Courtyard House: I'm an engineer, and a fairy godmother transferred me to a different position.

In this era, a formal engineer is enough to oversee the overall technology in a factory; if one reaches level eight, one will either control the technological lifeline of key national enterprises or directly enter a ministry.

Even ministries can usually only retain engineers at the sixth or seventh level.

To go any further, one must reach an even higher platform—otherwise, it would be a waste of the nation's top talent.

Liu Guangqi may appear to be only a Level 6 engineer, but who doesn't know his true worth?

If he weren't so young and inexperienced, and if the department hadn't been deliberately suppressing his rank, he would have risen through the ranks long ago based on his achievements alone.

The title of Level 4 Engineer is simply not enough to protect him.

That's why—

A top talent like him has research and development achievements to his name, his engineering level is impeccable, and his technical contributions are obvious to all.

It's not surprising that they were singled out by the higher-level academic committee.

Send it to the Chinese Academy of Sciences for cultivation!

Liu Guangqi held the thin document, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

What is this all about?

Could it be that I am too outstanding, like a cultivator in the cultivation world who is forced to ascend by the elders, and I must go to a higher realm to "shine and generate heat"?

In the end, the ascendant who went through countless hardships became nothing more than one of the 100,000 heavenly soldiers who besieged Sun Wukong.

He was doing very well at the Ministry of Machine Building, and now he was about to "ascend" to the Chinese Academy of Sciences and become one of the 100,000 heavenly soldiers.

It was truly an unexpected stroke of genius, catching everyone off guard.

Thinking of this, Liu Guangqi tried one last time to plead: "Boss, am I too old...?"

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by the Minister of the First Ministry of Machine Building.

"Age?" The minister waved his hand dismissively, as if he'd heard some trivial gossip. "That's nothing!"

"If you cover up the age section in your file, who would dare say you're not qualified?"

"Besides..." His tone shifted, his voice deepening, "The Chinese Academy of Sciences never considers age when nominating academicians; it looks at technology, contributions, and what's in your heads!"

"If even you aren't qualified, then I'm afraid you can't find many qualified people in the various ministries!"

Once this high praise was bestowed upon him, Liu Guangqi was completely rendered speechless.

It seems he has no choice but to go to the Chinese Academy of Sciences this time.

Just as he was feeling helpless, the minister's voice rang out again, this time with a hint of reassurance.

"Comrade Guangqi, don't be too nervous."

"This nomination and supplement is not to ask you to immediately transfer your administrative position to the Chinese Academy of Sciences, nor is it to ask you to work there in the future."

The minister leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice: "To put it bluntly, it's just giving you the status of a member of the Chinese Academy of Sciences in advance."

"Your personnel, your organizational structure, and all your benefits will remain unchanged within the Ministry of Machine Building."

"We've nurtured this precious talent in the heavy industry sector with great effort; how could I possibly let him fly away?"

At this point, the minister paused and gave Liu Guangqi a reassuring look.

"In terms of work, apart from occasionally needing to participate in key projects on behalf of the Chinese Academy of Sciences and contribute your efforts, most of the time you are still a member of our ministry, doing what you are supposed to do."

Upon hearing this, Liu Guangqi's initial reluctance vanished completely.

Can you do this?

Can one simply be a figurehead, enjoying the honors and benefits without being completely tied down to that place?

Isn't this equivalent to the later "dual-appointment academicians"?

"So that's how it is!" Liu Guangqi's eyes lit up, and his face immediately brightened. "Alright, boss, I have no objections."

"As long as my administrative position remains within the Ministry of Machine Building, everything is negotiable."

He nodded in agreement, his mind already subtly calculating his next move.

In this way, they can gain the reputation and benefits of the Chinese Academy of Sciences while minimizing the risks of future troubles.

That's a great deal.

After all, he was only twenty-two years old. When the winds of change really picked up, he would still be under thirty, far from the age to settle down at the Chinese Academy of Sciences.

Well, being young always has its advantages—youth is an asset.

Having figured this out, Liu Guangqi felt much better and immediately asked about another matter:

"Boss, is there another piece of good news? Has the export plan been approved?"

"That's right!" Upon hearing this, the minister's face instantly lit up with a smile, as if the seriousness and complexity of the discussion about the Chinese Academy of Sciences' nomination had been completely forgotten.

His eyes almost gleamed: "The export plan is approved!"

"When I reported to my superiors, they immediately approved the plan as soon as they heard that we already had the technical reserves for seven-axis five-linkage and could guarantee that the core technology wouldn't be leaked during exports!"

As the minister spoke, he casually picked up the approval document stamped with a bright red seal, his fingertips lightly landing on the three words "pricing power".

The minister tapped his fingers heavily on the table a few times, the sound filled with a triumphant satisfaction:

"The higher-ups and the foreign trade department have made it clear that the export price will be based on the standard we set for our northern neighbor, and we cannot concede a single penny! We are the only company in the world that produces CNC machine tools, so the pricing power is in our hands."

He became increasingly animated as he spoke, his gaze shifting to Liu Guangqi:

"Guangqi, do you understand what this means? Once this batch of equipment is shipped out, our foreign exchange earnings this year could increase several times over, and we might even be able to clear all the old debts we owe to the north in one go!"

These words struck Director Lin like a thunderbolt.

He came from a time of war and poverty, and he knows all too well how heavy the burden of "foreign debt" once was on this country's shoulders. He also understands better than anyone how much sweat and tears have been shed to go from being held hostage by the West with the simplest technology to now holding the most sophisticated machine tools and setting prices that others have no choice but to accept.

Such a dramatic change brought tears to the eyes of this man in his fifties.

He gazed at the excessively young figure before him, his heart churning with emotion.

This is the person.

Because of him, the unattainable dreams of countless industrial workers have finally come true.

Because of him, the backbone of this country has truly stood tall on the path of technology.

With the business settled and the documents signed, the atmosphere in the office relaxed.

Liu Guangqi didn't rush to leave. He leaned lazily against the sofa, chatting idly with the minister, his gaze constantly drifting to the corner of the desk—where sat a simple tin tea canister, undecorated and without a single word. Yet, even though it was tightly sealed, a rich, mellow tea aroma still wafted out, overpowering the smell of old wood and ink.

Liu Guangqi was still holding the documents in his hand, but his eyes kept drifting more and more obviously towards the jar.

Since we've come all this way, we can't go back empty-handed, can we?

Strangely enough, he had never been particular about food, drink and pleasure, but ever since he tasted the tea in that jar here last time, he could never forget it.

"Alright, alright, stop playing the 'I have ulterior motives' act with me."

The minister couldn't stand his "thief never leaves empty-handed" look any longer, so he shook his head, amused and annoyed, and pushed the heavy tin can forward.

"Take it! Take it!"

"Oh, Minister, I can't accept this..."

Liu Guangqi was polite in words, but his hands moved quickly, snatching the jar into his arms.

The swift and decisive movements made Director Lin's eyes twitch.

Liu Guangqi lifted the lid of the jar and took a deep breath.

That's right, that's the taste.

"Thank you for your consideration, boss!" He seized the opportunity. "You don't know, sitting in the lab staring at data all day long, my brain is almost unable to function. Without something good to keep me awake, I really can't keep going."

"Stop complaining!" the minister chuckled, pointing at him. "You can't just talk the talk; when are you going to get me a seven-axis, five-linkage machine tool? I'll give you all my monthly tea as a reward!"

"Minister, I've taken that to heart!"

Liu Guangqi paused, and when he turned around, his eyes lit up.

"You really dare to think that? Hurry up and get out of here!" The minister laughed and waved for them to leave.

Liu Guangqi wasn't annoyed. He carried the tea canister and walked out, his steps so light they seemed to float.

The tea in this can is not the kind you can usually find on the market. The unique serial number on the bottom of the can represents a quota that ordinary people can't even dream of.

This trip was worthwhile.

Director Lin watched Liu Guangqi's smug back as his lips twitched involuntarily.

That kid's really something.

Director Lin watched helplessly as the canister of tea was handed over, his heart feeling like it had been scratched by a cat's claws. How many times had he come to the minister to report, always cautiously taking a couple of sips before putting it down? This kid, on the other hand, just asked for it and took the whole can. Reflecting on the minister's meaningful words before he left, he suddenly realized that his cautious approach over the years was probably less reliable than the young man's thick skin. Oh well, when he sees him later, he should at least offer a polite bow and a "best wishes for a bright future."

Liu Guangqi, of course, was oblivious to all the intricacies. He carried the tea canister out the door, his steps light as he walked down the corridor, the canister tinkling gently against the lining of his briefcase's side pocket with each step. As dusk deepened, the familiar black sedan was already waiting outside. With a low hum of the engine, he glanced at his watch—it was exactly the time to pick him up.

A strong wind was blowing in front of the Foreign Ministry, swirling up a few withered leaves from the ground. As Zhao Mengyun stepped out of the building, she subconsciously pulled her coat collar tighter. Seeing the car lights on by the roadside, she quickened her pace, opening the car door and letting in a blast of cool air.

A warm, refreshing fragrance wafted from the carriage. Before she could even settle in, a warm enamel cup was shoved into her hand.

"Did the sun rise in the west today?" Zhao Mengyun smiled as she lifted the lid of the cup, the aroma of the tea intensifying in the rising steam. She lowered her head and took a sip, her eyelashes suddenly fluttering. "This tea... did you smuggle it from the minister?"

"The leader cares about his comrades, so he specially gave it to me," Liu Guangqi said casually. He watched her sip the drink from her cup, his eyes crinkling slightly, and then changed the subject as if it were just casual conversation: "By the way, the ministry just nominated me to fill a vacancy in the Department of Technological Sciences of the Chinese Academy of Sciences."

Zhao Mengyun stopped moving.

"Chinese Academy of Sciences?" She slowly turned her head. "Which department?"

"That department." Liu Guangqi took the cup from her hand, tightened the lid, and said, "The recommendation has already been submitted, and it should be finalized before the end of the year. From then on, I'll receive an extra stipend every month."

Zhao Mengyun didn't respond. She stared blankly at the passing street scene outside the car window, the neon lights flickering on her face. The three words "Chinese Academy of Sciences" echoed repeatedly in her mind—a hall of fame that so many researchers looked up to, where every scholar who sat was a great master, their hair turned white with age. How old was her husband?

She suddenly turned around, her fingers gripping his sleeve: "So... you're being transferred to the research institute?"

His voice betrayed an barely suppressed panic.

Liu Guangqi grasped her slightly cool fingers in return: "What are you thinking? It's just a part-time position; I'm still working at the Ministry of Machine Building." He paused, his tone becoming more practical, "But with this status, coordinating high-precision equipment will be much easier in the future. Many bottleneck experiments can be accelerated by at least 30%."

Zhao Mengyun let out a long sigh of relief, her tense shoulders relaxing. She glanced at him, but a shimmering smile appeared in her eyes, like ripples spreading across a pond in the evening breeze.

"You startled me," she said softly, her fingers secretly entwining around his. "Our engineer Liu... he's really capable."

Dusk filtered through the glass windows, spreading a soft, yellowish hue throughout the room.

She gently placed the newspaper on her lap, her gaze falling on the striking headline—"Elected Academician at Twenty-Two"—and a gentle smile unconsciously curved her lips. "You probably can't find another like her in the whole country, can you?" She turned her head, her eyes sparkling, and suddenly lowered her voice, leaning closer to him with a hint of playfulness: "Hey, from now on, when I see you, should I respectfully call you 'Committee Member Liu'?"

Liu Guangqi simply smiled and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The light outside the window gradually dimmed, but the warmth inside filled the room, keeping out the chill of late autumn.