Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

The man took it, flipped through it, and handed it to the person next to him. The person next to him took it and looked at it page by page, very slowly.

"And another thing," the man asked, "have you issued any certificates for your training? Who issued them? Are they on file?"

Jiang Cheng was taken aback. A certificate? He had never considered issuing certificates. Training was training; once you learned it, you learned it. What was the point of a certificate?

"There are no certificates," he said. "We only teach the skills, we don't issue certificates."

The man frowned slightly: "No certificates? How do we prove the trainees have passed the training?"

"No proof is needed," Jiang Cheng said. "Whether they can fix the machine after they go back is the best proof."

The man looked at him, his gaze unreadable. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Comrade Jiang Cheng, you're right. But rules are rules. Without certificates and registration, it's not considered formal training. You need to rectify this issue."

Jiang Cheng remained silent. He knew that reasoning with these people was pointless. They weren't bad people; they were simply enforcing the rules. Rules are rigid, but people are flexible.

But sometimes, dealing with a rigid system is more troublesome for a living person than dealing with a bad person.

Stepping out of the hall, Jiang Cheng stood at the doorway, watching the cars and people passing by on the street. The sunlight was bright, casting patches of shadow on the gray buildings. He took a deep breath; the air smelled of car exhaust mingled with the aroma of fried dough sticks from the roadside stalls—it was hard to tell whether it was pleasant or unpleasant.

He walked towards the bus stop. After a few steps, he stopped. He didn't want to go back to the center. Going back meant sitting in that cramped lab, staring at those machines, his mind filled with words like "certificate," "registration," and "rectification." He turned into a narrow alley and walked aimlessly. The alley was narrow, lined with old residential buildings. Several small shops were on the ground floor, their entrances piled high with cardboard boxes and beer bottles. A few old women sat on small stools, basking in the sun. They glanced up at him as he approached, then looked down again and continued chatting.

He walked for a long time until he reached a river. The river wasn't wide, but the water was murky and littered with trash. Willow trees lined both banks, their branches drooping to the water's surface, already green and tender, as if freshly washed. He stood by the river for a while, watching the willow branches sway in the wind, and suddenly remembered what Huang Deqing had said: "Some things aren't as you wish them to be."

He turned around and walked back.

It was already afternoon when they returned to the center. In the lab, Sun Deming was coating a landing gear, with Wang Xiaojun helping him by handing over tools and adjusting parameters. Huang Deqing was squatting in a corner, sharpening a scraper. Everything was the same as before, but he knew that some things were different.

He walked into the temporary office, sat down, took out his notebook, and began writing a rectification plan. How to issue certificates, how to complete the filing, how to establish systems—he wrote it down point by point until his hand ached.

Halfway through writing, Wang Xiaojun walked in, holding a glass of water.

"Master, have some water."

Jiang Cheng took it and took a sip. The water was warm, with tea leaves in it, and it tasted a little bitter.

"Xiaojun, how's your exam preparation going?"

"It's alright. I've finished the math section and am halfway through the physics section." Wang Xiaojun hesitated for a moment, then said, "Master, there's something I'd like to tell you."

"Speak."

"I...I want to enroll in a tutoring class. There are night schools in the city that specialize in tutoring workers for their university entrance exams. But it costs fifteen yuan."

Jiang Cheng put down his pen and looked at him. Wang Xiaojun blushed, lowered his head, and dared not look at him.

"Fifteen yuan, I have it." Jiang Cheng took out the money from his pocket, counted out fifteen yuan, and handed it to him.

"Master, I can't take your money—"

"Take it." Jiang Cheng stuffed the money into his hand. "Pay me back when you get into university and start earning money."

Wang Xiaojun clutched the few banknotes, his eyes reddening. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but nothing came out. He bowed deeply, turned, and ran away.

Jiang Cheng watched his retreating figure and smiled. Then he lowered his head and continued writing.

Days passed. The second batch of landing gear was completed even faster than the first, finishing in less than two months. Chief Engineer Zhao personally came to inspect it, checking each piece one by one, and they all passed. He shook Jiang Cheng's hand and said, "Comrade Jiang Cheng, the military asked me to convey their gratitude. This batch of spare parts solved a major problem."

Jiang Cheng wanted to say "Of course," but the words that came out were: "Chief Engineer Zhao, could you help me inquire about the review process at our center?"

Chief Engineer Zhao paused for a moment, then sighed: "I've already inquired. The ministry is also coordinating. But this matter falls under the jurisdiction of the local government, and the ministry can't get involved. You'll have to wait a little longer."

Wait a little longer. Wait again.

Chief Engineer Zhao left. Jiang Cheng stood in the courtyard, watching his car disappear into the alleyway. Sunlight shone into the empty courtyard; a few fallen leaves lay on the ground, swirling in the wind before settling down again. The poplar leaves had fully grown, lush and green, rustling in the wind.

He turned and walked into the laboratory, squatting down next to Huang Deqing.

"Master, how much longer do you think we can hold out?"

Huang Deqing was sharpening a drill bit, not even looking up: "Hold on until you can't hold on any longer."

"What if we can't hold on?"

Huang Deqing put down the drill bit and looked at him: "Chengzi, do you know why I've never left this factory?"

Jiang Cheng shook his head.

"Because as long as I don't leave, there will still be people in this factory. If I leave, there will really be no one left." He picked up the drill bit and continued grinding. "It's the same at the center. As long as you're here, there will still be people. If you leave, it will really fall apart."

Jiang Cheng squatted there, looking at his master's hands. Those hands were covered in calluses, with large joints, and black grime always embedded in the nail crevices. But those hands were very steady, and the drill bits they ground were as precise as those from a machine.

"Master, I'm not leaving," he said.

Huang Deqing didn't say anything and continued grinding the drill bit.

That evening, Jiang Cheng returned home to find Zheng Yanxi packing her things. She was going to the city hospital for a three-month intensive care unit training program the next day, living in the hospital dormitory and returning home once a week.

"Have you brought everything?" he asked.

"I've got everything." She pointed to a canvas bag on the ground. "Clothes, books, toothbrush, towel. That's all."

Jiang Cheng looked at the bag and thought it was a bit small. He squatted down, unzipped it, and rummaged through it. Inside were a few changes of clothes, a book on emergency medicine, an enamel mug, and a pair of cloth shoes.

"Bring a pair of warm shoes. It's cold in the emergency room at night."

"No need. The hospital has heating."

"Take it with you." He went into the bedroom, took out a pair of cotton shoes from the closet, and stuffed them into his bag.

Zheng Yanxi looked at him without saying a word. She picked Jiang Yuan up; the little guy was already sleepy, his eyes were half-closed, his head was resting on her shoulder, and he had a finger in his mouth.

"Jiang Yuan, Mommy's leaving now. Say goodbye to Mommy." She took the little guy's hand and shook it.