Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

After the training course announcement was sent out, telegrams of applications poured in like snowflakes. The first batch was only to recruit twenty people, but more than a hundred people applied. Jiang Cheng reviewed them one by one and selected twenty young people with a foundation in the subject and a willingness to learn.

On the opening day of the first training course, the conference room was packed with people. Twenty young people, the oldest thirty and the youngest twenty-two, had come from all over the province, some having traveled for more than ten hours by train. They wore all sorts of work clothes, some clean, some stained with oil, but their eyes were all bright.

Jiang Cheng stood on the podium, looking at the young faces below, and suddenly remembered how he felt when he first went to a training course in the provincial capital. Back then, he was just like that, sitting in the audience, listening to others lecture, feeling uneasy.

"Everyone," he said, "my name is Jiang Cheng, and I am the deputy director and chief engineer of our center. Starting today, you will be studying here for three months. After three months, you will return to your respective factories and teach what you have learned to more people."

He paused, then glanced around at the audience.

"I don't expect everyone to get high scores. I only ask that each of you, when you go back, be able to fix at least one machine. Just one will do."

Some people in the audience laughed, while others whispered among themselves.

"What are you laughing at?" Jiang Cheng's face darkened, and he continued, "One machine may not sound like much, but twenty people make twenty machines. How much money can be saved by fixing twenty machines? How many workers can have an easier workload? Have you calculated that?"

The audience fell silent.

"So," Jiang Cheng said, "don't underestimate yourselves. Each of you is capable of great things."

Huang Deqing sat in the last row, listening to Jiang Cheng speak, his face full of satisfaction.

While the training courses were underway, the daily work of the promotion center continued uninterrupted. Jiang Cheng lectured during the day, handled technical issues from various factories in the afternoon, and wrote proposals and revised papers in the evening. Huang Deqing, along with Sun Deming and Lao Zhao, visited each factory to provide on-site guidance for equipment modifications.

Time flies. Before we knew it, it was August, the hottest time of year in Shenyang.

That afternoon, Jiang Cheng was demonstrating coating operations to his students in the lab when there was a knock at the door. Sun Deming ran out to open it, then ran back, pale-faced: "Brother Jiang, something's happened!"

Jiang Cheng put down his tools: "What is it?"

"The mine called and said the ball mill has broken down again! And it's even worse than last time!"

Jiang Cheng's heart sank.

He modified the ball mill himself, so how come it broke down so soon? He wiped his hands, strode to his office, and picked up the phone.

"Director Sun, what's going on?"

On the other end of the phone, Factory Manager Sun's voice was urgent: "Master Jiang, this afternoon when we turned on the machine, the spindle suddenly jammed. We took it apart and found that the bearings were burned out and the spindle was worn out. You need to come and take a look right away!"

Jiang Cheng hung up the phone and turned to Huang Deqing, saying, "Master, something's happened at the mine. You need to come with me."

Huang Deqing was wiping his scraper when he heard this. He put down the scraper, stood up, and said, "Let's go."

The two men rode their bicycles towards the mine. August in Shenyang was scorching hot, like a sauna. The asphalt road was softened by the heat, and the bicycle wheels hissed as they rolled over it. The leaves of the sycamore trees along the roadside drooped, as if scorched. The air was thick with the smell of asphalt, making it hard to breathe.

It was already evening when they arrived at the mine. Director Sun was waiting at the workshop entrance, his face ashen. Several technicians stood beside him, heads bowed, not daring to speak.

"Master Jiang, take a look." Factory Director Sun led him into the workshop.

The ball mill had stopped; its massive cylinder lay there like a dead beast. The workshop was dark, with only a few lights on, casting huge shadows on the machines. The air was thick with the acrid smell of iron ore and burnt lubricating oil, making one's throat tighten.

Jiang Cheng squatted down and shone a flashlight on the spindle. There was a deep scratch on the journal surface, even deeper than before, and you could feel a clear groove when you touched it. The bearing was burnt out, and the balls were scattered all over the floor, some of them turned bluish-purple.

"Master, please take a look." Jiang Cheng stepped aside.

Huang Deqing squatted down, touched the journal with his hand, and smelled the lubricating oil. He stood up, walked to the oil tank, opened the cap, and shone a flashlight on it.

"Chengzi, look at this." He pointed to the bottom of the fuel tank.

Jiang Cheng leaned closer to take a look. There was a layer of black sediment at the bottom of the fuel tank; when rubbed between his fingers, it turned out to be fine metallic powder.

"Is the filter clogged?" he asked.

Huang Deqing nodded: "The filter is clogged, the lubricating oil isn't circulating, the bearing is dry-gripping, no wonder it burns out."

Jiang Cheng stood up, walked to the filter, and disassembled it. Sure enough, the filter element was clogged with impurities, and the stainless steel mesh on the surface was torn in several places, like a ripped wound.

"Director Sun," he turned around, "during the last upgrade, I added a high-precision filter. This filter needs to be cleaned regularly; have you cleaned it?"

Factory Director Sun paused for a moment, then looked at the technician beside him. The technician, head bowed, whispered, "No. We thought once it was installed, we wouldn't have to worry about it anymore."

Jiang Cheng took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. He knew that getting angry would be useless.

The problem isn't with technology, it's with people, with people's mindset.

"Director Sun," he said, "this isn't a problem with the machines, it's a management problem. No matter how good the equipment is, it will break down sooner or later if it's not maintained."

Factory Director Sun blushed: "Master Jiang, it was our oversight. What should we do now?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment: "Replace the bearings first. Repair the worn areas on the spindle with a coating process. Try to get the machine running within three days."

"Okay! Okay!" Factory Manager Sun nodded repeatedly. "Just tell me what you need!"

"We need one thing." Jiang Cheng looked at him, his tone tinged with reproach. "We need your factory to establish an equipment maintenance system. Every machine needs to be inspected daily, maintained weekly, and overhauled monthly. Just repairing without maintenance is a waste of time."

Factory Director Sun paused for a moment, then nodded: "Okay, I'll have them do it."

It was already dark when they left the mine. Jiang Cheng and Huang Deqing rode their bicycles in silence. Streetlights swept overhead one after another, casting their shadows long and short. A train passed in the distance, its whistle echoing through the night, long and desolate.

"Chengzi," Huang Deqing suddenly spoke up, "Why don't these people know how to take care of their machines?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment: "It's not that they don't cherish them, it's that they don't know how. They don't know why the machines break down, or how to prevent them from breaking down. Our job is not only to repair the machines, but also to teach them how to maintain them."

Huang Deqing nodded: "You're right."

The two rode to the factory gate and stopped. Huang Deqing got off the bike, stood under the streetlight, and looked at Jiang Cheng.