Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

"Let's begin then."

The first blade was secured to the fixture. The fixture, designed by Sun Deming, was made of aluminum alloy and painted black; the clamping force could be adjusted via a knob. Sun Deming personally inserted the blade into the fixture, tightened the knob, and checked it again to ensure it wouldn't loosen. He then ran his finger along the base of the blade to confirm there were no scratches.

"Brother Jiang, it's done."

Jiang Cheng walked to the control cabinet and looked at the buttons on the control panel. Xiao Ma stood beside him, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, waiting for his instructions. Huang Deqing stood up from the corner, walked to the workbench, and stood there without squatting down, his hands in his pockets. He wasn't holding an oilstone or a scraper; he just stood there. Chief Engineer Chen retreated to the laboratory doorway, leaning against the doorframe, her notebook open, a pen between her fingers. Her position allowed her to see the entire spraying process without blocking the light.

"Begin," Jiang Cheng signaled.

Xiao Ma pressed the Enter key. The robotic arm hummed, its sound deeper than usual, as if it were holding back a burst of energy. The spray gun ignited, and flames shot out, blindingly white, seemingly raising the temperature in the lab by several degrees instantly. Beads of sweat began to trickle down Jiang Cheng's forehead, but he didn't wipe them away. The ventilation ducts hummed even louder, as if struggling to draw away the heat, emitting a low whistling sound. The robotic arm moved along the preset trajectory, the spray gun sweeping back and forth across the blade surface, one layer, two layers, three layers. The powder was fed into the flame, melting instantly, striking the blade surface and producing a fine crackling sound, like raindrops hitting a tin roof, or someone frying beans.

Jiang Cheng stared intently at the robotic arm, not daring to blink. His fingers tapped lightly along the seam of his trousers, counting the number of times the spray gun moved. Once, twice, three times. The time taken for each coat was different; the first coat was the fastest, the second slightly slower, and the third the slowest. This was a pattern he had discovered through hundreds of experiments, written down in his notebook, etched into his mind, and finally imprinted on his fingers.

The spraying was finished. The robotic arm returned to its original position, the spray gun shut off with a "whoosh" sound, like a sigh. The temperature in the laboratory slowly dropped, and the noise from the ventilation ducts also subsided.

After the leaves cooled, Jiang Cheng and others clamped them and placed them under a specially made microscope.

He adjusted the focus, and the image went from blurry to clear. The coating surface was smooth, without any graininess, bubbles, or cracks. The edges of the air film pores were clean, showing no signs of blockage. He moved the stage and inspected different parts of the blade—the underside, the base, the leading edge, and the trailing edge—each one was satisfactory. The coating thickness on the underside was uniform, there was no buildup at the curved transition of the base, the thin-walled sections of the leading edge were not deformed, and the sharp edges of the trailing edge were not chipped.

"Surface condition is acceptable. All air film pores are clear." His voice was calm, but his hands were trembling. He gripped his right wrist with his left hand to steady himself.

Chief Engineer Chen walked over from the doorway and glanced at the microscope. Her reading glasses perched on her nose, and her eyes behind the lenses were narrowed to slits. She straightened up, picked up the blade, examined it against the light, and then ran her fingers over the coating surface. Her fingers were thin, with prominent knuckles, and her nails were cut very short; the fingerprints on her fingertips had been worn away by the chemicals.

"Send it for a bonding strength test. No destructive testing, use ultrasound." She turned to look at Jiang Cheng. "If the ultrasound is satisfactory, this blade will be placed on the thermal cycling test bench."

Jiang Cheng nodded.

The ultrasound results would take two hours. During those two hours, he did nothing. He sat on a stool in the lab, staring at the graph on the wall, the red and blue lines interwoven against a white background like a net. He looked at it for a long time, but couldn't absorb anything.

He recognized every single line, from the first to the last, drawing and erasing, erasing and drawing again, dozens of times. But now, looking at them, his mind was blank.

Sun Deming squatted in the corner, speaking quietly to Huang Deqing. Sun Deming said, "Master Huang, do you think it will work this time?" Huang Deqing didn't answer, but after a few seconds said, "It will work." Sun Deming asked again, "How do you know?" Huang Deqing said, "Because everything that needed to be done has been done. Once it's done, there's no need to think about it anymore."

"What kind of answer is this?" Sun Deming thought to himself, "I might as well not ask anymore."

The process of waiting for the results is nerve-wracking and tedious, and the best way to pass the time is to rest.

Xiao Ma was asleep, his head resting on the table, the keyboard under his arm, the cursor on the screen blinking. His glasses were askew on his nose, his mouth was slightly open, and he was breathing very softly.

Two hours passed. The inspector walked in with a report and handed it to Chief Engineer Chen. His shoes were wet, leaving a trail of light gray footprints on the lab floor. Chief Engineer Chen opened it, looked at it for a few seconds, and then closed it.

"qualified."

There was a moment of silence in the lab. Then Sun Deming jumped up from the floor and shouted "Good!" in a loud voice, startling Xiao Ma awake. Xiao Ma groggily raised his head, his glasses askew on his nose, and asked, "What's wrong?" Sun Deming said, "You passed." Xiao Ma paused for a moment, then laughed, his eyes narrowing into slits. He stood up from the stool, tripped over the stool leg, and stumbled.

Huang Deqing stood up from the corner, stretched his back, and his bones cracked a few times. He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and slowly exhaled. The smoke dispersed under the light, grayish-white, and was sucked into the ventilation duct before it could form a ball, leaving a trail of light and shadow.

He took two puffs, then stubbed out the cigarette and placed it on the windowsill, saving it for later.

Chief Engineer Chen handed the report to Jiang Cheng. "This is only the first piece. There are four more to go. Once they're all sprayed, we need to do a thermal cycling test on them all. Only if they all pass the test will we be finished."

Jiang Cheng took the report, glanced at it, closed it, and placed it on the table. "Continue tomorrow."

That evening, Jiang Cheng returned to the guesthouse and called Zheng Yanxi. The phone rang twice before she answered; her voice was lighter than usual.

"Yanxi, the first real leaf has been sprayed today, and it passed the test."

"Congratulations." She paused, and there was a soft rustling of pages turning on the other end of the phone. "Jiang Yuan today..." she suddenly chuckled, "Guess what he did?"

"What did you do?"

"I was washing dishes in the kitchen this afternoon when I heard a 'bang' in the living room. I ran out to check and found that he had opened your toolbox. Wrenches, screwdrivers, pliers—he took them out one by one and laid them all out on the floor. He picked up a wrench and twisted it a few times against a stool leg, making 'whoosh whoosh whoosh' noises. He was imitating how you fix machines."

Jiang Cheng laughed. "Which wrench is he holding?"

"The biggest one. It took him two hands to lift it, and it wobbled precariously. He took one step with the wrench in his hand, almost fell, steadied himself, and took two more steps."