Courtyard House: Starting as an eighth-grade worker, with too many wives.

Chapter 147 Strike While the Iron Is Hot

"and then?"

"Then?"

Li Jianguo thought about it.

"Then let's go see that mountain."

Jiang Min smiled.

The train traveled through the darkness, heading towards an unknown destination.

Clang.

I couldn't see anything outside the window except for the occasional passing lights and the two figures reflected in the glass.

Jiang Min yawned.

"Go to sleep," Li Jianguo said. "It's still early."

"And what about you?"

"I'll sit for a while longer."

Jiang Min lay down, the blanket pulled up to her chin, her eyes still open, looking at him.

Li Jianguo didn't move; he just sat there, looking out the window.

I don't know how long I watched it.

When Jiang Min was asleep, her breathing was soft, blending into the noise of the train.

He suddenly remembered that he hadn't asked her if she had seen the child standing on the edge of the field.

Forget it.

I'll ask again tomorrow.

If I remember tomorrow.

What Li Jianguo didn't know was—

That kid Chi Cheng sneaked into the factory before dawn.

It's not lit.

Old Zhang, the gatekeeper, later told everyone he met about it. He said that he had just brewed the tea, the aroma of the jasmine tea hadn't even wafted out yet, and the tea leaves were still swirling on the surface of the water when Chi Cheng arrived. He walked in with his head down, like he was sleepwalking. When called, he didn't respond.

Chi Cheng entered the workshop and turned on the lights.

The light bulb flickered a few times before turning on. The pale light cast a long, ghostly shadow on the wall.

He doesn't care about that.

The drawing is laid out. Flattened. A pencil is clutched in my hand.

Then he froze there—not motionless, but completely absorbed. Occasionally he'd lower his head and draw a few strokes, then stop again, his lips moving. He muttered. The muttering was very soft, a buzzing sound, like a mosquito's buzz. The workshop was empty, so the sound seemed to float in mid-air, never settling down.

Read for a while, then flip through the documents. The flipping motion is quick, rustling and rustling. After finishing, continue drawing.

that's it.

Repeatedly.

It's like they're possessed.

Daylight broke. Not all at once, but slowly—from dark blue to grayish-white, then tinged with pale yellow. The workshop windows faced east, and the sunlight slanted in, falling directly on Chi Cheng's back. The blue work uniform on his back, faded from washing, had edges that appeared gilded in the sunlight.

Workers came in one after another.

The first one to enter was Xiao Zhou, a naive young man in his early twenties. He stepped in, saw Chi Cheng, and froze, as if his foot had been frozen in place. The person behind him bumped into him: "Come on, what are you standing there for?" Then he saw him too.

One, two, five, a dozen or so.

Form a semicircle.

Everyone craned their necks, as if watching a monkey show. But no one uttered a sound. The only sound in the workshop was the soft scratching of pencils on paper—a sound that was very faint, but clearly audible in the silence.

One of the younger men couldn't hold back any longer and asked the person next to him in a low voice, "What's this painting?" The person shook their head. He asked another person, who also shook their head. Finally, the old master glared at them, his eyes conveying the message: Shut up, don't bother us.

This is a rare occurrence. Anyone in the tech field knows that.

This is the scene that Director Jiang and Factory Director Yang saw when they came in.

A crowd had completely surrounded the area, with the few on the outermost edge even craning their necks to peer inside.

Factory Director Yang nudged Director Jiang with his elbow: "What are you doing over there?"

Director Jiang squinted and looked at it: "...I don't know."

"You don't know your workshop?"

Director Jiang choked for a moment. Indeed. He was in charge of the workshop, and he didn't know about it? Where would he put his face?

He didn't reply, and walked away.

The two squeezed in. The workers were so focused that they didn't even notice the factory manager arrive. Director Jiang patted the shoulder of the person on the far right, and the person turned around—upon seeing Director Jiang and Factory Manager Yang, his face turned pale.

"Director Yang... Director Yang, Director Jiang."

Factory Director Yang waved his hand and pressed it down.

"Keep your voice down. What's going on?"

The worker swallowed hard, making a gurgling sound in his throat.

"The new engineer, Mr. Chi," he said in a low voice, almost in a whisper, "has been working on improving the machine since last night. I heard that once it's fixed, we can start production."

Director Jiang was taken aback.

Factory Director Yang was also stunned.

The two quickly exchanged a glance.

Factory Director Yang's lips twitched, as if to say: Your workshop is full of hidden talents.

Director Jiang didn't reply. His mind was in turmoil—Li Jianguo had only delivered the materials yesterday, and he'd already produced results today? Was this kid some kind of monster? No, it should be said, what kind of celestial book was Li Jianguo's material?

But he put on a smile.

"Good, good, good." He said "good" three times, each time emphasizing it slightly more than the last. "I'll have to give him a good compliment later."

Factory Director Yang nodded: "That's only right. Breakthroughs are rewarded; it's the rule."

"So, shall we just wait here?"

"Wait."

The two of them stood at the very front of the crowd. The sunlight had already moved to Chi Cheng's shoulders and was now creeping up to his neck. He was completely unaware.

Chi Cheng is truly focused.

So focused were they that they didn't even notice there were two more people around them.

He would occasionally stop writing, staring blankly at the drawings. His eyes wouldn't blink, he would just stare. Sometimes he could stare for a long time, as if his soul had left his body. Then suddenly he would move again—the pencil would fall again, and he would draw quickly, as if afraid that what he had figured out would run away again.

All the machines in the workshop were stopped.

It was so quiet you could hear the sound of a pencil.

You can hear people breathing.

It's past ten o'clock.

Chi Cheng finally put down his pen.

He let out a long breath, a breath heavy with the sluggishness of a sleepless night. Then he raised his head and rubbed his eyes—

Then I was startled.

"What are you doing?!"

He instinctively tucked the blueprints into his arms, clutching them tightly as if protecting a precious treasure. The movement was so fast and forceful that the chair legs scraped against the floor with a screeching sound.

"Hold him down!"

At Director Yang's command, his voice was urgent and crisp.

Two workers rushed up and restrained Chi Cheng. Before Chi Cheng could react, his arm was twisted behind his back, and the blueprints were snatched away—he didn't know who had done it.

Factory Director Yang and Director Jiang huddled together, heads touching, completely absorbed in the spectacle.

"Add a gear here, here, and the friction will be reduced..."

"Yes, yes, and here too. Removing this pillar will greatly improve maneuverability..."

"Brilliant! How come I didn't think of that..."

The two of them chatted back and forth, completely forgetting that there was a man named Chi Cheng being supported next to them.

Chi Cheng got anxious.

"Hey! That's mine! I drew it! You guys—"

He struggled. But the two workers held him down tightly, and he couldn't break free. His work clothes were torn askew, and the collar was choking him.

After a while.

Factory Director Yang and Director Jiang had just finished reading it.

They turned around, and Director Yang waved. The two workers released Chi Cheng.

"Did you draw this?"

Chi Cheng snatched the blueprints back. He grabbed them so hard that he almost tore a corner. He looked down to check, making sure they weren't damaged, before looking up and saying irritably, "What else? Why are you stealing them? Are you robbers?"

Director Jiang was embarrassed. His lips twitched, and he seemed about to say something, but Factory Director Yang stopped him.

Factory Director Yang smiled.

That laugh wasn't faked; it was genuine joy.

"It was our fault; we were too excited and couldn't resist," he said. "But your drawings are truly beautiful. We old folks are mesmerized."

Chi Cheng's expression softened a bit.

Who doesn't love to hear compliments?

He pursed his lips and didn't say anything, but his anger had subsided considerably.

"How did you come up with these designs?" Director Yang pressed on while the iron was hot.

Chi Cheng shook his head.

"It wasn't me. It was the data. I drew it based on the data."

"material?"

"Yes. Li Jianguo gave it to me."