Chapter 46 Military Vehicle Escort! Is This for Building Fans or Missiles?

The entire field fell into a deathly silence.

One could truly hear a pin drop on the ground.

Zhao Dagang's mouth hung wide open, his jaw nearly dislocated.

Old Zhang's hand, reaching for a wrench, froze mid-air.

Escort? Molds?

The corners of Lin Xi's mouth curled up slightly as he returned a salute that wasn't quite standard but was solemn enough:

"Thank you for your hard work."

"It was no trouble!"

The officer waved his hand. "Unload!"

Four soldiers turned and ran toward the truck.

A moment later, a heavy crate was carried inside.

"This... what kind of treasure is this?"

Zhao Dagang scrambled up, trembling, and leaned in close, wanting to touch it but not daring to.

"Move aside." Lin Xi took the crowbar handed over by a soldier and inserted it into the gap of the wooden crate.

*Creeeak—*

With the crisp sound of wood splintering, the lid was pried open.

Lin Xi reached in and tore through the layers of wrapped oil paper.

In the next second, a cold, eerie glint cut through the dimness of the workshop.

*Hiss—*

The sound of sharp intakes of breath echoed all around.

Lying in the crate was a massive steel mold.

Under the red glow of the infrared bulbs, the surface of the mold's cavity actually reflected a light without any distortion.

That wasn't metal.

That was a mirror.

As if his soul had been snatched away, Old Zhang shuffled forward step by step.

He reached out a calloused, trembling hand, hovering it a centimeter above the mold, simply not daring to let it touch.

"Mold steel..."

Old Zhang muttered to himself, his voice shaking,

"This finish... how was this polished?"

"I don't believe it! A machine couldn't polish it to this level of luster!"

"It was polished by hand."

Lin Xi reached out to stroke the cold steel surface, his fingertips seemingly able to feel the warmth of his master Li Jianguo's large hands.

"Eighth-Grade Worker Li Jianguo from the Northwest Base, along with two other Eighth-Grade master craftsmen, didn't close their eyes for seven days and nights."

Lin Xi's voice was low,

"Using the finest oilstones and taking advantage of the heat treatment characteristics of this special steel, they ground the tolerance down to the 'si' level by sheer force of will."

"'Si' level..."

Old Zhang snapped his head up, his eyes rimmed with red,

"You... you're using the craftsmanship of Eighth-Grade Workers to make fans?"

"Why not?" Lin Xi countered,

"Who stipulated that fans have to be crudely made things?"

He turned to look at the officer:

"Thank Master Li for me."

"Tell him, I've accepted this 'blade'."

The officer nodded and, without a word of nonsense, led his team away.

They came like the wind and left like lightning, leaving behind only the wooden crate and a room full of workers who had yet to recover their wits.

"Don't just stand there dazed!"

Lin Xi clapped his hands, breaking the silence,

"Mount the mold! Factory Director Zhao, don't you want to make money anymore?"

"Make it! I want to make it!"

Zhao Dagang snapped out of his daze and leapt up from the ground, his voice so loud it cracked,

"Quick! Lift this treasure up!"

...

Ten minutes later.

A 'Red Star · Gentle Breeze' electric fan, produced entirely by the Hongfeng Factory, stood quietly on the workbench.

The five fan blades displayed a perfect streamlined curvature, looking as translucent as jade under the lights.

At the center of the blades was a bright red five-pointed star relief.

There was no expected buzzing sound.

If the fan blades hadn't instantly transformed into a blur of cyan shadows, no one would have even known it had started.

Lin Xi casually picked up Zhao Dagang's enamel mug, filled it to the brim with water, and gently placed it on top of the fan running at full speed.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes in the room stared fixedly at that cup of water.

The surface of the water was as calm as a mirror, without even a single ripple appearing.

Meanwhile, five meters away, the previously dejected-looking production schedule hanging on the wall...

...was flapping loudly like a flag in a gale, letting out a 'rustle-rustle' cheer.

Quiet as a maiden, moving like a startled rabbit.

Old Zhang suddenly covered his face and began to wail loudly.

This crying contained the release of frustrations held in for far too long.

They, a group of people who had built missiles, had been rubbed into the mud by life for too long.

They had almost forgotten that these hands of theirs were originally capable of reaching for the stars.

Zhao Dagang also wiped away a handful of tears and turned to look at Lin Xi with a fanatical gaze.

"Manager Lin..."

"Stop crying."

Lin Xi picked up the cup of water, drained it in one gulp, and said, "Save your strength for work."

He walked to the window, looking at the sky outside as it gradually turned the color of a fish's belly.

Hongfeng Factory was alive.

With this mold, with this group of master craftsmen who had regained their dignity, and plus the complete chemical supply chain of Magic City...

...that envisioned industrial monster of 'Northwest R&D Brain + Coastal Manufacturing Body' had finally opened its first eye.

"Little Wang," Lin Xi called out without turning his head.

Wang Weidong hurriedly scrambled out:

"Lin... Brother Lin, what are your orders?"

"Go call the Foreign Trade Bureau and notify Customs."

Lin Xi placed the empty tea mug heavily on the windowsill with a crisp clatter.

"In 10 days, the first batch of ten thousand Red Star fans will be sent to Shiliupu Pier."

"Tell the Lighthouse Country people that their life-saving medicine has arrived."

Wang Weidong looked at that upright back in the morning light.

In a daze, he felt that it didn't look like someone about to do business, but rather like someone about to conquer the world.

"Yes!"

...

Hongfeng Machinery Factory, Factory Director's Office.

Zhao Dagang was muttering incessantly like a nouveau riche:

"Manager Lin, we've struck it rich this time! We've really struck it rich!"

"When the money hits the account, I'll slaughter two pigs first! Meat for the whole factory! It must be pork belly!"

"Then we'll pay off all the back wages, and I'll have new uniforms made for everyone, the Dacron kind!"

Lin Xi looked at Zhao Dagang's face, flushed with excitement, and didn't take up the topic of "slaughtering pigs."

He walked over to that mottled map of China and tapped on it twice with his finger.

"Factory Director Zhao, are you satisfied with just two pigs?"

"US dollars are meant to be spent, not saved."

Lin Xi turned around, his eyes sharp,

"Fans are just the beginning. We're going to use the money earned from fans to do bigger things!"

"Update the equipment! Strengthen technical research and development!"

Lin Xi pointed to the brightly lit workshop outside the window,

"Don't let the skills of the master craftsmen go to waste."

"That feel for making missile tail fins, that extreme sensitivity to tolerances—all of it must be preserved."

"Manager Lin, are we... going to build missiles again in the future?"

Zhao Dagang asked tentatively, his voice trembling.

"No, we're going to build things that are more profitable than missiles and require even more precision."

A glint from the year 2025 flashed in Lin Xi's eyes.

"Precision machine tools, compressors, car engines, and even... components for chip lithography machines."

"When that day comes, Hongfeng Factory will no longer be a broken factory on the verge of bankruptcy, but the pearl on the crown of the entire Chinese industry."

"By then, let alone pork belly, I'll have your workers driving their own cars to work."

Zhao Dagang took a deep breath, suddenly threw his cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it, his eyes reddening as he stood up straight.

"Manager Lin, say no more." Zhao Dagang's voice was hoarse,

"This dream is huge, but I, Zhao Dagang..."

"...am buying in!"

"From now on, these eight hundred-plus people of Hongfeng Factory are yours to command!"