Major Heavy Industry: Starting with a Fake Marriage

Chapter 61 Firecrackers

Jiang Cheng shook his head.

"Because your technology can be used not only in factories, but also in national defense." Old Zhou took a sip of tea. "The J-8 project is a key national project, and the landing gear problem has been unresolved. Imported ones are too expensive, and domestic ones are of poor quality. Your coating technology can solve this problem perfectly."

Jiang Cheng was a little excited, but he suppressed it: "Old Zhou, this technology is still in the experimental stage. Whether it can be used on airplanes still needs to be verified."

Old Zhou nodded: "You're right. That's why I didn't let them have too high hopes. But what you just said, are you sure about it?"

Jiang Cheng thought for a moment and said, "Yes. I've tried it many times at the factory, and the results are very good. But the requirements for aircraft landing gear are higher; it needs to undergo fatigue testing and impact testing, which I haven't done before."

Old Zhou looked at him with admiration in his eyes: "Xiao Jiang, you are more cautious than most people I've met. That's a good thing."

He put down his teacup, took a document from the drawer, and handed it to Jiang Cheng: "Take a look at this."

Jiang Cheng took it; it was an official document with a red header, addressed to "National Machinery Industry Commission." He read a few lines, and his hands began to tremble.

The document contains a notice regarding the establishment of the "National Center for the Promotion of Technology for the Renovation of Old Equipment." The center is located in Shenyang, with Jiang Cheng serving as deputy director and chief engineer. It has a staff of thirty and is funded by a special national grant.

"Old Zhou, this..."

"This was secured for you by Director Zhang," Old Zhou said. "Your promotion office is too low-level; nobody listens to you. This center is a national-level organization, reporting directly to the ministry. With this status, anyone who wants to touch you will have to think twice."

Jiang Cheng stared at the document, a complex mix of emotions churning within him. Just a few months ago, he was a lowly fitter under investigation. Now, he held a state-issued appointment document in his hand.

"Old Zhou, I—"

"Don't thank me," Old Zhou waved his hand. "If you want to thank someone, thank yourself. You did it all yourself."

He stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the rain outside. The rain had lessened a bit, the sky had brightened slightly, and the outlines of buildings could be seen in the distance.

"Xiao Jiang, do you know why Zhou Chuanming keeps staring at you?"

Jiang Cheng was taken aback: "Because he felt I was blocking his way?"

Old Zhou shook his head: "Not entirely. Because what you represent and what he represents are on two different tracks. You represent hard work, he represents connections. Every time you succeed, it proves that his methods are useless. How could he not hate you?"

Jiang Cheng fell silent. He had never thought about the problem from this perspective before.

"So," Old Zhou turned around, "your path ahead will be even more difficult. With this center, you have a bigger stage, but also more rivals. They will use all sorts of methods to deal with you—overtly, covertly, legally, and illegally. You need to be prepared."

Jiang Cheng stood up: "Old Zhou, I'm ready."

Old Zhou looked at him and suddenly smiled: "Good. I like this kind of spirit of yours."

He picked up a key from the table and handed it to Jiang Cheng: "This is the key to the center's office in Shenyang. The place has already been rented; it's next to Shenyang Institute of Technology, three rooms, enough for you. After you go back, get the team together and start working as soon as possible."

Jiang Cheng took the key; it was heavy, made of bronze, and engraved with "Building 18, Room 103, Shenyang Institute of Technology Family Area".

"Also," Old Zhou said, "get back to the landing gear issue and get it done as soon as you get back. Chief Engineer Zhao is waiting for your news. If it's successful, it will not only save the country money, but also give your center a great start."

Jiang Cheng nodded: "I'll get to it as soon as I get back."

Old Zhou walked up to him, extended his hand, and said, "Xiao Jiang, do a good job. The country needs people like you."

Jiang Cheng grasped his hand. The old man's hand was thin but strong, with prominent knuckles like tree roots.

When Jiang Cheng came out of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, the rain had stopped. A patch of blue sky appeared on the horizon, and the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, shining brightly on the wet ground. Puddles flowed on the road, carrying fallen leaves and dust, gathering in the lower reaches like small rivers. The air was filled with the scent of earth and grass, as fresh as if it had just been washed.

He stood in front of the building and took a deep breath. The key in his hand felt heavy against his palm.

He remembered his master's words: "The higher you climb, the more people will be watching you."

He recalled Zheng Yanxi's words: "You're drifting further and further away from me."

He recalled what Old Zhou had said: "What you represent and what he represents are like cars on two different tracks."

He walked to the bus stop and waited for the bus. There weren't many people on the platform. An old man was carrying a shopping basket, a young woman was holding a book, and a little boy was squatting on the ground watching ants carrying food. The ants were lined up in a row on the wet ground, busily carrying food, seemingly without a trace of where they came from or where they were going.

The bus arrived, and he boarded, sitting in the last row. Outside the window, Beijing looked exceptionally clear after the rain; every tree, every building, every person seemed washed clean, their outlines sharply defined. Sunlight shone on the wet asphalt, reflecting iridescent halos like tiny rainbows.

He touched the key in his pocket. It was brass, cool, and hard.

The train was in the afternoon. He still had a few hours. He wanted to go to Tiananmen Square, but after thinking about it, he decided against it. He wanted to go back as soon as possible. Back to Shenyang, back to the factory, back to Yanxi and the children.

He gripped the keys tightly in his hand. The sunlight streaming through the window warmed his face. He rested his head against the car window and closed his eyes. The raindrops on the glass were cool and soothing against his temples.

He woke up briefly as the train started moving, then fell asleep again. He dreamt he was standing in a large workshop, surrounded by machines that roared and clattered. He stood alone in the middle, holding a wrench, unsure which machine to fix. Then he heard a sound, distant and faint, like the wind blowing through a wheat field.

"dad--"

He woke up with a start. The train was crossing the North China Plain, and the wheat fields outside the window stretched as far as the eye could see, lush and green, undulating in the wind like a sea. The sunlight shone on the waves of wheat, glittering and dazzling his eyes.

He felt his pocket; the keys were still there. He smiled, then closed his eyes again.

On the third day after Jiang Cheng returned from Beijing, the sign for the promotion center was put up.

The sign was made by Director Zhou; it was white with black lettering that read "Shenyang Branch of the National Center for the Promotion of Technology for the Renovation of Old Equipment," and it was hung at the entrance of a three-story building next to Shenyang Industrial College. There was no ceremony or firecrackers on the day the sign was hung; only Jiang Cheng and Huang Deqing stood at the entrance for a long time.