80: Chapter 80: New Product Rolls Off the Production Line, Su Chen's Vow

The all-hands meeting at 3:00 PM.

News traveled fast.

At 2:00 PM, Su Chen's private jet landed at Shenyang Taoxian Airport. By 3:00 PM sharp, he was already standing next to the newly completed machine tool in the special zone workshop.

Over three thousand employees from the entire factory packed the workshop and the open space outside, creating a massive crowd. For many, it was their first time seeing this legendary young entrepreneur.

Su Chen did not go up to the stage; instead, he stood on the workbench of the machine tool. He was dressed in the same dark blue overalls as the workers, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"Twenty-five minutes ago, I just got off the plane," his voice carried through the portable loudspeaker. "In the car, General Manager Zhao showed me this—"

He held up his phone, the screen displaying the inspection report for the hundredth test piece.

"This part is an aero-engine blade locating pin. The precision requirements are: diameter tolerance ±0.005 millimeters, form and position tolerance 0.003 millimeters." Su Chen paused, "One hundred pieces, all qualified."

He looked at the sea of people below: "What does this mean?"

No one answered.

"It means," Su Chen said, enunciating every word, "that Shenyang's Old Master Craftsman plus Xingchen's technology can build the best general-purpose machine tools in China."

Applause surged like a tidal wave.

"But this," Su Chen raised his voice, "is just the beginning!"

The applause stopped abruptly.

"Our goal is not to catch up with Germany or Japan," Su Chen jumped off the workbench and walked in front of the crowd. "Our goal is to define the industrial standards of the next era."

He took a handheld terminal from his assistant and operated it a few times. The entire white wall on the east side of the workshop instantly turned into a huge projection screen.

A 3D design blueprint slowly unfolded.

It was a machine tool so massive it was breathtaking—a five-axis gantry machining center. The crossbeam spanned eight meters, the workbench was three meters long, and it stood over two stories high. The structural design was full of power, with lines as sharp as a knife.

Next to the diagram, the parameters were listed: Target positioning accuracy: 0.001 mm, Repeat positioning accuracy: ±0.002 mm, Maximum load capacity: 32 tons, Spindle power: 80kW, Codename: "Taishan".

The sound of gasps echoed throughout the workshop.

"This machine's codename is 'Taishan'." Su Chen's voice seemed small in front of the huge projection, but every word hammered into people's hearts like a nail. "We will use it to process high-speed rail bogies, wind power main shafts, aircraft carrier elevator racks, and new-generation rocket fuel tanks."

He turned around, facing the projection and everyone present: "And it will be built right here—" Su Chen pointed at the ground beneath his feet, "in this factory area of Shenyang Machine Tool, created by everyone present here together."

Silence. Absolute silence.

Then, Ma Zhendong was the first to raise his hand and start applauding.

Then came Liu Jianguo, Zhao Tiezhu, Zhang Rui, and all the Old Master Craftsman and young people.

The applause was slow at first, one beat, another beat, like a heartbeat. Then it grew faster and louder, finally converging into a deafening roar that echoed in the workshop, rushed out of the factory building, and resounded throughout the entire factory area.

The applause lasted for a full three minutes.

No one directed it, no one led it. It was just over three thousand people, in the simplest way, expressing that they understood, they believed, and they were willing.

Epilogue: A Circulating Photo

As the applause gradually subsided, Xiao Liu, a newly hired officer in the factory publicity department, snapped a photo.

In the foreground of the photo was Liu Weiguo—he insisted that everyone call him by his real name, saying that the name "Jianguo" was given by his father and could not be forgotten. The old man was wearing washed-out but neatly ironed overalls, with a brand-new Xingchen work badge pinned to his chest. His left hand rested on the "Jingwei-Shenyang Edition" machine tool, his palm broad and thick, his knuckles large, covered in calluses and scars. His right hand gave a thumbs-up, his eyes looking towards the lens, his eye sockets still red, but a smile hung on the corners of his mouth.

The background was the blurred crowd in the workshop and the huge "Taishan" concept diagram on the wall. The light from the projection hit the old man's face, making the edges of his gray hair glow with a faint light.

At the bottom of the photo, Xiao Liu added a small caption: "Old Veteran, New Brand."

That night, the photo was uploaded to Xingchen's internal corporate app, "Spark Circle." The caption was simple: "The first product from the Shenyang base has rolled off the line, with precision exceeding the Guancheng record. Saluting the Old Master Craftsman."

Within twenty-four hours, the photo received over ten thousand likes.

The comments in the section piled up:

Top comment (from a young engineer at the Guancheng base): "The brand has changed, but the hands that build the machines are still those same hands."

Second comment (from a young technician at the Shenyang base): "I was on-site today. When Master Liu's inspection results came out, I really cried. My dad is also in the factory, and he said this is the first time in thirty years he's felt a sense of hope."

Third comment (from the HR Director at Xingchen Headquarters): "This is true integration. It's not about who annexes whom, but an old tree sprouting new buds."

Fourth comment (anonymous, suspected to be an Old Master Craftsman): "'Tighten two and a half turns, back off half a turn'—the methods of our ancestors have been written into the standards today. It was worth it."

At 11:00 PM, Su Chen was on the balcony of his temporary residence in Shenyang, flipping through these comments.

Zhao Tiezhu walked over and handed him a cup of hot water: "Still not sleeping?"

"Can't sleep." Su Chen put down his phone and looked at the scattered lights of the factory area outside the window, "Tiezhu, did you hear that applause today?"

"I heard it."

"That wasn't for me," Su Chen said softly, "It was for themselves. They've been stifled for too long and needed a proof—to prove that they are not a burden, but a treasure; to prove that this factory is not a liability, but a gold mine."

Zhao Tiezhu nodded: "Today is just the beginning. The 'Taishan' project is more than ten times harder than 'Jingwei'."

"I know," Su Chen took a sip of water, "but we have the best Old Master Craftsman, the best young people, and the best team integrating the North and South. And—"

He paused: "And that spirit. That spirit of 'must fight for this breath'."

In the distance, the lights in the special zone workshop were still on.

Ma Zhendong, Liu Jianguo, and Zhang Rui were still inside. It wasn't overtime; they just couldn't bear to leave that machine tool. They surrounded it, touching this, adjusting that, like they were admiring their newborn child.

The windows of the workshop emitted a warm yellow light, under the July night sky, like a star that had just been polished bright again.

And a greater journey had already revealed its first dawn on the horizon.