Chapter 22

The sound of the latch pulling open was faint, but Zhao Jianguo didn't stop moving. He had already heard those two knocks—unhurried, as if afraid of startling someone, yet also as if he had made up his mind. When the door opened, a cold wind swirling with coal ash rushed in; Jia Dongxu stood in the doorway, the flashlight's beam crookedly shining on the threshold, his toe almost scraping the doorframe.

"Not asleep yet?" Jia Dongxu's voice was hushed, as if afraid to disturb the whole Courtyard.

Zhao Jianguo stepped aside, "Come in, it's windy outside."

Jia Dongxu didn't move; instead he shut the door, slipped the flashlight into his trouser pocket, rubbed his hands, "I only wanted to say a couple of words, I'm not going in. You… really got into the technical college?"

"Hmm," Zhao Jianguo nodded, "Mechanical Technical College, Mechanical Manufacturing major, reporting next week, will only come back on weekends."

Jia Dongxu let out an "oh," lowered his gaze to his own shoe, his toe nudged the floor as if searching for words. After a while, he lifted his head, his voice so low it was almost inaudible: "Jianguo, I… can barely hold on."

Zhao Jianguo gave no reply, just stood there, waiting for him to continue.

"Master Yi… it's been three years, the Level‑2 worker card is holding me back from promotion. In the factory fixing machines, he only lets me do the grunt work. That time the press malfunctioned, it was clearly the drive shaft clearance that was off, but he insisted on replacing the bearings. Replaced three, still broke. In the end the senior master secretly adjusted the parameters, and it finally worked."

He sighed, his voice trembling: "My wife, a couple of days ago, was crying in the Kitchen holding the child. The child cried hungry in the middle of the night, she soaked some broken corn kernels in water to feed him. I… as a father, I can't even provide a full Meal Ticket."

Zhao Jianguo felt a heaviness in his heart. He hadn't failed to anticipate this day, but hearing Jia Dongxu actually say it made him feel suffocatingly blocked.

"Your father was also a Level‑2 worker back then," Zhao Jianguo suddenly said.

Jia Dongxu was startled, "How do you know?"

"I've seen the old roster at the factory," Zhao Jianguo said calmly, "Your father wasn't lacking in skill, but Master Yi kept holding him back, saying his 'hands are careless and sloppy.' Have you ever flipped through his tool bag? The marks on that Wrench were self‑etched positioning marks; even standard parts can't be that precise."

Jia Dongxu moved his lips, but said nothing.

Zhao Jianguo looked at him, "Have you ever considered that the 'experience' he taught you is actually not experience at all, but a deliberate holdback?"

"But… but he's my master," Jia Dongxu's voice wavered, "Since I was a kid, he told me, 'Craftsmanship cannot be passed on,' 'Outsiders are unreliable.' I always believed that."

"Whether you believe it now or not, that's not important," Zhao Jianguo said, "What matters is that you survive first. The child is starving, the wages are blocked, and you're still talking about master‑apprentice loyalty?"

Jia Dongxu lowered his head, his fingers picking at the edge of his trouser pocket, his knuckles turning white.

"I'll be back on Saturday," Zhao Jianguo said, "Bring your tool notebook and that factory book 'Mechanical Foundations.' I'll teach you a few things—not to get you a new master, but so you won't have a machine jam your Meal Ticket again."

Jia Dongxu jerked his head up, "Does this… count as… betrayal?"

"Betrayal?" Zhao Jianguo smiled slightly, "If your father had someone willing to teach him real skills back then, would he have died of exhaustion in the workshop at thirty? If you truly think this is betrayal, then go kneel back there and keep swapping bearings."

Jia Dongxu froze there, his face flushing red and then pale.

"Zhou, don't let anyone see."

Jia Dongxu said nothing else, turned and left. His silhouette was slightly hunched, as if something had bent him down.

Zhao Jianguo closed the door, returned to the desk, flipped over the paper that had "Goal" written on it, its back blank. He picked up his brush and wrote a heading: "Jia Dongxu Teaching Plan (Phase One)".

Below he listed several points:

Start with disassembling the bench vise, explaining the relationship between guide rail clearance standards and tactile error;

Use a press case to illustrate drive chain diagnostic logic, contrasting Master Yi's "replace‑part repair" with systematic troubleshooting;

Guide him to consult page 37 of 'Mechanical Foundations' on "interference fit"—a page Master Yi never let his apprentices turn to.

After writing, he blew on the ink marks, folded the paper and slipped it into the drawer. He knew that once this step was taken, there was no turning back. Master Yi would eventually notice, but now there was no time for that. If someone is starving, someone must first hand them a bowl of Meal Ticket.

"Zhou, there are many eyes outside."

Jia Dongxu entered, placed his bag on the desk, his hand trembling slightly. Zhao Jianguo wasted no words, directly pulled the old bench vise from the bag—it was something he had scavenged from the Scrap Yard, heavily rusted but structurally intact.

"First, take a look—how much can this guide rail move?"

Jia Dongxu reached out and pushed, sliding it back and forth a few times, "Hmm… about two millimeters of play, I guess? Master Yi says this amount can be judged by feel; too tight will jam instead."

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, took a vernier caliper from the drawer, snapped it open with a click, and clamped it onto the guide rail slider. Squinting, he read the measurement: "0.08 mm, three times the standard. The standard is 0.03 mm; exceeding this will wear the guide rail over time and render its precision useless."

Jia Dongxu leaned over to look, his eyes widening, "This… can this be measured?"

"Of course." Zhao Jianguo set the caliper down, "Your master's 'by feel' teaching, in plain terms, means you can't control precision. It's not that he can't, it's that he won't let you."

Jia Dongxu moved his lips, but made no sound.

Zhao Jianguo began dismantling the bench vise, explaining as he went: "Look at this lead screw; the thread wear is uneven, indicating chronic off‑center loading. The issue isn't the screw itself but the base's uneven mounting plane. Yet your master, when repairing such equipment, never considers installation datum; he just swaps the lead screw, and swapping ten of them is pointless."

He looked up at Jia Dongxu, "That press in your factory, the transmission box makes abnormal noises—did you also replace a bunch of parts, and it still rattles?"

"Yes… yes, we swapped Gear Sets, bearings, couplings, but when high pressure is applied, it still goes 'clack clack'."

"The root cause is deformation of the housing," Zhao Jianguo tore a sheet from his notebook, sketched a quick diagram, "A 0.1 mm deviation in the mounting plane makes the Gear Set mesh off‑center, increasing vibration. Your master can't detect it because he never taught you to use a surface plate and feeler gauge to measure flatness."

Jia Dongxu stared at the diagram, his hand gradually gripping the notebook tighter.

"Flip to page 37 of 'Mechanical Foundations,'" Zhao Jianguo said.

Jia Dongxu fumbled through the book, found the page, his eyes widening: "This… this 'interference fit'—Master Yi never covered it! He said 'the shaft and hole just need to be close enough,' but here it states that a 0.01 mm interference changes the assembly stress: too little and it's loose, too much and it fractures!"

"Right," Zhao Jianguo nodded, "What he skipped wasn't negligence, it was intentional. He leaves a handhold so you can't get away from him. The less you know, the more he matters."

Jia Dongxu sat there, as if his tendons had been pulled, motionless for a long while.

In the afternoon as the two were talking, a figure flickered at the Courtyard Gate; San Daye Yanbugui, carrying an empty thermos, passed by, saw Jia Dongxu emerging from the Zhao Family, and his steps faltered.

"Yo, Master Jia, not working overtime today? Still coming over to Jianguo's place to hang out?"

Jia Dongxu froze, about to speak, when Zhao Jianguo jumped in: "San Daye, you're just in time! Brother Jia helped me fix a stool; my pile of books is like a small mountain, the furniture breaks every day."

Yanbugui squinted inside, indeed there was a stool overturned, its legs still wrapped with iron wire.

"Oh—fixing a stool, huh," he elongated his tone, "Then you really should thank him properly; Jianguo, that kid, has many books and a meticulous mind."

"Of course, of course," Jia Dongxu quickly nodded.

After Yanbugui walked away, Zhao Jianguo escorted Jia Dongxu to the door, and before he left, whispered, "Bring 'Mechanical Foundations' next week, flip to page 37, make some notes. Whatever your master skipped, I'll fill in for you."

Jia Dongxu nodded, turned and walked a few steps, then stopped, "Jianguo… I'm a slow learner, I study slowly, you… don't find me annoying."

"I don't mind," Zhao Jianguo leaned against the doorframe, "As long as you don't think you're stupid, that's all that matters."

Jia Dongxu curled his mouth into a smile, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes gathered like a stone pressed for three years that finally cracked a fissure.

Zhao Jianguo watched him walk away, returned inside, stored the bench vise parts into a box, casually retrieved the teaching plan again, and marked a check after "Phase One."

He knew this matter couldn't be rushed. Jia Dongxu still thought it was just "learning some supplemental knowledge," but when someday he takes a vernier caliper in the workshop and measures Master Yi's taught "standard clearance" to be five times off—

that seed should finally sprout.

Another Saturday, Jia Dongxu came as usual. This time he brought a newly bought notebook, its cover still bearing the factory‑issued "Advanced Individual for Technical Learning" label. Zhao Jianguo asked nothing further and simply took out a hand‑drawn diagram, spreading it on the table.

"Do you recognize it?"

Jia Dongxu looked, his face changed: "Is… isn't this the schematic of our factory's press machine gearbox? Where did you get it?"

"I drew it myself." Zhao Jianguo pointed to a note on the diagram, "Here, the support bearing position of the secondary Gear Set shaft; the design tolerance is H7/g6, but your master had you hammer it in when installing."

"He said… the thermal expansion‑contraction method is a hassle, the hammer is quicker."

"Faster?" Zhao Jianguo sneered, "Do you know that using a hammer for an interference fit makes the shaft bend slightly, the bearing's inner ring bears uneven load, and it will seize in less than three months. The bearing you replaced last month—did it burn out after just 37 days?"

Jia Dongxu jerked his head up, "How do you know?"

Zhao Jianguo gave no answer, only said, "Next week, bring a dial indicator. I'll teach you to measure the shaft's coaxiality. After you finish, go ask Yi Zhonghai yourself—why he never taught this step."

Jia Dongxu stared at the diagram, his hand slowly reaching out; his fingertip brushed the noted tolerance value, as if touching something he shouldn't have.

His hand trembled a little.