Chapter 145 The Desert Tycoon's Urgent Order and His "Dawdling"

In early October in the Northwest, the wind already carried a whistling sound.

Lin Xi was busy sketching and writing on paper.

The production schedule for "red star - mainstay" had already been booked until next year.

It was dedicated to producing high-precision ball screws and other parts for high-precision machine tools.

This was the significance of industrial master machines; with them, there would be a steady stream of high-precision machine tools.

At this moment, Lin Xi was busy with another matter.

The autumn Canton Fair was about to open, which was the last opportunity of the year to earn foreign exchange.

Just then, the red telephone on the desk rang.

It was Zhang Zhengguo's secretary:

"Manager Lin, the commander-in-chief would like you to come over."

"He says there's an urgent job from the Fifth Ministry of Machine Building, and they've specifically requested you to come 'put out the fire'."

"I'll be there immediately."

Lin Xi dropped his pencil, threw on his zhongshan suit, and strode out the door.

The base headquarters.

Pushing open the door, he saw Zhang Zhengguo sitting on the sofa reading a newspaper, a cup of tea steaming by his side.

Seeing Lin Xi enter, he didn't get up.

He merely gestured with his chin toward a document on the coffee table.

"Liu Yuanchao from the Fifth Ministry of Machine Building called me three times this morning."

Zhang Zhengguo turned a page of the newspaper, his tone revealing a hint of helplessness and teasing,

"He said that a while back, a big order came in from the Middle East—five hundred machine tools, cash on the barrelhead."

"But that Cui Yushan in Spring City dropped the ball."

"They only produced 40 units in 10 days."

"Old Liu is worried sick, insisting that it's because our technology is too complex, which is why production can't keep up."

Zhang Zhengguo put down the newspaper, looked at Lin Xi, and smiled:

"We can't take the blame for this."

"I've seen that m1 kit of yours; even a fool could operate it."

"In my opinion, it's just that Old Cui lacks the ability."

Lin Xi picked up the document and scanned it.

An urgent order from the Middle East, five hundred units, two months.

It was indeed a good business opportunity, but also a hot potato.

"Is this business being spearheaded by the Fifth Ministry of Machine Building?" Lin Xi asked.

"Yes, and now that it's about to fall through, they've set their sights on you."

Zhang Zhengguo picked up his teacup and blew on it,

"Old Liu's intention is to have you go to Spring City."

"First, to help smooth things over; second, to..."

Ring-ring—

The red secure telephone on the desk rang again.

Zhang Zhengguo pointed at the phone and shook his head with a chuckle:

"Look, he's calling again."

"Old Liu really has no patience."

He slowly picked up the phone and pressed the speaker button.

"Old Liu, I was just discussing this with Lin Xi."

"Don't rush me; rushing me won't do any good."

Liu Yuanchao's voice came from the other end of the line.

His speaking speed was slightly fast, carrying a tone of exasperation at incompetence:

"Old Zhang, it's not that I'm rushing you."

"It's that Old Cui is too difficult to deal with."

"He threw up his hands and told me your technology requires an Eighth-Grade Worker to operate."

"He doesn't have that many Eighth-Grade Workers in his factory, so he told me to figure it out."

"This order involves whether we can open up a foreign exchange channel in the Middle East; it is of great importance."

"Even though it's not within your Seventh Ministry of Machine Building Industry."

"The root of this technology is with you, so you have to lend a hand."

After listening, Zhang Zhengguo raised an eyebrow at Lin Xi.

His eyes carried a look that said, "See? What did I tell you?"

He said into the phone:

"Alright, Old Liu, Lin Xi is right here next to me."

"I'll let Lin Xi have a word with you."

Lin Xi leaned forward slightly, moved closer to the receiver, and spoke in a calm tone:

"Director Liu, this is Lin Xi."

"The design philosophy of the m1 kit is to lower the barrier to entry."

"If it requires an Eighth-Grade Worker, then that means my skills as Lin Xi are lacking."

"I can roughly guess the situation in Spring City."

"It's not that the people are incompetent; it's that the approach is wrong."

There was a pause on the other end, and Liu Yuanchao's voice became much steadier:

"Comrade Lin Xi, with those words from you, I can rest easy."

"Since you say the technology isn't the problem, then it must be a management issue."

"I'll have to trouble you to take a trip to Spring City, even if it means tearing down their production line and reassembling it."

"As long as we can ship the goods, our Fifth Ministry of Machine Building will back you up."

"No problem," Lin Xi replied decisively.

After hanging up, Zhang Zhengguo leaned back on the sofa.

"Since this technology came from our Red Star Technology, we can't let others smear it."

"It's good that you're going."

"While you're at it, let Old Cui broaden his horizons; don't let him keep holding onto that old almanac as if it were a treasure."

"Decide for yourself who you need to take with you."

"If there's anything you can't handle over there, give me a call."

Zhang Zhengguo said calmly:

"Even though we're helping out, we're not going there to be bullied."

"Understood."

Lin Xi stood up.

"General Manager Zhang, rest assured."

"I'm familiar with this sickness; it's not a technical difficulty, it's a lack of rules."

"I will take people with me."

"On this trip, we won't talk about technology; we will only establish the rules."

He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Shanghai Hongfeng Machinery Factory.

"Hello, is this Hongfeng Factory?"

"Put me through to Zhang Zhiqiang in the Production Department."

A moment later, a resonant voice came from the other end:

"Engineer Lin? This is Old Zhang!"

"Old Zhang, put down the work you have on hand."

Lin Xi said in a calm tone,

"Bring that copy of the 'SOP Standardization Manual', and take two scorekeepers with you."

"Buy the earliest tickets and go to Spring City."

"We're going to Quancheng No. 1 Machine Tool Plant to help out."

"Quancheng No. 1 Machine Tool Plant? That's a big factory..."

"Big factories have big factory diseases."

A cold smirk curled at the corner of Lin Xi's mouth.

"Go and teach them that in front of an assembly line, there are no master craftsmen, only standard procedures."

"Also, bring an abacus."

"This time, we're going to pave a path with money."

...

Two days later, at 3:00 PM.

Quancheng No. 1 Machine Tool Plant, assembly workshop.

The air was filled with the acrid smell of evaporating machine oil.

It was also mixed with the smell of sweat from hundreds of grown men.

"Szz—szz—"

The teeth-gritting sound of metal rubbing against metal rose and fell.

Lin Xi stood on the second-floor walkway, his brow furrowed into a knot.

Below, the assembly line, which should have been flowing smoothly, looked like a pot of overcooked dumplings.

Dozens of master craftsmen were hunched over the machine tool bases.

With scrapers and files in hand, they were sweating profusely as they struggled with each individual part.

"The hole position is wrong!"

"It's off by at least fifty microns!"

"Those bastards in casting are slacking off again!"

"The base is uneven; how am I supposed to install the screw rod?"

"Bring me a sledgehammer! A little knock and it'll go in!"

Cursing, hammering, and filing sounds blended together.

This was what they called "assembly."

Rather than assembling industrial goods, it was more like creating large-scale sculptures.

"Manager Lin..."

Workshop Director Liu Dayong wiped the black oil and sweat from his face.

He ran upstairs, panting, with a bitter expression on his face.

"It's really not that the brothers aren't working hard."

Liu Dayong pointed below,

"You can see for yourself; the foundation for these C616s is too shoddy."

"The cast blanks have tolerances so large you could fit a finger inside."

"By the time they get to us, if we don't file and repair them, the m1 kit simply won't fit!"

"All the Eighth-Grade Workers in our workshop are swarming on this one task."

"Working themselves to death, we can only assemble five units a day at most."

"We're still far off from the five-hundred-unit goal."

Lin Xi didn't speak, merely staring at a worker below who was swinging a sledgehammer to smash in a pin shaft.

This was the industrial reality of this era.

No standards; everything relied on experience.

No precision; everything relied on patchwork.

"Notify all workshop directors; we're having a meeting in ten minutes."

Lin Xi turned around, his voice as cold as ice shards.