Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

Master Zhang laughed again, but then suddenly stopped. He picked up his enamel mug, took a big gulp, and wiped his mouth.

"Master Jiang, I've been in this business for thirty years. I've repaired countless machines. But I don't know how to teach others. I only know how to do it myself. Since you came, I've learned. Not just how to repair machines, but how to teach others to repair them." He looked at Jiang Cheng, his eyes shining. "Thank you."

Jiang Cheng wanted to say something, but his throat felt like it was blocked by something. He picked up his enamel mug, clinked it against Master Zhang's, and drank it all in one gulp.

The liquor was strong, but my heart was warm.

After spending nearly a month in Liuhe, Jiang Cheng, along with Sun Deming and Wang Xiaojun, repaired all the major equipment in the factory. They went through each machine—lathes, milling machines, planers, punching machines—disassembling and inspecting them one by one, fixing what needed fixing and replacing what needed replacing.

For every machine repaired, the factory workers were instructed to learn alongside them. From disassembly to assembly, from inspection to debugging, every step was explained clearly.

The workers studied very diligently. Some took notes in notebooks, some drew diagrams on the ground with chalk, and some practiced in the workshop even after work in the evening.

Looking at the resolute eyes on their faces, Jiang Cheng couldn't help but feel moved. Although people in this era lacked material comforts, their spirits were full of vitality and vigor, and they were full of longing for the future.

The most hardworking person was a young man named Liu Tiezhu, who was only 21 years old, had graduated from junior high school, and had worked in the factory for three years. He was not a fast learner, but he was very down-to-earth. If he didn't understand a problem, he would ask it seven or eight times until he understood it.

One evening, Jiang Cheng was organizing his notes in his dormitory when Liu Tiezhu knocked on the door and came in. He was holding a notebook, which he opened to reveal a structural diagram of a punch press clutch.

"Master Jiang, do you think my drawing is correct?"

Jiang Cheng took it and looked at it. The drawing was rough, but the key parts were drawn, and the dimensions were marked.

"Yes. Did you draw this?"

"Yes. We draw as we disassemble, and we modify as we assemble."

Jiang Cheng looked at him and suddenly felt that this young man resembled someone. Who did he resemble? His mentor from his youth, Huang Deqing.

"Tiezhu, would you like to learn more?"

"I want to," Liu Tiezhu nodded, "but I'm slow and learn slowly."

"Being slow isn't scary. What's scary is not learning at all."

Liu Tiezhu stood there, clutching a notebook in his hand, his eyes shining.

"Master Jiang, could you please take me on as your apprentice?"

Jiang Cheng was taken aback. Taking on apprentices? He had never thought about that. Did he have any apprentices? Wang Xiaojun was one, and Sun Deming was half an apprentice. But he had never formally accepted anyone as an apprentice.

Why did you decide to become my apprentice?

"Because you were willing to teach. Not just any kind of teaching, but teaching you step by step." Liu Tiezhu lowered his head. "I've worked in this factory for three years, and no one has ever taught me. I had to learn by watching, and if I made a mistake, I got scolded. No one told me why I was wrong or how to correct it."

Jiang Cheng was silent for a moment. Then he said, "Okay. I'll take you in. But there's one condition."

"What are the conditions?"

"You must promise me that when you learn it, you will teach others. You can't keep it to yourself."

Liu Tiezhu raised his head and nodded vigorously.

Jiang Cheng took a book called "Fundamentals of Mechanical Engineering" out of the drawer and handed it to him. He had brought this book from Shenyang, and it had been read many times; the edges were even curled.

"Read this book first. Ask me if you don't understand it."

Liu Tiezhu took the book, holding it in his hands as if it were a piece of gold. He bowed, turned, and ran. Reaching the door, he nearly tripped over the threshold, stumbled, steadied himself, and continued running.

Sun Deming lay on the opposite bed, watching everything unfold without saying a word. After Liu Tiezhu left, he turned over to face Jiang Cheng.

"Brother Jiang, you really took him on as your apprentice?"

"Take it."

"Can you handle all of them? Wang Xiaojun, Liu Tiezhu, and me—can you manage?"

Jiang Cheng looked at him: "When did you become my apprentice?"

Sun Deming chuckled: "Aren't I your apprentice? I've been learning from you for so long, don't I count as your apprentice?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment: "You can do it, but you don't need me to teach you."

Why?

"Because you can learn on your own," Jiang Cheng said. "The highest level of being a master is not teaching a good apprentice, but having an apprentice who doesn't need to be taught anymore."

Sun Deming paused for a moment, then laughed. He turned over, facing the wall, and fell silent. But Jiang Cheng heard him laughing in bed, the blanket twitching as if he were doing something shady.

The day before leaving Liuhe, Sun Desheng treated Jiang Cheng to dinner. It was still in the canteen, at the same two tables, but there were two more dishes than last time—a braised fish and a bowl of pork stew with vermicelli. The fish was bought by someone from the riverbank, and the vermicelli was dried at home.

Sun Desheng stood up, holding a wine glass, his face flushed red.

"Master Jiang, this glass is for you. You've been here for a month and saved our factory. We didn't know what technology was before, but now we do. We didn't know what hope was before, but now we do too."

Jiang Cheng stood up, picked up his glass, and wanted to say something. But looking at the faces of those people—Master Zhang, Liu Tiezhu, and the workers whose names he didn't know—he suddenly felt that nothing he said would be enough. He drank his wine.

"Director Sun," he put down his cup, "I have something to tell you."

"you say."

"Wang Xiaojun wants to stay. He wants to work at your factory for a while."

Sun Desheng paused for a moment, then nodded vigorously: "Great! Great! Welcome! We're short of technicians. He can work as long as he wants!"

Jiang Cheng glanced at Wang Xiaojun. Wang Xiaojun sat in the corner, head down, ears red.

"Xiao Jun, you talk to Factory Director Sun yourself."

Wang Xiaojun stood up, his face flushed red, his voice trembling slightly: "Director Sun, I want to stay. But let me make this clear first, I need to study tonight to prepare for my university entrance exams. You can't let me down."

Sun Desheng laughed: "It won't delay you! Studying is a good thing! Our factory has never produced a college student before. If you get accepted, it will be an honor for the whole factory!"

Wang Xiaojun grinned. It was the first time Jiang Cheng had ever seen him smile so happily.

The next morning, Jiang Cheng and Sun Deming boarded a long-distance bus back to Shenyang. Wang Xiaojun stayed in Liuhe to see them off at the station. As the bus started moving, he stood by the roadside and waved. Jiang Cheng leaned out of the window and waved back.

As the car drove away, Wang Xiaojun's figure grew smaller and smaller until it became a dot and disappeared into the dust.

Sun Deming leaned against the car window, looking out.

"Brother Jiang, how long do you think Xiaojun will stay in Liuhe?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment: "I don't know. Maybe a year, maybe two. Maybe I'll stay for a lifetime."

"A lifetime?" Sun Deming turned his head. "Is such a small factory worth spending a lifetime in?"