Chapter 29: Graduation Eve, System Reward

Dawn was just breaking when Zhao Jianguo woke up. He didn't rush to get out of bed, lying on the kang and listening to the sounds from the outer room. The lamp was still on, the paper window reflected two silhouettes—one sitting, one hunched over, a pen tip rustling across paper. He knew they were his father and Jia Dongxu, pulling another all‑night shift.

The scene steadied his mind. In the factory incident a couple of days ago, Zhao Erniu used a 0.009‑mm part to shut down all the idle chatter. Yi Zhonghai's little moves couldn't stir up a big wave. Now the most urgent matter was his own—three days left until his vocational‑school graduation, and the campus check‑in Permission would expire as well.

He rolled off the kang, splashed his face, slung his backpack on and left. The morning breeze cleared his head. Passing the supply‑store entrance, he paused, instinctively feeling the Storage Ring on his wrist. Inside were piles of sweet potatoes, cornmeal, and two small bottles of vitamin tablets. He knew that however full, these supplies couldn't sustain a multi‑year famine. What truly saved lives were information and skills.

At school, a crowd had already gathered in front of the training building. A few classmates circled the bulletin board, chattering about assignment options—"go to the factory as a technician", "stay on campus as a teaching assistant"—their faces animated. Zhao Jianguo didn't join them, just stood at a distance listening, a faint smile tugging his lips.

Now he watched it all like a child playing house. When the crucial moment arrives, only those with skill and reserves can stand firm.

He slipped around to the back door of the training workshop and pushed it open. Inside was empty; the machine tools were all covered with dust‑covers, and only a few shafts of sunlight slanted in through the high windows, landing on the Operation Console, where specks of dust drifted lazily in the light beam.

He walked to the machine tool he usually used, lifted the cover, and gently pressed a finger on the control panel. The System Prompt tone rang in his mind instantly:

"User graduation detected; triggering 'Final Chapter Reward' mechanism."

Zhao Jianguo's heart tightened; he held his breath.

"Reward granted: Industrial Machine Tool Operation Manual (full version), 500 Vitamin C tablets."

He almost laughed out loud. This system finally had a hint of humanity.

He wasn't surprised by the manual; after all, he'd clocked in at this training workshop hundreds of times, so the system should have accumulated something decent. But 500 Vitamin C tablets… that wasn't a trivial amount. In famine years, this stuff was tougher than grain coupons. Surviving without meat is possible, but a chronic vitamin deficiency leads to bleeding gums, non‑healing wounds, mild disability or even death. Moreover, the tablets could be bartered—a single medicine board could fetch half a sack of coarse rice, not an exaggeration.

He slipped to the restroom, locked the stall, and opened the Storage Ring. The pills clattered in, and he promptly packed them into a sealed jar, labeled it "C500", and tucked it into a corner. The manual was a hefty paper volume, its cover reading "Internal Materials of the First Mechanical Industry Department"; he flipped through a couple of pages, which were filled with large machine tool schematics, commissioning procedures, fault‑diagnosis tables, even the hydraulic system's oil‑flow diagrams drawn in crystal‑clear detail.

"If the senior craftsmen at the factory saw this, they'd be scrambling to take me as their apprentice," he muttered low, shoving the manual into a pocket of his backpack, pressed beneath a few specialty textbooks.

Just as he left the restroom, someone at the far end of the hallway called his name.

It was Jia Dongxu.

【7】 He wore a bleach‑faded work uniform, a canvas bag slung over his hand, his face a little tight, as if he'd walked a long way.

He wore a faded work uniform, held a canvas bag in his hand, his face a bit taut, as if he had walked a long way.

"Jianguo, is your dad home?"

Zhao Jianguo gave him a glance and shook his head: "He hasn't returned yet; probably around noon."

Jia Dongxu let out an "oh" and stayed rooted, his toe dragging lightly on the floor.

Zhao Jianguo wasn't in a hurry, leaning against the wall while waiting for him to speak.

The two were silent for a moment, then Jia Dongxu whispered, "I… I don't want to study under Master Yi anymore."

Zhao Jianguo gave no reply, just watched him.

"What he teaches… is just surface stuff," Jia Dongxu's voice dropped, but each word was clear, "Last time with that eccentric wheel, I followed your advice and checked the data; it wasn't the 'material aging' he claimed, it was a mis‑adjusted assembly clearance. He doesn't even get that, yet he called me 'wild speculation'."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, offering no rebuttal.

"But… switching masters, isn't that… not very proper?" Jia Dongxu lifted his head, his eyes a little unfocused, "Our trade places great emphasis on the master‑apprentice bond. If I really switched, people would say I've repaid kindness with ingratitude."

"Did you choose your master yourself, or was he assigned to you?" Zhao Jianguo finally smiled.

"This…" Jia Dongxu was taken aback.

"Master Yi is your master, but your dad is your father," Zhao Jianguo said evenly, "He provides you food and clothing—what for? So that you can someday support this family. If you don't learn real skills now, what will you use later to feed a wife and children? What will you give your parents for their retirement?"

Jia Dongxu moved his lips but said nothing.

"Craft is a livelihood," Zhao Jianguo patted his shoulder, "A master can lead you to the door, but the road must be walked by yourself. If you truly want to shoulder this family, you must choose someone who can teach you real things. As for what others say… once you someday produce a 0.01‑mm part, they'll naturally shut up."

"I… I want to change masters," Jia Dongxu said, looking up after staring at the ground for a long time.

Zhao Jianguo neither nodded nor shook his head, just said, "If you go your way, I'll stay right here."

The two walked together toward the Zhao Family. On the way, Jia Dongxu became talkative, asking about heat‑treatment processes and tool angles, which Zhao Jianguo answered one by one. Near the house gate, Jia Dongxu suddenly stopped and pulled a sheet of paper from his canvas bag.

"This is the improvement sketch I drew last night for the shaft sleeve, added an oil‑guiding groove—could you take a look?"

Zhao Jianguo took the drawing, scanned it, and nodded: "Not bad, stronger than the last time."

"Then… when I officially change masters, could I… still ask your dad?"

Zhao Jianguo returned the drawing: "That depends on whether he's willing to take you. But if you're truly decided, I'll ask him for you."

Jia Dongxu gave a firm nod, carefully folded the drawing, and slipped it back into his bag.

After arriving home, Li Xiaohua was busy steaming sweet potatoes. A few baskets of small, purple‑skinned ones sat by the stove, looking sturdy. Zhao Jianguo knew she had brought them back from the countryside a while ago, calling it a 'taste‑test'; his mother actually took it seriously, steaming a pot every few days.

"Your dad stayed up late again last night teaching Dongxu to draw, working until almost dawn," Li Xiaohua said, lifting the pot lid, "I said two words to him and he complained I was noisy. Look at this house full of smoke—it's choking."

"If he's willing to teach, let him," Zhao Jianguo said, taking the lid, "Dongxu's kid has finally had an insight now."

"Having an insight is one thing, but he can't come to our house every day," Li Xiaohua muttered, "If Master Yi finds out, he won't be able to gossip?"

"Gossip?" Zhao Jianguo cut a piece of sweet potato, took a bite, sweet with a hint of sand, "When Dongxu someday outperforms his own apprentices, he won't even dare to gossip."

Li Xiaohua glared at him: "You stop egging on the commotion."

Zhao Jianguo didn't argue, just placed his backpack on the table, opened the inner pocket, and pulled out the operation manual. He flipped to the hydraulic system chapter, engrossed, when Li Xiaohua suddenly leaned over: "Where did you get this book? It looks pretty high‑end."

"The school issued it," he replied casually.

"Why issue that? Aren't you all studying pipe fitting?"

"Now everything's mechanized; just knowing how to file a flat surface isn't enough." He closed the book, "When the factory gets new equipment, those who understand this will be promoted first."

Li Xiaohua gave him a skeptical look, then turned to tidy the stove.

Zhao Jianguo flipped the manual to the fault‑diagnosis page, marked several key points with a pencil. He knew that merely having the manual wasn't enough; he had to master it quickly. When the famine struck, factory output would surely suffer, and whoever mastered the core technology would hold the say.

That evening, Zhao Erniu came back later than usual.

"Did the factory hold a meeting?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"Hmm," Zhao Erniu took off his work clothes and sat on the edge of the kang, "The higher‑ups said they're launching a 'Technical Leap', aiming to double the number of eighth‑grade workers across the plant by year‑end."

Zhao Jianguo raised an eyebrow: "Isn't that reckless? Can eighth‑grade workers be assigned arbitrarily?"

"Who says it's not? Yi Zhonghai was the first to sign up, bragging 'Old Zhao can make a 0.009, so can I.'"

Zhao Jianguo almost laughed: "He's just blowing hot air."

"Blowing or not, the higher‑ups like to listen," Zhao Erniu sighed, "Now the wind's against us; the less capable are the boldest. I reckon soon we'll have a 'Mass Appraisal', and whoever gets the most votes climbs up."

"And you?"

"Me? I signed up," Zhao Erniu said, looking at him, "But I have to wait for your graduation. Once you leave, the family relies on me alone. If I'm transferred to the northwest for a project, what will happen to your mother and you?"

Zhao Jianguo felt warm inside, and said nothing.

He knew his father was making concessions for him.

"Dad," he said softly, "once I start working I can earn money too. What you ought to fight for, you still have to fight for."

Zhao Erniu waved his hand: "No rush. Right now the most important thing is to keep the family steady."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, took out a manual from his schoolbag: "Take a look at this, newly issued, I think it will be useful to you."

Zhao Erniu took the book, flipped a few pages, his eyes slowly brightened.

"This... this is really good stuff." He rubbed his fingers on the drawing, "If we adjust that old boring mill in the factory according to this, its precision can improve a notch."

"Take your time looking." Zhao Jianguo stood up to get water, "I still have some homework."

He returned to his room, took out a sealed canister of vitamin C from the Storage Ring, counted them—five hundred tablets, not one missing. He put the canister at the bottom of the drawer, pressing it under a stack of old exercise books.

Outside the window, the light in Zhao Erniu's room was still on. Father and son leaned heads together reading that manual, their shadows cast on the wall, one big one small, steady and steady.

Zhao Jianguo sat back at the desk, opened his notebook, and wrote on the newest page:

"Before famine arrives, grain and medicine are ready; with skill in hand, the home can be defended."

He closed the notebook and set down the pen.

Just then, Dong Xu's voice came from the courtyard gate:

"Uncle Zhao, did I calculate this chain size correctly?"