Zhang Yong's fingers.

"Liu Dehou".

Section Chief Liu's body stiffened.

"What exactly is your relationship with the people in Baoding?"

"I—I know someone who does sales—he said it was leftover stock from a major factory—"

"Leftover stock?" Zhang Yong asked. "The Chaoyang District Police Station has already opened a case regarding Ma Degui's counterfeit oil case, and the police in Baoding are currently closing in."

He looked at Section Chief Liu.

"If you only took kickbacks, and you confess honestly now, it might still be considered a disciplinary violation. But if you have deeper ties to Ma Degui's network—"

Section Chief Liu's legs went weak.

"I didn't! I really didn't! It's just—it's just that he gave me two packs of cigarettes—"

Meng Dehou slammed his pipe heavily against the door frame, the copper head making a crisp sound.

"Go back and write a self-criticism. Explain yourself clearly at the factory meeting. Before that, hand over the transportation department's official seal."

Section Chief Liu scrambled to his feet and ran as fast as he could into the factory area.

At this point, Wei Shuyun had already pulled a brown paper bag out of the trunk of the Jeep.

She walked over quickly and pulled two items out of the bag.

A small bottle of dark brown oil sample, originally obtained from Lida Auto Repair Shop in Tongxian County.

A component testing report stamped with the red seal of the Petrochemical Research Institute.

"Grandpa Meng," Wei Shuyun handed the items to Meng Dehou. "These are samples from the petrochemical institute after my father's winery fleet used the same batch of counterfeit oil. Please compare them."

Meng Dehou took the report and squinted at it for a long time.

He knew Wei Shuyun.

In Tongxian, who doesn't know Wei Dabiao's daughter? She got into Tsinghua University this year; she's the most educated among his younger generation.

He didn't quite understand the data on the report, but he recognized the words in red: "acid value exceeds standard," "no anti-wear additives," and "suspected recycled base oil."

The old man stared at it for a very long time.

Then I folded the report and put it in my coat pocket.

"Son." He turned to look at his son, his voice hoarse.

"Seal all the counterfeit oil. Report it to the safety supervision bureau, the industry and commerce bureau, and the public security bureau tomorrow. Don't miss a single one. Everyone's safety must be guaranteed."

Meng Qingshan nodded emphatically.

"Dad, I'll go arrange it right away."

Meng Dehou glanced at Zhang Yong again.

This time he didn't say anything.

But the doubt and disdain from before were gone from that look in his eyes.

He turned and left.

He held the pipe in his hand, but never lit it again.

Meng Qingshan directed the workers to move all the dozen or so barrels of fake oil into the warehouse and lock it up. He also ordered people to dig out and seal all the purchase orders handled by Section Chief Liu.

Zhang Yong returned to the small table in the boiler room, where a pen, a steel ruler, an old original boiler drawing, and three large sheets of white paper that Meng Qingshan had brought from the office were placed on the table.

Zhang Yong studied the old blueprints for a long time before starting to record data, the pen tip scratching softly on the paper.

Wei Shuyun watched for a while and quickly figured out the trick.

"I'll draw the graph. You just point out the data and let me label it."

Without waiting for a reply, he took out a steel ruler and a pencil, and marked out a professional ruler with horizontal and vertical axes on the paper.

"Don't forget, I'm going to study architecture in the future, and I've practiced drawing blueprints countless times."

The two smiled at each other and worked together to draw a front sectional view of the No. 1 furnace.

Zhang Yong explained what the furnace, water-cooled wall tubes, superheater, and economizer were, while Wei Shuyun, combining the blurry drawings given by Meng Qingshan, precisely drew straight lines.

Then comes the side view.

Next is the top view.

The two of them spent nearly an hour drawing the three pictures.

After finishing the original drawings, Sun Lei also came over, took a measuring tape, and, at Zhang Yong's instruction, worked with Factory Director Meng to conduct supplementary measurements on the boiler to ensure the accuracy of the final recorded data.

After several people had been busy for a while, Zhang Yong finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"It's ready!"

He looked at the blueprints and marked three locations with dotted lines above the primary air duct at the bottom of the furnace.

Secondary air nozzle pre-reserved opening.

Each location is marked with its angle, aperture, and spacing.

It is written in small print next to it: Use with an air preheater outlet temperature of 150℃.

An elderly stoker with gray hair approached us at some point.

The old furnace worker bent over, his two calloused hands resting on the edge of the iron table, squinting as he looked at the drawing Zhang Yong was making.

After looking at it for a while, he pointed to the location of the three reserved openings.

"Young comrade, you have these three mouths—"

"Um?"

"By setting it at this height, are you trying to let the secondary air blow down from above and reignite any unburned gas?"

Zhang Yong looked up and glanced at him.

"Master, how many years have you been tending the stove?"

"Twenty-three years."

"Then you must know that when the wind blows upwards from under the grate, if the coal layer is thick, the top layer of coal can't be burned through at all. That's why black smoke comes out of the chimney."

The old furnace worker nodded repeatedly. "That's right! In the winter, when there's a lot of work, the black smoke coming out of the chimney is so thick you can smell the gas even standing at the factory gate."

"Several villages around us have come to complain, saying that our coal ash has covered our farmland."

"We almost got into a fight back then. They wanted us to compensate for the crops, and it caused quite a stir."