Returning to 1949, I decided to hand it over to the state.

Jiang Daiji was taken aback by what he was being said, and with a frown, he began to recall the events seriously.

Iron pillar...

There seems to be such a person in the area next door.

He is literate, has good technical skills, and speaks more politely than the average older worker.

Last year, the Shenyang gunpowder factory was short-staffed, and some people were indeed transferred to Shenyang for construction work.

As for his son...

Jiang Daiji squinted, the more he thought about it, the more vaguely it seemed like there was such a thing.

I think... I heard someone mention that Tie Zhu's son is rarely home, always running around outside, he's literate, and he's seen a bit of the world.

He wasn't the type to hold a grudge, but after comparing the two sides in his mind, he was actually somewhat swayed by Jiang Fan's nonsense.

"Hiss..." Jiang Daiji raised his hand to scratch the back of his head and smacked his lips.

"Now that you mention it... I do remember something. There is an iron pillar over next door."

Jiang Fan felt a sense of relief and almost bowed to him on the spot.

Jiang Daiji continued to stare at him, his tone still carrying a hint of hesitation:

"His son, I heard, is away from home most of the time and rarely comes home... Are you really his son?"

"How could it be fake!" Jiang Fan slapped his thigh, looking excited that he had finally been remembered.

"My feet are blistered from all this journey back. If it weren't for the Ansteel recruitment drive and my desire to contribute to the country, would I have gone through all this trouble?"

These words softened the expressions of the people in the room somewhat.

These days, saying other things may not be effective, but words like "come back to build Ansteel" and "contribute to the country" carry real weight.

Jiang Daiji glanced at him twice more.

strangeness.

really weird.

Although the face was still unfamiliar, the more I looked at it, the stronger that inexplicable sense of familiarity became.

The young man's manner of speaking and the way he looked at people reminded him of his own son.

He hesitated for two seconds, then finally nodded to Chief Li:

"Sir, if he really is the young man from Tiezhu's family next door, then... that makes sense. That family is literate, unlike us roughnecks. It's not surprising that their children are running around outside."

This statement serves as a kind of official confirmation.

The invisible tension in the conference room finally eased.

Chief Li grunted in response, his face revealing little emotion, and simply waved his hand.

"Alright, Lao Jiang, you can go back and get busy now. I'm sorry to have kept you up all this time."

"Hey! No problem, no problem!" Jiang Daiji quickly replied and turned to leave.

As he reached the door, he paused, turned back, and glanced at Jiang Fan again.

"How has your father been these past few years?" he asked.

Jiang Fan paused for a moment, then quickly nodded: "That's good, that's good, but I keep thinking about home and Ansteel."

"That's good." Jiang Daiji grinned, revealing a somewhat simple and honest smile.

"When you're done with work, come over for a visit sometime. You know my neighborhood, right?"

Jiang Fan quickly replied with a smile, "Of course I admit it, I'll definitely go back later."

"Okay." Jiang Daiji nodded, then turned and went out.

Jiang Fan stood there, his heart still pounding in his chest, and it took him a long time to calm down.

Old revolutionaries are really not easy to fool.

But for some reason, more than the relief of surviving the ordeal, he felt a strange, inexplicable feeling.

What does that feeling resemble?

It's like you're meeting someone for the first time, but you feel like you've known them for decades because of a certain gesture, a certain word, or a certain look in their eyes.

Chief Li had already returned to the table and sat down, picked up his teacup and took a sip, finally putting aside the matter of his identity for the time being.

"Okay." He put the jar down and looked up at Jiang Fan.

"Let's not go into too much detail about your background. At least you're not talking nonsense."

Someone inside chuckled softly.

Jiang Fan chuckled dryly, though his back was still wet.

"However," Chief Li changed the subject, "whether someone is capable or not isn't something you can just talk about."

What does this mean? Are they testing people again after just checking their background?

Jiang Fan dared not be negligent and straightened his back slightly.

Chief Li reached out and pushed a stack of documents off the table:

"Didn't you say you understand English, can read blueprints, and can repair machines? Perfect timing, the factory's been stuck on a problem lately, it's stumped everyone. If you really have some skills, show them to us."

A bespectacled technical staff member immediately stood up and handed Jiang Fan several drawings, a small booklet of instructions, and several pages of handwritten notes.

Jiang Fan took it, looked down at it, and his eyes lit up immediately.

The drawings are old-fashioned industrial assembly drawings, with fine lines and complex annotations.

The instruction page contains foreign language text, but it is not entirely in English; rather, it is English interspersed with some transliterations and old-fashioned terms.

There are also annotations left by others after translating it, the handwriting is messy, and it is clear that it has been studied repeatedly by many people.

Commander Li lit a cigarette and slowly said:

"A machine tool that was bought from somewhere else has been under repair for many days, but I just can't get it working properly."

"Some say the bearing is broken, some say the linkage mechanism is stuck, and some say the spindle itself is broken."

"The blueprints are in a foreign language, and the materials are incomplete. We've disassembled and reassembled them repeatedly, but there's still no improvement."

"If this machine can't be started, everything else will have to be postponed."

"You tell me, what do you think?"

Jiang Fan was a little confused. They had just confirmed his identity, and they were already being so direct?

However, in such situations, it's best to avoid showing off too much right from the start.

Especially given his current identity, which is still uncertain.

If you say one wrong word, not only will your technical brilliance be ruined, but all the hard-won explanations about your identity will be questioned again.

He simply calmed down and laid out the drawings one by one.

The meeting room fell silent again.

Everyone was watching him.

As Jiang Fan watched, he quickly drew upon his memory of mechanical principles, structural transmission, equipment maintenance, industrial documentaries, foreign factory and mining cases, and the materials he had previously studied for making popular science videos.

You know what?

Those obscure facts that people laughed at before I transmigrated for being "only someone with a lot of free time would read them" have now become my lifesavers.

He first glanced at a few lines of English in the instruction manual, then turned to the corresponding page of the drawings, checked several key dimensions and linkage arrows, and his brows slowly furrowed.

"Sir," he raised his head, his tone much more steady than before.

"Let me ask you this first: is this machine currently running, but it vibrates, makes strange noises, and eventually jams and stops under load; or is it simply unable to start at all?"

The bespectacled technical officer's eyelids twitched, and he immediately replied:

"It can idle for a while, but it can't handle the load. It's very noisy and gets very hot."

Jiang Fan immediately felt more confident.

"The problem is probably not on the main axis," he said.

Upon hearing this, someone at the table immediately frowned.

"What do you mean?" Chief Li asked.

Jiang Fan pointed to a linkage assembly on the blueprint:

"Because if the spindle is really broken, it will be difficult to keep it running steadily even when idling. The fact that it can run steadily now means that the spindle is not completely dead. If it is really dead, it is most likely due to the transmission chain or linkage calibration."

"One more," he said, pointing to the instruction page.

"Are you interpreting this term in the context of replacing the spindle bushing?"

The bespectacled technical staff member paused for a moment, then said, "Isn't that right?"

Jiang Fan shook his head: "Not entirely. In the context of this kind of equipment, this term is closer to adjusting the fit gap, not telling you to replace the whole thing. If you repair it by replacing it, then you're going in the wrong direction from the start."