Siheyuan: At the beginning, I can integrate everything!

"Bang!"

A dull thud echoed through the workshop.

Yi Zhonghai fell backward like a dead tree trunk.

Coincidentally.

The back of his head did not hit the flat cement ground.

Instead, it struck the corner of a metal box filled with scrap metal next to the control panel squarely.

"Holy crap!"

The apprentice who was closest to the worker was so frightened that he swore and instinctively took two steps back.

Yi Zhonghai's already pale face slid down the edge of the tin box.

The sharp sheet metal tore a long, bloody gash across his right cheek.

Blood mixed with black machine oil and dust from the iron box instantly smeared half of Yi Zhonghai's face.

Red, black, and white are intertwined.

Add to that his eyes rolling back and his lips trembling.

He looked exactly like a ridiculous clown in a circus who had been beaten up!

"Ouch—it looks painful."

The surrounding workers gasped in shock.

In the past, this "old man" would have even coughed once.

There would also be seven or eight apprentices who would serve tea and water and ask after his well-being.

But now?

The hundreds of people in the workshop just watched coldly as Yi Zhonghai lay sprawled next to the scrap metal box.

They looked at each other in bewilderment, and surprisingly, not a single person stepped forward to help them up!

"Go help him up. Aren't you his apprentice?"

An old fitter nudged a young worker next to him with his elbow.

The young worker's face stiffened, and he retreated repeatedly as if avoiding a plague, shaking his head like a rattle drum.

"I'm not going! Director Yang just declared his technology to be rubbish. If I go and help him, wouldn't that mean I'm just like him?"

"Exactly, he always acts like a big shot in front of us."

Another young worker echoed with a sneer.

"He was always cutting our apprentice subsidies. Now that he's fallen from grace, I'm already being lenient by not kicking him while he's down!"

this is the truth.

After Zhang Huaimin ruthlessly stripped away Yi Zhonghai's facade of being a "moral sage" and an "eighth-level master craftsman,"

His selfish, hypocritical, and technologically backward true colors have been completely exposed to everyone.

Right now, he's like a stinky rag covered in shit.

Anyone who gets involved with it will feel disgusted.

"Make way! Everyone move aside! Stop crowding around!"

After a while, two health workers from the factory clinic slowly pushed a dilapidated stretcher into the crowd.

They were also extremely reluctant to take on this arduous task.

"This old man is really heavy."

A medic pinched his nose and looked at Yi Zhonghai, whose face was covered in blood and engine oil, with disgust.

The two dragged it like a dead dog.

One person was holding onto one arm, and they weren't even willing to bend their waists.

They roughly dragged Yi Zhonghai from the ground onto a stretcher.

With a "thump".

Yi Zhonghai's body slammed heavily onto the hard wooden stretcher, causing his already disfigured old face to twitch again.

But his eyes remained tightly closed, as if he had fallen into a deep coma.

Only his slightly trembling eyelids betrayed the extreme shame, anger, and despair he felt at that moment.

He didn't want to wake up.

He would rather just stay unconscious forever.

Because he knew that as soon as he opened his eyes, he would be met with the ridicule and contempt of tens of thousands of people in the entire Red Star Factory.

He spent his entire life meticulously scheming and plotting.

As a result, all the honors, status, and dignity are concentrated on this day, at this moment.

It was trampled to pieces by a five-and-a-half-year-old toddler.

The medic pushed the stretcher out of the workshop gate amidst the workers' gloating gazes.

Watching Yi Zhonghai's miserable and pathetic departure.

Director Yang stood on the high platform, his face cold, showing not a trace of sympathy.

"Comrades!"

Factory Director Yang picked up a large tin megaphone, his voice loud and authoritative, echoing throughout the entire Workshop No. 1.

"Today's events should serve as a wake-up call for everyone!"

"At our Hongxing Steel Rolling Mill, in the face of the great cause of national industrial construction!"

"Any attempt to use old experience or seniority to deceive people, any attempt to hinder technological progress, any morally corrupt scourge!"

"They will all be ruthlessly eliminated!"

Director Yang's sharp gaze swept across the entire room before he delivered his final verdict.

"Yi Zhonghai's technical skills are severely outdated, and his moral character is corrupt, misleading young people!"

"I hereby declare!"

"Officially demote him to level two worker! Withhold six months' bonus!"

"Once he leaves the clinic, he must immediately report to the foundry workshop! He'll undergo the most basic level of labor reform!"

boom!

Demoted to Level 2 worker!

This verdict was like stepping on Yi Zhonghai's already shattered Grade 8 worker signboard with a studded leather boot!

He went from being a respected level eight expert to a lowly level two laborer.

Not to mention the precipitous drop in wages.

This disparity in his social status was more painful for him than being killed!

The workers erupted in thunderous applause and cheers.

"Director Yang is brilliant!"

"This old fogey who occupies the position but doesn't do anything should have been kicked out long ago!"

"Consultant Zhang is truly the pillar of our factory!"

Amidst this wave of jubilation and worship.

Zhang Huaimin stood quietly on the high platform in the workshop, arms crossed.

His deep, dark eyes, so unusual for his age, calmly watched the stretcher recede into the distance outside the gate.

"Is that all?"

A mocking sneer curled at the corner of Zhang Huaimin's mouth.

No.

This is just the beginning.

Which of these beasts in the compound isn't a master at sucking blood and ripping bones?

Stripping Yi Zhonghai of his power and status was merely cutting off his claws and teeth.

Next comes the real slow and painstaking process.

However, those were just pastimes for people living in the compound.

Zhang Huaimin's mind is no longer on this at all.

He turned around, and with his short legs, walked down from the platform amidst the awe-inspiring gazes of Director Yang and hundreds of workers.

Chen Bing followed closely behind him like an iron tower.

Zhang Huaimin walked out of the door of Workshop No. 1.

The cold winter wind blew in his face, but his body, which incorporated "absolute constant temperature constitution," felt no chill at all.

He stopped and his gaze fell on an open space outside the workshop.

There, piles of scrap metal, like small mountains, were stacked up.

Those were scrapped heavy bearings salvaged from heavy trucks and old tanks!

Each bearing was covered in black grease and exuded a heavy metallic smell.

Even the lightest one weighs over 100 pounds!

For ordinary workers, this thing requires a crane or three or four strong men to move it with difficulty.

Zhang Huaimin looked at these rusty, large iron blocks.

A glint of excitement suddenly flashed in his eyes.

"What I was doing in the workshop just now was all delicate work."

Zhang Huaimin twisted his neck, and his bones made a few extremely faint popping sounds.

Having incorporated so many body-strengthening traits, the violent power within him had long been difficult to suppress.

"It's time to stretch our muscles."

Zhang Huaimin strode forward and walked straight toward the pile of discarded bearings.