Chapter 116: Automatic Sorting, Jia Dongxu's Breakthrough

Zhao Jianguo's hand just touched the draft paper in his trouser pocket, and that slight vibration came again—three quick, evenly spaced taps, like someone tapping Morse code from afar. He made no sound, only pinched the paper corner tighter.

Dawn had just broken, the Courtyard still quiet, only the sound of a broom sweeping over blue bricks. When he stepped out the Courtyard Gate, Jia Dongxu was squatting at the Night School entrance, holding a small file cutter, busy tinkering with the railway guy's device. The machine looked fresh, its sieve net slanted, three wooden bins below were clearly separated, the motor hummed softly, causing the whole equipment to tremble slightly.

"You start work this early in the morning?" Zhao Jianguo asked as he approached.

Jia Dongxu looked up, his eyes darkened, but a smile spread on his face: "Couldn't sleep. Yesterday I heard Sha Zhu talk about the feed‑cart, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt the food side could also save effort—canteen grinding flour, rinsing rice, sorting beans, each one makes people bend over and pick for ages? So I tried making a sorting machine."

He said, standing up, and casually tapped the machine's casing, "Just now I tested it: two hundred jin of sorghum screened in ten minutes, the shriveled kernels and clods were all separated, error no more than three jin."

Zhao Jianguo walked around twice, feeling a heat in his heart. This wasn't just copying a cat, it was truly figuring out a method. He was about to speak when his wristwatch vibrated again—this time a short double pulse, as if responding to something.

Before he could react, a person entered through the Courtyard Gate, shoes polished to a shine, suit crisp, carrying a silver‑gray box. Chen Jianguo stood at the doorway, glanced at the machine, and the corner of his mouth twitched imperceptibly.

"Not bad." he said, stepping a few paces closer, "Simple structure, easy maintenance, suitable for grassroots promotion."

Jia Dongxu nodded, saying nothing more.

Chen Jianguo added, "We have a technical cooperation group that specializes in reverse‑engineering precise equipment. Your design foundation is solid; if you're willing to go deeper, I can allocate resources to produce, within three months, an intelligent version with Optical Recognition."

Jia Dongxu was startled, shook his head: "I don't want to go underground making things. This machine is meant to sit at the canteen entrance, anyone can see it, anyone can fix it; if it breaks, just grab a Wrench and you can handle it. What I want is something everyone can afford."

The air fell silent for a moment.

Chen Jianguo wasn't angry, nor did he say anything else, he simply gave a light nod, as if noting the words.

At that moment, the lights went out.

It wasn't the "pop" of a circuit breaker, but the entire Courtyard, along with the Oil Lamp inside, went dark in an instant, even the wind seemed choked. A few seconds later, power returned and the lights came back on.

Zhao Jianguo reflexively sprinted to the sorting machine. He saw at once something was wrong—the drive shaft was idling, the Gear Set was missing. The edge of the gap bore fine scratches, as if a specialized tool had swiftly removed it.

He crouched, lightly brushed the gap with his fingertip, brought it to his eyes. A speck of pale blue powder clung to the metal edge, ultra‑fine, invisible unless examined closely.

Silently he took out his evidence bag and collected the residue.

"The Gear Set… I cast it last night," Jia Dongxu's voice trembled, "I made the molds myself, that's the only set I have."

Zhao Jianguo didn't turn around, only whispered, "They've set their sights on this place."

"Who?" Jia Dongxu asked.

"Those who want us to keep quiet," Zhao Jianguo stood, looking at the heart‑less machine, "And they chose this moment to act—if you don't accept the invitation, they immediately come to seize the thing. It shows they're not afraid of exposure, only afraid we might make a name for ourselves."

Chen Jianguo had stayed still, only now spoke, "Maybe it's a coincidence? Anyone can be hit by a power outage."

Zhao Jianguo turned to him, "Why hasn't the box you brought been opened?"

Chen Jianguo paused, "Inside is a backup power module, meant for exactly this situation."

"But you didn't take it out."

The two stared for a moment, then Chen Jianguo suddenly smiled, "Believe it or not, that's your business. But I'll remind you—don't let too many people know what you're doing lately. Some technologies, if spread too fast, die quickly."

Having said that, he turned and left, the box still in hand, his shadow stretched long.

Jia Dongxu watched his back, then the crippled machine, his fist slowly clenched: "What is this? All the hard work I put into this gets snatched away like that? Not even a word left?"

Zhao Jianguo placed his hand on his shoulder, "They left something. They forgot to clean it fully, leaving this bit of blue powder."

"What can it do? It can't be evidence to report."

"But it moves," Zhao Jianguo stared at the evidence bag, "This magnetic powder adheres strongly; once it sticks to a Carrier it's hard to detach. As long as it keeps circulating, within three days we can trace it back to the source."

Jia Dongxu looked up, "How will you trace it? Through that… system?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't deny, "It's been restless lately. Last night the draft paper vibrated on its own, just now it kept alarming. I think someone's trying to scan our Data Stream, maybe via some resonant frequency."

"Then why don't you shut it down? What if we get pinpointed?"

"Turning it off would be safe, but we'd lose the advantage," Zhao Jianguo slipped the evidence bag into his inner‑clothing pocket, "They want us to retreat, to stop innovating, to stop showing off. Now the machine's been stolen, which proves we're on the right track."

Jia Dongxu gritted his teeth, "So what's next? Build another?"

"Not a new one, repair the old," Zhao Jianguo walked to the machine, unscrewed the base bolts, "I recorded the original Gear Set dimensions, the material can be reproduced. This time I added a sensing filament inside the drive shaft—anyone who dares to dismantle it will instantly emit a tracking signal."

"You want to turn it into a trap?"

"Not a trap, an invitation," Zhao Jianguo smiled, "Invite them to come again."

Just then, Footsteps came from outside. Sha Zhu lugged a burlap sack in, saw the odd atmosphere, froze briefly, "What's this? Who owes you money?"

"The machine's been tampered with," Zhao Jianguo tightened the last bolt, "The Gear Set's gone."

Sha Zhu's eyes widened, "Who's so unscrupulous? This isn't just a grudge against everyone!"

"Exactly, it's a grudge against everyone," Jia Dongxu whispered, "The more useful it is, the more people don't want it to exist."

Sha Zhu dropped the sack onto the ground, "Then why repair it? Just abandon it!"

"Abandon it, who'd be happy?" Zhao Jianguo patted the machine casing, "They. I'm not only fixing it, I'm going to teach more people how to fix. This afternoon, Night School has an extra class—topic: Automatic Sorting Machine Principles and Simple Maintenance."

Sha Zhu blinked, "You aren't scared of another power outage?"

"Fear won't help," Zhao Jianguo took a piece of lead sheet from the Toolbox, embedded it into the motor compartment, "I've added a shielding layer. If another outage occurs, that's deliberate sabotage, and we'll catch them in the act."

Jia Dongxu took a deep breath: "I'll also teach the class. This thing I made, I have to tell the audience, the workers' hard‑work, not just for anyone to take."

Sha Zhu grinned: "Fine, I'll handle the water boiling and tea, keep the listeners awake! Anyone who doesn't come, I'll chase them around the Courtyard with a pot‑spoon ladle."

The three were talking, when Zhao Jianguo suddenly felt a heat on his cuff. He calmly raised his wrist, and the watch face showed a line of small text: "Detected high‑frequency Electromagnetic Pulse residuals, source direction: fifteen meters outside the Enclosure Wall, southeast side."

His eyes flashed, he said nothing, and quietly noted the location in his mind.

In the afternoon, the Night School doorway had early set up a Desk. Jia Dongxu stood at the front, holding the dismantled parts, explaining while demonstrating. Neighbors gathered in a circle; some listened attentively, others nodded half‑understood.

Mid‑lecture, Zhao Jianguo excused himself to the restroom, slipped around the Courtyard wall. He rummaged through the grass, found a flattened button cell battery, its shell charred, clearly a fragment of some wireless device.

He clutched the battery and walked back, colliding head‑on with Xu Da Mao peeking inside.

"What are you looking at?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"It's lively!" Xu Da Mao laughed, "Heard the Jia family kid made a divine machine that can sort rice? I came to see if it's real."

"It's real," Zhao Jianguo slipped the battery into his trouser pocket, "But genuine things always attract envy."

Xu Da Mao forced a dry laugh, "That's that, good stuff, everyone wants…"

Before he could finish, the Courtyard suddenly erupted with a shout.

Zhao Jianguo turned and ran.

Returning to the spot, he saw Jia Dongxu standing pale as a sheet, clutching a slip of paper in his hand—found in a compartment of the sorter's base, it read: "Next time, don't just take the Gear Set."