Chapter 464: Snow‑bound Movers

The night in Kyiv was black as spilled ink.

The cold wind swirled fine snowflakes, lashing the rust‑stained iron gate and the mostly collapsed brick wall of the "Red Forge" machine tool plant, producing a wail like a ghost's cry.

This massive factory, which once produced heavy tank crankshafts and submarine propellers, is now an abandoned steel graveyard.

The gigantic factory skeleton loomed grotesquely in the darkness, its shattered windows like hollow eye sockets.

Only a low auxiliary warehouse deep within the complex let a sliver of faint, almost imperceptible light seep through a broken door gap.

Inside the warehouse, the air was icy and murky, suffused with a pungent stench of rust, dust and rancid machine oil.

A few battery‑powered emergency lights were set to their dimmest, barely illuminating a small central area.

Under the light, a massive machine cloaked in thick oil and dust lay like a sleeping steel beast, quietly crouched on a concrete base.

On one side of the machine, a blurred Russian plaque read: "KPAHC-5M five‑axis linked CNC gantry milling machine, 1984, New Siberia Heavy Machine Tool Plant."

Chen Jianghe wore cotton gloves, his fingers lightly brushing the plaque, feeling its icy chill.

Next to him, Andrei Petrovich held a smaller flashlight, its beam carefully scanning the machine's critical parts—spindle housing, CNC cabinet, guide rail, lead screw.

The elder's breath condensed into white vapor in the cold air, his gaze behind the lenses focused with near‑devout intensity.

"That's it," Andrei whispered, his voice low and hoarse like metal grinding, "though it's early‑80s tech, the basic structure is solid and the precision exceeds expectations. The control system is closed, but the mechanical part… is a treasure. Especially this dual‑pendulum angle milling head—domestic factories might not reproduce it within a decade."

At the warehouse entrance stood the security Team Captain brought by Wang Dahu, a former reconnaissance company commander called "Shan Ying", standing like a black stone statue in the shadows.

He tilted his ear slightly, listening for any unusual sounds in the wind and snow outside.

His right hand hung seemingly casually at his side, just an inch from the hard object at his waist.

The other two team members guarded the other two corners of the warehouse, their silhouettes almost merging with the darkness.

The atmosphere was taut like a bowstring.

"Disassembly plan and transport route, confirm once more," Chen Jianghe withdrew his hand, his tone calm yet each word clear and forceful.

Beside him, a bespectacled heavy equipment engineer who had just flown in from China immediately spread out a hand‑drawn sketch.

"The main body consists of four major components: the bed, the column, the crossbeam, and the milling head. The bed is the heaviest, over twenty tons, requiring a heavy‑duty hydraulic lift and a specialized low‑profile flatbed trailer. The most troublesome parts are the control system and drive motors; their precision is vibration‑sensitive, so they must be individually packaged with shock‑absorbing material."

"Route," Chen Jianghe interjected.

"Three alternate routes have been surveyed. The optimal route exits through the damaged rear fence, takes the auxiliary road, bypasses the main checkpoint, and must reach the abandoned pier on the Dnipro riverbank before 4 a. m. The ship is ready, camouflaged as a scrap‑iron barge, departing before dawn, riding the current into the Black Sea to rendezvous with a cargo vessel waiting on the high seas."

The engineer spoke at a rapid pace, clearly having the plan memorized.

"Time window?" Chen Jianghe asked.

"From the first hydraulic lift bolt to fully loading and leaving the plant, in ideal conditions it takes five and a half hours. That assumes smooth disassembly, no unexpected interference, and weather that doesn't worsen further," the engineer adjusted his glasses, "but the forecast predicts heavier snow in the latter half of the night, which could impede heavy vehicles."

"No ideal conditions," Chen Jianghe said calmly, "prepare for six hours then. Shan Ying, outer situation?"

"Shan Ying" shifted, his voice low: "The plant has no living people right now, except wild dogs. But on the main road two kilometers away, vehicle lights lingered half an hour ago, left ten minutes later, model unknown. The neighboring plant shows signs of vagrants gathering; we need to be cautious."

Chen Jianghe nodded.

In places like this, more troublesome than overt enemies are the "hyenas" scavenging the ruins—perhaps local thugs, perhaps eyes sent by other forces to scout.

"According to plan, we commence in one hour. Mr. Andrei, you and the engineer will handle technical guidance. Shan Ying, your team controls all exits and entrances, establishing a perimeter. Use force only if necessary, but ensure the operation isn't interrupted."

The group replied in low voices.

Time drifted slowly amid the cold and the waiting.

The emergency lights were dimmed further.

Only suppressed breathing and the increasingly mournful howl of wind and snow remained in the warehouse.

Chen Jianghe leaned against the icy iron cabinet and closed his eyes.

In his mind, countless fragments of information gathered over the past days raced by.

This massive, suddenly dead industrial empire's wreckage was being coveted and divided by various forces at a staggering pace.

The Americans, armed with dollars and arrogance, headed straight for the most core aerospace and nuclear research institutes.

The Germans shrewdly targeted Precision Machine Tools and optical instruments.

The Japanese, like patient moles, silently gathered material formulas and process details.

And they, Wanshang, were like a low‑key yet efficient crew of "movers", leveraging years‑ahead positioning, a keen eye for true value points, and Chen Jianghe's covert network built here, to target the seemingly bulky, unremarkable but crucial "hard bones" that solidify China's industrial foundation.

For example, the machine tool before us.

It may not be as eye‑catching as a Tu‑160 bomber blueprint.

Yet for Chinese factories that aim to independently produce high‑end engine blades, submarine propellers, or even aircraft landing gear, its significance rivals that of a gold mine.

"Time's up."

Chen Jianghe opened his eyes, his gaze free of fatigue, only icy clarity.

"Begin."

At the command, the warehouse sprang to life instantly.

Several seasoned heavy equipment disassembly workers brought from China gathered around the massive machine tool like surgeons, silently and swiftly.

The schematics were re‑checked.

Specialized tools were passed along methodically.

The first bowl‑sized base bolt was seized by a massive hydraulic wrench.

"Squeak—Clank—"

A dull metallic screech rang through the cavernous warehouse, harsh to the ears.

Everyone's movements paused for a heartbeat, instinctively glancing toward the doorway.

Shan Ying raised his fist, signaling safety.

The disassembly continued.

Progress was slower than anticipated.

Years of neglect had left many bolts and connectors rusted solid, requiring repeated application of rust remover and even the use of electric heating rods for localized warming.

Heavy components require multiple people to cooperate, carefully moving them in the cramped space.

Sweat quickly soaked the workers' undershirts, then turned icy and bone‑chilling in the frigid air.

Andrei stared intently at every critical step, occasionally murmuring instructions in Russian.

His hand would occasionally tremble unconsciously.

He couldn't tell whether it was the cold or the sight of this machine, which embodied Soviet industrial glory, being dissected in such a way and about to be shipped to the distant East.

His mood was complex and indescribable.

Three hours later, the bed separated from its foundation, slowly lifted by a hydraulic jack.

The crossbeam and the columns were also critically dismantled.

The most precise double‑pendulum angle milling head and the CNC cabinet were carefully packed with multilayer shock‑absorbing material and wooden crates.

Just as the workers were about to shift the heaviest bed onto the waiting dedicated trailer—

"Chief, there's a situation," Shan Ying's voice came through the tiny ear‑mic, calm but with a hint of tension.

"Speak."

"Outside the east side fence of the plant, vehicle lights approached—two vehicles, now stopped. A few people got out, carrying flashlights, heading this way. By their manner, they're not vagrants."

Chen Jianghe felt a chill in his gut.

"What's their angle?"

"Can't see clearly, but one of them is carrying… something like a metal detector? Damn, they could be local thugs coming to 'scrap metal', or… other 'scavengers'."

The air in the warehouse froze instantly.

The workers halted their actions and looked at Chen Jianghe.

The critical components had just been dismantled, in their most fragile state. If a clash occurred now, not only would all prior effort be wasted, but the equipment could also be damaged.

"Can we go around?" Chen Jianghe asked softly.

"They're blocking the only route to the back door. Forcing through would be too noisy," Shan Ying replied.

Chen Jianghe's mind raced.

Show weakness? No; the other side would press their advantage and might even uncover the warehouse's secret.

Force a confrontation? The risk is too high and could attract unnecessary attention.

His gaze swept over the corner of the warehouse where genuinely scrap metal and parts, collected from other dilapidated workshops, were piled.

A thought flashed through his mind.

"Shan Ying, take two people and go 'meet' them. Bring a few bottles of vodka and… that small bag of dollars. Tell them you're from Helsong Waste Recycling Company, looking for sellable scrap copper and iron here. This piece of 'fat' (referring to the machine tool) has caught your eye; ask them to do you a favor. Keep the tone polite, but don't be too soft."

He paused, then added, "If they don't cooperate… non‑lethal expulsion is permitted, but it must be swift, clean, and without firing guns."

"Understood," Shan Ying replied briefly, his figure vanishing quickly into the darkness at the warehouse entrance.

Inside the warehouse, time seemed to stretch.

Each second was accompanied by the thundering heartbeat of the wind and snow outside.

Chen Jianghe signaled the workers to take temporary cover, leaving only two to perform minimal securing work beside the machine tool.

Andrei's complexion paled slightly, and he subconsciously clenched his fist.

A few minutes later, Shan Ying's lowered voice came through the ear‑mic: "It's done. A bunch of local thugs, hearing that a 'big shot' waste collector was coming from the south, tried their luck. We gave them some booze and cash, sent them away. They didn't suspect anything, thinking we really were scrap‑metal collectors."

Everyone exhaled in relief.

"Make haste!" Chen Jianghe ordered immediately.

The dismantling and loading speed surged abruptly.

One and a half hours later.

All critical components, including the massive bed, were securely fastened onto two Camouflaged low‑flatbed heavy trucks and a box truck.

Inside the warehouse, only the hollow base and a pile of truly useless junk remained.

Chen Jianghe performed a final check, ensuring no trace remained that could reveal the source.

"Withdraw."

The convoy's low‑beam lights flickered weakly as it slowly exited the dilapidated warehouse, rolling over snow and rubble, disappearing into the snow‑storm night en route to the Dnieper River dock.

The warehouse returned to darkness and deathly silence.

It was as if that once‑storm‑ruling iron behemoth had never been here.

Half past five in the morning.

The sky remained pitch‑black, the snowfall easing slightly.

By the abandoned small pier, the barge had already lit a fire, ready to depart.

The heavy truck carefully transferred the cargo onto the ship.

The ship's captain was a weather‑worn Ukrainian old man; after taking a hefty freight fee, he asked nothing, silently directing the sailors to tighten the ropes.

When the last crate of precision components was hoisted aboard, the barge sounded a deep horn, slowly leaving the ice‑laden riverbank and heading toward the channel's center.

Chen Jianghe stood on the pier, watching the barge's vague silhouette merge with the dark river surface and snow curtain.

Cold snowflakes landed on his face, melting instantly.

Only now did his perpetually taut nerves relax a little, followed by overwhelming fatigue.

Yet within that fatigue lay a faint, scorching sense of satisfaction.

Another crucial "cornerstone" set off on its return journey.

"Chief Chen, go warm up in the vehicle first," Shan Ying walked over, handing a military‑grade water bottle filled with steaming strong tea.

Chen Jianghe took it and gulped a large mouthful.

The scalding liquid slid down his throat, dispelling the cold from his innards.

"Brothers, good work. Rotate rest periods, stay on guard. We'll withdraw once the ship has cleared a safe distance."

Yes.

Chen Jianghe looked toward the east.

There, the sky remained pitch black.

But he knew that soon, dawn would pierce this long winter night.

And what they were moving tonight was not merely dozens of tons of cold steel.

It was also a faint yet tenacious spark.

A spark taken from the collapsed giant's skeleton, about to reignite the light of industrial civilization on another land yearning for light and heat.

The wind and snow persisted.

The transport continued.

This silent yet crucial "scavenging" and "sowing" taking place amid the ruins of history has only just begun.

He tightened his collar and turned toward the vehicle parked in the shadows.

Behind him, the dark waters of Di Nie Bo He carried barges and hope, silently flowing southward, toward the sea, toward the future.