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

"A hairpin? Repairing a heavy truck?" The driver, squatting on the ground, was stunned. "What's going on? Have you been driving at night too long and seen a ghost?"

"Director Wei, is this shaman your daughter brought here to stab a ghost's head?"

"If a hairpin could fix the Dongfeng-141, I'd swallow the wrench!"

Wei Dabiao's face turned bright red.

Wei Shuyun ignored her father's glare and reached out to pull off the black hair clip from her head.

Her long hair was loose over her shoulders, and the flashlight shone on her pale face.

She placed the hair clip in Zhang Yong's outstretched palm.

"Here you go, take it and get it fixed."

Zhang Yong took the hair clip and twisted it. This ordinary wire hair clip had good elasticity and the thickness was just right.

He bent it a few times, turning the hair clip into a long probe with a hook, while keeping the pick at the end.

He then crawled directly under the first car.

The bottom of the car was covered in mud, gravel, and old engine oil. As soon as Zhang Yong lay down, his clothes were covered in oil.

He lay on his back, a flashlight between his teeth, the beam of light shining on the pipes at the bottom of the engine.

Seeing this, the translator leaned over to Santana and whispered a few words to Smith.

Smith grinned and mumbled something in a foreign language.

The translator laughed and translated loudly: "Mr. Smith said that if this boy could start a four-and-a-half-ton Dongfeng heavy truck with a woman's hairpin, he would be willing to eat the mud off his shoe on the spot."

Zhang Yong's voice came from under the car.

"Shut up! Stop spouting nonsense! What are you pretending to be, you foreign devil!"

The translator snorted coldly, wanting to see what Zhang Yong could come up with.

Zhang Yong stopped talking. His attention was completely focused on what was in front of him.

He inserted the hairpin probe into the maintenance gap on the side of the heat dissipation hole, to a depth of about seven centimeters.

Sure enough, the tip of the wire touched a hard lump.

Solidified sludge.

It got stuck between the third coil and the valve seat of the valve spring, and the spring was locked.

Zhang Yong adjusted the angle of the hook and found the gap between the mud block and the spring.

Then, gently flick it with the paddle at the end.

Click.

A very faint metallic popping sound.

The spring has returned to its original position.

Zhang Yong slid out from under the car, his white shirt now black.

He stood up, dusted himself off, and shouted at the driver who was standing on the curb in a daze.

"Go up there! Start a fire!"

The driver glanced at Wei Dabiao. Wei Dabiao gritted his teeth and waved his hand.

The driver got into the car and turned the key.

"Boom—!"

The four-and-a-half-ton Dongfeng heavy truck was jolted awake from the dead silence. The roar of its engine shook the ground, and its headlights suddenly blazed on, two beams of light cleaving through the night and illuminating the cornfield opposite.

Wei Dabiao was stunned for a moment, then slapped his thigh on the spot with joy and grinned from ear to ear.

"It's lit up! It's lit up! My God! Heaven has opened its eyes!"

"My ancestors have appeared to me!"

The translator's face went from white to red, and then from red to white, as spectacular as a face-changing act.

There was no need for a translator to speak; Smith rushed to the front of the car, pressed his face against the hood, and peered inside, shouting in both Chinese and English, "Impossible! This is absolutely impossible! The main pump is burnt out! I checked it!"

"The main pump isn't burned out." Zhang Yong twirled the hair clip in his hand. "The valve springs are stuck due to sludge from the low-quality engine oil. You didn't even check before declaring it scrapped, are you trying to scam me out of my consulting fees? You're a fraudster!"

Zhang Yong speaks Chinese.

The translator shrank back and didn't dare to translate.

Zhang Yong didn't expect the translator to do anything and went straight to the second car.

The same procedure was performed: crawl under the car, insert a probe, locate the jamming point, and pry it open.

"Light a fire."

"Boom—!"

The second one also came to life.

Wei Dabiao's eyes reddened, and he kept repeating two words.

"A master! A true master!"

Wei Shuyun watched Zhang Yong's oil-stained back as he slid out from under the second car, stood up, and walked towards the third car.

The car was stuck in the ditch.

Zhang Yong first observed the angle and depth of the stuck vehicle. The right rear wheel was mostly submerged, but the chassis had not bottomed out, and the drive shaft was intact.

He told the driver, "Don't start the engine yet. Wait until I've fixed the springs. After you start the engine, put it in reverse, turn the steering wheel all the way to the left, and rev the engine to 3,000 RPM. I'll push it from behind."

"You think you can push it by yourself?" the driver asked, his face full of doubt.

"You've come to the right place. I really can't push it by myself. Let's get them to help." Zhang Yong pointed to a group of repairmen squatting down.

This time, none of the mechanics laughed; they all stood up and obediently walked to the back of the car to wait.

Zhang Yong crawled under the third car.

Same location, same technique.

Click.

"Light a fire."

"Boom—!"

The third one woke up too.

"Reverse! Turn all the way! Accelerate!"

"push--!"

The engine roared, and seven or eight people desperately braced the rear of the vehicle. The tires spun twice in the ditch, splashing mud all over everyone. Then, the vehicle suddenly gripped the edge of the road, and the entire vehicle, along with its crew and cargo, was ejected from the ditch.

Cheers erupted.

The workers jumped and danced, while Wei Dabiao squatted on the ground, covering his face, his shoulders twitching.

Smith stood frozen in place, his expression worse than if he'd swallowed a fly. The translator had already quietly moved towards Santana, ready to make a run for it at any moment.

Wei Shuyun ran over and handed Zhang Yong a towel.

Zhang Yong took it and wiped his face. Just as he was about to say something, a strange noise suddenly came from the direction of the first car.

"Bang bang bang—"

A thick plume of smoke suddenly shot out from the exhaust pipe.

The engine noise began to change pitch, becoming sharp and piercing.

The whole car started shaking.

puff.

It stalled again.

Wei Dabiao was overjoyed and devastated at the same time, feeling like his heart was about to give way.

He looked at Zhang Yong, trembling, and almost knelt down.

"Master Zhang! Please save me! All the workers in my factory depend on these three trucks for their livelihood!"

Zhang Yong quickly helped him up and looked at the stopped truck.

"Actually, I figured out what was going on."

"The valve springs are working, but the engine oil you bought is no good."

"If we keep running like this, it won't just be a problem of the spring getting stuck... it'll be a problem of the cylinder seizing up."

"What does 'pulling the jar' mean?" Wei Dabiao stood up, his face still wet with tears.

"The engine is truly beyond repair."

Zhang Yong squatted in front of the exhaust pipe of the first car and shone a flashlight on the inner wall of the pipe opening.

The black sediment was very thick, and when you scratched it open with your fingernail, you found that the stuff underneath the hard shell was very sticky and soft.

Zhang Yong wiped off a handful of mud and pointed it out to Wei Dabiao.

"Uncle Wei, which store in Tongzhou did you buy your engine oil from?"

Wei Dabiao's voice was still trembling: "Tongxian Auto Parts City, the third shop on the east end, what's it called again... Xinda Auto Parts. The owner's surname is Zhou, we used to buy from there."

"Did you also buy it for twelve yuan a bucket before?"

"No, it used to be over thirty. Last month, Lao Zhou said he got a batch of leftover stock; the manufacturer was clearing out inventory and selling it cheaply. I figured I should save a little money, so I bought twenty barrels."

Twenty barrels.

Zhang Yong did the math in his head. With the three Dongfeng trucks and the vehicles and equipment in the distillery yard, if all twenty barrels of fake engine oil were used, the losses would far exceed the immediate consequences.

"Uncle Wei, don't use the rest of the oil yet."

"You bought counterfeit oil."