Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

On the table lay a thick stack of letters requesting assistance from various factories. The top one was from the First Automobile Works of Changchun, stamped with an urgent stamp in bright red, quite conspicuous. Han Zhiguo sat down, took off his glasses, and wiped the lenses with the corner of his shirt. His glasses were the old-fashioned black-rimmed kind, with thick lenses; he had to be very careful when wiping them, otherwise fingerprints would be left, and he'd have to do it all over again.

"Jiang Cheng, Sun Deming is a man who can be given more responsibility."

Jiang Cheng sat opposite him, looking at the stack of documents on the table. Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the documents and making the edges of the papers gleam. He reached out and picked up the top document, flipped it over, and saw that the date under the urgent stamp was three days ago.

"Director Han, what do you want him to do?"

"FAW in Changchun called again, saying there's another problem with one of their production lines. The workshop you visited last time resolved it, but there's another old line in the workshop next door, even older and with more problems. The equipment was imported from East Germany in the early 1970s, and it's been used for almost fifteen years. Its precision has deteriorated drastically, and the scrap rate has reached 25%. The factory has been working on it for half a year, and they've invited two groups of experts to come and take a look. They all said the equipment is too old and suggested upgrading it. But upgrading one line costs more than five million yuan, and the factory can't afford that much." Han Zhiguo paused, put on his glasses, and said, "I'd like Sun Deming to lead the team."

Jiang Cheng remained silent for a while. He had visited the FAW production line in Changchun; the equipment was older than that at the diesel engine factory, and the problems were more complex. The machining center on that line was made in East Germany, and the hydraulic and electrical systems were outdated. Many parts had long been discontinued, and if they broke down, they could only be repaired themselves; new ones couldn't be bought. He wasn't sure if Sun Deming could handle it alone. But he knew Han Zhiguo was right—a person only knows how much they can endure when they can't bear it anymore. This principle was taught to him by Huang Deqing, and now he wanted to teach it to Sun Deming.

"Director Han, let him go. But I have one request."

"you say."

"Let him bring two people, chosen from the training courses. They need to have some basic knowledge and be willing to learn. I'll help him review the plans, but I won't go with him. He has to deal with those people and solve those problems himself. If there are any problems, he'll have to take responsibility for them."

Han Zhiguo nodded and made a note in his notebook. His handwriting was very small, each stroke neat and precise, as if it were engraved.

"There's one more thing," he put down his pen, crossing his hands on the table, "Orders from all over the country are coming in more and more, and we don't have enough manpower. I want to recruit another batch of people, not on temporary assignments, but through formal recruitment. We need to recruit experienced technical staff from each factory who can start working immediately. I've roughly calculated that we need at least ten more people to process the backlog of orders."

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment. Ten people—not too many, not too few. But recruiting isn't just about hiring people and then leaving it at that; you have to train them, mentor them, and make sure they can do the work.

"Director Han, hiring is fine. But we can't just hire experienced people. We also need to hire young people, fresh out of school, with a good educational background, who can learn quickly. We can't just look at the present; we have to look at the future."

Han Zhiguo looked at him, his gaze unreadable. He took off his glasses, placed them on the table, and rubbed the bridge of his nose, where the lenses had left two red marks. "You mean, you want to train him yourself?"

"Yes. We cultivate talent from the ground up. We recruit them and teach them from the basics, one by one. Just like Master Huang taught me, we teach them step by step. We teach them to recognize each part and to touch each machine. They may not be able to do much work in the first year, but in the second or third year, they will be the backbone."

Han Zhiguo was silent for a while, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. He tapped very slowly, one tap at a time, as if he were calculating a complicated account.

"Your idea is right. But it takes time. Young people can't get ahead in three to five years, but the work at hand can't wait."

"Then let's take a two-pronged approach. We'll hire a group of experienced people to handle the immediate tasks. We'll hire a group of young people, train them, and handle the future tasks. Director Han, you're in charge of administration, so you have the final say on hiring, but when it comes to training people, you have to listen to me."

Han Zhiguo paused for a moment, then smiled. The smile wasn't deep, but it was genuine, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes crinkling together.

"Okay. I'll do as you say. I'll handle the recruitment, and you take care of the training. Let's divide the work and neither of us will hold the other back."

Jiang Cheng stood up, walked to the door, then stopped, turned back and said, "Director Han, I'll talk to Sun Deming about his trip to Changchun. Don't look for him, I'll talk to him."

Han Zhiguo nodded, put his glasses back on, and lowered his head to continue reading the documents. The pen nib scratched across the paper, making a soft, hissing sound like autumn leaves.

When Jiang Cheng found Sun Deming, he was in the lab teaching a trainee how to adjust equipment. The trainee was from Fushun, surnamed Zhao, about twenty-five or twenty-six years old. He had worked in the mine for five years and had no problem operating the equipment, but his theoretical foundation was poor. He couldn't read the blueprints and couldn't even use a vernier caliper properly.

Sun Deming squatted in front of the equipment, holding blueprints in his hand, pointing to the symbols on them and explaining them one by one. He spoke slowly and patiently, a stark contrast to the impetuous Sun Deming of the past.

In the past, when he taught, he would get impatient if the student didn't understand after the first explanation, raising his voice and turning red in the face. Now, he's less impatient. If the student doesn't understand after the first explanation, he'll explain it a second time; if they still don't understand after the second, he'll explain it a third time, until the student nods in agreement.

Jiang Cheng stood at the doorway, watched for a while, but didn't go in. He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets, listening to Sun Deming's voice coming from the laboratory. "This is the roughness symbol. Look at this triangle. What does one triangle represent? Roughing. Two triangles represent semi-finishing. Three triangles represent finishing. Remember, the more triangles, the smoother the surface." The student's voice came through, low, as if afraid of disturbing someone. "Master Sun, what about this? What does the horizontal line above this circle mean?" "That's the datum symbol. The datum is the surface you refer to when measuring. You see here, it's marked Datum A, meaning you measure other dimensions using this surface as the datum."

After the trainees left, Jiang Cheng went inside.

The lab smelled of machine oil and metal mixed with the odor of cleaning agents; it was stuffy, like a room that hadn't had its windows opened in a long time. The coating equipment in the corner was still humming, its indicator lights flashing, the red glow jumping around in the dim room. Jiang Cheng pulled over a stool, sat down, and the stool leg creaked.

"Deming, there's a job in Changchun. You'll lead the team there."