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

Zhang Yong helped Wei Dabiao hand over to Wei Shuyun, turned the car around, reopened the hood, pulled out the dipstick, and held it up to the flashlight beam.

The oil on the dipstick was grayish-black, thin, and almost viscous.

He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger, rubbed it apart, and carefully examined the texture of the oil film.

Normal engine oil has a uniform and elastic oil film.

This oil film contains tiny particles that are barely visible to the naked eye.

"There's something mixed in this oil." Zhang Yong's voice wasn't loud, but everyone could hear it clearly in the quiet night.

"It's not just waste oil. There's something else too."

Smith, who knew a little Chinese, also came over at some point. He frowned when he saw Zhang Yong's method of checking the oil dipstick.

He asked in broken Chinese, "What are you looking at?"

"Check the oil level? Don't you check the oil level first when you inspect the car?"

Smith understood, and he paused for a moment.

He definitely didn't check the engine oil. As a technical consultant for a foreign company, he came in and first looked at the electrical system, then checked the fuel pump and starter, but he didn't even start with the most basic thing: the engine oil.

In his experience, engine oil is never a problem.

But this was Beijing in 1990, and many state-owned enterprises would buy counterfeit oil, let alone a small winery.

Smith shut his mouth.

The translator was caught in a dilemma, unsure whether to leave or stay.

Wei Dabiao had no time to worry about the foreigners' feelings; all he could think about were those twenty barrels of oil.

"Zhang Yong! Tell me the truth! What's going on with this oil? Are the machines in my factory still usable?"

Zhang Yong put the oil dipstick back in and wiped the oil off his hands.

"Uncle Wei, I can't give you a definitive answer here. My assessment is that the base oil in this batch of oil is likely recycled waste oil that has been reprocessed. As soon as it's burned, it will clog the oil passages and corrode the seals."

"But what exactly was added and how much was added can only be determined by taking samples for testing."

"Testing? Where should we get tested?" Wei Dabiao asked anxiously.

Zhang Yong recalled the contents of the book during the day and named the two units.

"The Beijing Petrochemical Research Institute, or the Institute of Chemistry, Chinese Academy of Sciences. There aren't many places that can do oil analysis, but these two are definitely capable."

Wei Dabiao asked with a bitter face, "How much will that cost?"

"It won't cost much. The key is time." Zhang Yong looked at him. "Uncle Wei, your most important thing right now isn't the testing, but getting these three truckloads of goods delivered tonight."

Wei Dabiao slapped his forehead: "That's it! The goods! The penalty for breach of contract!"

He turned his head and glanced at the three trucks. Two were still idling, and the first one had just turned off.

"But you just said this oil is no good, it'll cause the engine to seize up if we keep running it—"

"Uncle Wei, drain all the engine oil from all three cars first," Zhang Yong interrupted him.

"what?"

"Drain the dirty oil and refill it with new oil. Are there any gas stations or auto parts stores nearby?"

Wei Dabiao turned to the worker and asked, "Old Liu! Does any gas station in Tongxian Town sell engine oil?"

"Yes, there are, but they're all closed right now..."

"Then let's smash the door!" Wei Dabiao slammed his hand on the truck bed.

Zhang Yong shook his head: "No need to bang on the door. Uncle Wei, do you know anyone at a nearby transportation company or fleet?"

Wei Dabiao thought for a moment: "Yes! Old Ma from Tongxian Transportation Company and I have drunk together!"

"Just call them and borrow three cans of engine oil. Return them new oil tomorrow. The transport company's oil inventory is definitely safe."

Wei Dabiao's eyes lit up, and he turned and ran towards the Santana, which had a car phone.

Zhang Yong watched his retreating figure, then glanced down at the control panel.

[Auto Repair Lv.0 - Entry Level: 22%]

The diagnosis, analysis, and action we just took have increased the progress by more than ten percentage points.

With a few more actual disassembly and reassembly operations, it should be able to be completely unlocked and put into the hanging slot.

Zhang Yong clenched his fist, the oil still sticky between his fingers.

Wei Shuyun walked up to him at some point and handed him a bottle of water.

"Here you go. It's in my backpack."

Zhang Yong took it, unscrewed it, and gulped down half the bottle.

"Thanks."

I'll get you a new hair clip later.

Wei Shuyun chuckled and looked down at her disheveled long hair.

"No need to pay. That hair clip is worth three cents. You saved my dad three cars tonight; you're worth millions."

She paused for a moment, then spoke even softer.

"And the shape you made actually looks quite nice, better than before."

Zhang Yong paused for a moment, looked down at the deformed hair clip in his hand, and didn't understand what those words meant.

Wei Dabiao's voice came from the Santana, sometimes loud and sometimes soft.

"Old Ma, yes, I really have no other choice. Yes! It's that dirt road."

"Stop asking! Just tell me if you'll lend it to me or not! We've known each other for so many years! Fine! Three packs of cigarettes! Zhonghua it is!!"

"Master Zhang! Got it! Old Ma said he'd deliver it in twenty minutes! Three buckets! Is that enough?"

"Enough!" Zhang Yong shouted, turning around.

He returned the water bottle to Wei Shuyun and walked towards the convoy. After taking two steps, he stopped, turned back, and said something.

"We need to investigate your dad, that Zhou from Xinda Auto Parts."

"This oil isn't just any ordinary counterfeit. The additives are of extremely poor quality."

"The damage to the engine is permanent. This oil is definitely not only used by your dad's family."

"Fortunately, it was discovered early this time, but it still damaged the engine to some extent, and its lifespan will definitely not be as long as before."

Wei Shuyun's smile vanished.

She watched Zhang Yong's back as he walked into the kerosene lamp's glow, and then squatted down with several workers to prepare to dispense the oil.

The figure was covered in mud and oil, and the white shirt was completely unrecognizable.

But for some reason, she thought that back view was more beautiful than the stars on TV.

In the distance, Smith silently packed away his toolbox.

The translator tentatively asked, "Mr. Smith, shouldn't we be leaving now?"

Smith paused for a few seconds, took off his gloves, and walked up to Zhang Yong.

He spoke a sentence in broken Chinese, his tone completely different from before.

"What's your name?"

Zhang Yong looked up and glanced at him.

"Zhang Yong".

Smith nodded and took a business card out of his pocket and handed it to him.

"If you need any imported parts in the future, you can contact me."

Zhang Yong took the business card, glanced at it, and stuffed it into his pocket.

When the oil was halfway filled, Old Ma's tricycle arrived.

They were carrying three brand-new barrels of Kunlun brand engine oil, and the paint on the metal barrels hadn't even been scratched off.

Change the oil, start the engine, and check.

The three Dongfeng trucks roared back to life, their sound much more steady than before.

"Let's go! Deliver the goods tonight!" Wei Dabiao jumped into the passenger seat, turned back to give Zhang Yong a thumbs up, and his eyes reddened again.

"Young Master Zhang! I'll come to thank you later! I'll treat you to Quanjude!"

"Honey! Can you see Xiao Zhang off for me?"

The convoy rumbled into the night, its headlights casting three long streaks of light on the dirt road before gradually disappearing into the distance.

Zhang Yong stood by the roadside, looking at the control panel.

[Auto Repair Lv.0 - Entry Level: 25%]

The day after tomorrow is the special driving test.

After the exam, he was going to the cotton mill to find Old Zhao and personally disassemble an engine.

Zhang Yong squeezed the business card in his pocket and the bent hair clip, then looked up at the starry sky.

In 1990, there was no smog in the suburbs of Beijing, and the Milky Way stretched clearly overhead.

Wei Shuyun pushed her old-fashioned bicycle over and stood next to him.

Neither of them spoke, and they just stood there for a while.

"Let's go, I'll take you home." Wei Shuyun patted the car seat.

Zhang Yong sighed, realizing how awkward the situation was. The two of them only had one bicycle, and the buses had long since stopped running.

"I'll take you home! Lend me your bike, I'll take you home first, and then I'll ride it back myself."

"I'll pedal, you just give me directions."

Wei Shuyun chuckled and turned over to sit in the back seat.

"I'll listen to you! Let's go, I'll show you the way!"

The old-fashioned motorcycle swayed and wobbled into the night, its wheels kicking up a small cloud of dust as it rolled over the dirt road.