Chapter 182 The "Trojan Horse" in the Fishing Rod

As a veteran technician, Chen Guangwei understood the concept immediately once the veil was lifted:

"Micro-powder can fill the microscopic defects on the surface of the fiberglass..."

"It can also form a self-lubricating film!"

"Exactly."

Lin Xi said confidently,

"If we use this on the fishing line."

"The water-cutting ability will be excellent, and the wear resistance will double."

"Even for our rods."

"If we add just a little to the surface resin,"

"the feel will be like touching silk."

Chen Guangwei gasped.

To take this kind of special material, usually used in high-end machinery or even aerospace fields,

and mix it into fishing rods that cost only a few dozen yuan?

This is like using a Dragon-Slaying Saber to peel an apple!

The live stream chat scrolled by:

[Hahaha, Old Chen's worldview is collapsing and being rebuilt.]

[This is what you call the gold standard of military-to-civilian conversion!]

[This is literally rubbing friction into the ground!]

"The cost..." Chen Guangwei hesitated.

"Costs are fixed, but people are flexible."

Lin Xi stuffed the bottle of powder into Chen Guangwei's hand,

"We aren't selling fishing rods; we're selling dimensional strikes."

"How much do similar Shimano rods from Japan sell for?"

"We just need to achieve performance superiority."

"Even if the cost is 20% higher, we can still wipe them out completely."

Chen Guangwei held the bottle, that fanaticism typical of a technician rising within him again.

"And this."

Lin Xi casually spread out a blueprint.

On it was a complex conical structure.

"Our previous fiberglass rods,"

"were either solid and dead-heavy,"

"or they were 'noodle rods' with consistent wall thickness, heavy at the top and light at the bottom."

"This is..."

Chen Guangwei leaned in to look, his pupils slightly constricted,

"Variable-diameter hollow rolling?"

"Making the tip thinner and hardening the mid-section by increasing the number of fabric layers."

Lin Xi pointed to the parameters on the blueprint,

"Through this variable-diameter design,"

"the center of gravity shifts backward, and the feel becomes at least 20% lighter."

"But the backbone strength increases by 30%."

"This is what you call a revolution for small telescopic rods."

The two leaned over the workbench.

Like two shrewd abacus beads, they calculated the figures rapidly.

"Once this combination of moves is unleashed,"

"the mid-to-low-end market in Japan will basically have no chance of survival."

Chen Guangwei sighed while calculating,

"Manager Lin, how is your brain built?"

"Not only do you understand materials, but you've also calculated exactly how to make people open their wallets."

"I've been terrified of being poor."

Lin Xi joked,

"Working with carbon fiber is a money-devouring beast."

"If I don't snatch the meat from the mouths of the Japanese, where would I get the money to burn?"

The two were chatting heatedly.

The door to the workshop outside was kicked open.

A young man wearing work clothes with the front open and hair as messy as a bird's nest burst in.

He had a half-smoked, unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth.

His walk carried a reckless, street-smart air.

Xiao Zhou, the warehouse manager.

He was also Chen Guangwei's good-for-nothing distant nephew.

He used to be a troublemaker on the streets of Haiwei.

It was only because Chen Guangwei saw that his family was in dire straits that he forced him into the factory.

Chen Guangwei's face darkened.

Just as he was about to scold him for barging into a sensitive technical area without knowing the rules,

he saw Xiao Zhou walk straight to a table.

"Bam!"

A crisp sound.

Five brand-new, crisp banknotes were slammed onto the tabletop.

They weren't Renminbi; they were Foreign Exchange Certificates.

In 1982, the purchasing power of fifty yuan in Foreign Exchange Certificates

was enough to cover a normal family's living expenses for two or three months.

It could even be used at the Friendship Store to buy foreign goods that were usually impossible to see.

Chen Guangwei was stunned.

Looking at those colorful notes, then looking at Xiao Zhou's nonchalant face:

"You brat... where did you get this money?"

"Did you go out and cause trouble again?"

"Cause trouble?"

Xiao Zhou snorted, reached up to take the cigarette from his mouth, and tucked it behind his ear,

"If I really wanted to cause trouble, I would have crippled that grandson just now."

"Who?"

"That Japanese guy with the slicked-back hair and the fake smile."

"The one called Nakamura."

Xiao Zhou curled his lip in disgust,

"That grandson was wandering outside the perimeter wall just now."

"When he saw me come out to take out the trash, he pulled me aside and shoved this money at me."

Lin Xi had been leaning against the table watching the show.

Upon hearing this, his eyes narrowed slightly, and he straightened up.

"What did he want?" Lin Xi asked.

Xiao Zhou glanced at Lin Xi sideways. Although he knew this was the new big boss,

his reckless nature didn't allow him to be intimidated:

"What else could he want?"

"He wanted me to get some waste material from the workshop out."

"Preferably broken rod sections."

"Or the leftover scraps from that wire-drawing machine."

Chen Guangwei's expression changed drastically: "Did you give it to him?"

"Give it to him, my foot!"

Xiao Zhou spat on the ground,

"I love money, and I'm a bastard, but I'm not stupid."

He pointed at the fifty yuan in Foreign Exchange Certificates on the table.

His tone carried a kind of rigid backbone unique to that era:

"My great-grandfather was skewered by the Japanese invaders' bayonets back in the day."

"If I took this money,"

"my great-grandfather would crawl out of his grave in the middle of the night to slap me across the face."

Xiao Zhou's eyes reddened as he said this.

But he sniffled to cover it up and reached out to grab the money:

"Damn it, the more I think about it, the angrier I get. It's filthy!"

"I'm going to burn it right now to light a cigarette for my great-grandfather!"

In the live stream, the originally joking chat paused for a second, then exploded with comments:

[Tearing up... This is the most simple and pure patriotism of that era.]

[Righteousness is often found among the lowly!]

[His backbone is strong; that's enough. Like for this brother!]

[Streamer, you have to give Xiao Zhou a raise later!]

Just then, a slender, strong hand firmly pressed down on the back of his hand.

"Don't tear it."

A smile played on Lin Xi's lips, a smile that held a depth Xiao Zhou couldn't quite understand,

"Money delivered to your doorstep, and foreign exchange at that, why tear it up?"

"Manager Lin, you..."

Xiao Zhou was stunned and tried to pull his hand back.

But he found that Lin Xi's strength was surprisingly great,

"I won't earn money that breaks my backbone!"

"Who said anything about breaking your backbone?"

Lin Xi released his hand and lightly flicked the Foreign Exchange Certificates, making a crisp sound,

"This money is a service fee Nakamura gave you."

"It's money you earned by... tricking him."

"Oh no, earned by your own ability. How is it dirty?"

Chen Guangwei was also confused by Lin Xi:

"Manager Lin, this..."

Lin Xi didn't explain but turned and walked toward the corner of the workshop.

A pile of waste was stacked there.

It was from before they cracked the wire-drawing machine a few days ago.

Defective products produced when the equipment was locked at a low speed of 400 RPM.

Because the speed was insufficient, the traction was inadequate, and the temperature in the shed hadn't been stabilized yet.

The resulting fiberglass strands were not only uneven in thickness,

but the resin impregnation was extremely poor, and air bubbles wrapped inside could even be seen with the naked eye.

It was pure industrial trash.

Lin Xi bent down and picked out a piece of broken rod blank from the pile.

He grabbed a handful of waste strands and walked back to hand them to Xiao Zhou.

"Take these," Lin Xi said.

Xiao Zhou looked at the bubble-filled waste tube in his hand, looking bewildered:

"Manager Lin, what are you..."

"Didn't Nakamura want samples? Give them to him!"