Chapter 939: Can We Get Recommended for Graduate School?

Director Yu

Li Huaide solemnly waved his hand, stopping Gu Weijie and others from speaking.

He said seriously: “The industrial development plan for the rolling mill is clear: all heavy industry projects must be relocated to Gangcheng.”

Director Yu Nong

After the director finished speaking, he turned to Jing Yujun and asked: “How many workers from our factory are expected to be relocated to Gangcheng?”

“At least fifteen thousand.”

Jing Yujun replied immediately: “Rolling mill workers must be relocated—that’s a fundamental production issue.”

“Good.”

Li Huaide turned to Li Xuewu and asked: “Comrade Li, Deputy Director, does the Economic and Trade Office still have new project quotas this year?”

“No, not even next year.”

Li Xuewu answered Director Yu: “On one hand, policy forbids it; on the other, finances won’t allow it.”

“Good.”

Li Huaide turned to Director Yu and said: “The current hiring standard for rolling mill staff is a high school diploma or higher.”

“Even if we absorb these skilled workers, we may not be able to use them.”

Also, according to the rolling mill’s industrial development plan, any absorbed workers must comply with reassignment and be prepared to work in the Northeast.

Director Yu

Li Huaide spoke earnestly and sincerely: “The rolling mill is part of the Ministry of Industry—we must shoulder the responsibilities we’re meant to bear.”

“But we must also act within our means, responsible to the rolling mill, to all its workers, and especially to the workers of the troubled factories you mentioned.”

“At least fifteen thousand workers need relocating, bringing the total displaced population to at least seventy or eighty thousand.”

“Within the next two years, the rolling mill has no new development projects planned—we’ll face a massive challenge of resettlement and relocation. You know what this means, right?”

“Alright, alright, I understand.”

Director Yu nodded and turned to the other members of the research team: “Then let’s discuss how to handle the reallocation of these personnel.”

“This…”

The Planning Department official he fixed his gaze on hesitated, then said: “We can only reallocate based on need—or assign them forcibly.”

“Then handle it that way.”

Director Yu lightly tapped the table and said to Director Zhang: “Before, they kept dodging and delaying, saying their worker quotas were exceeded.”

“Now that the worker issue is resolved, let them solve their own supporting staff problems.”

He turned to Li Huaide and added: “Now that we’ve settled the people, let’s talk about land.”

He knew the rolling mill’s leadership were all independent-minded; he glanced at them and asked: “What do you want the land for?”

After asking, he emphasized: “I’m warning you in advance—some branch factory lands are physically connected to the main plant, even within the same compound. How do you divide that?”

“Then we don’t want it!”

Li Xuewu frowned, irritable: “Everyone knows how to dump burdens, but no one speaks of taking responsibility. Does the rolling mill’s money grow on trees?!”

“I see—Director Li’s used to being a hero, can’t cry, can’t wail. Isn’t it true that the crying child gets the milk?”

“Oh!”

The large conference room fell silent; everyone turned to stare at Li Xuewu.

Director Yu was momentarily surprised, then chuckled at Li Huaide and said: “It seems the rolling mill’s leadership fully embodies democratic thinking!”

He nudged Li Huaide lightly, then tilted his head slightly and asked Li Xuewu: “You’re Deputy Director Li, right? This is a symposium—feel free to speak your mind.”

“Alright, I have something to say.”

Li Xuewu boldly took the floor, scanning the group: “Every factory faces difficulties—you can’t just go to the Ministry crying for milk!”

“The Ministry shouldn’t give other children’s nutrition to the ones who cry loudest!”

“Especially when they bully the quiet ones—those who shout loudest get to refuse!”

“If everyone learns this habit, the Ministry might as well stop working and just start holding funerals!”

The Ministry officials and accompanying staff all widened their eyes.

The rolling mill has some tough people—daring to speak out even to top leaders. This is a little cannon.

“Heh, no personal attacks—stick to the issues.”

Director Yu showed tolerance, waved his hand, and signaled Li Xuewu to continue.

Li Xuewu pointed to the documents before him: “We can absorb skilled workers, we can accept machinery—but you must provide conditions for relocation and resettlement, right?”

“Director Li isn’t asking for land to build factories across the whole city—he wants to exchange land to expand development space around the rolling mill.”

“To solve problems, you need the right attitude. If we’re always the ones paying, who bears the rolling mill’s losses and responsibilities?”

“For land others need, we’ll exchange it; for land no one needs, we’ll sell it.”

“Especially land inside the main plant’s compound—either pay us for exchange, or handle it yourselves. Otherwise, how will I resettle the workers I bring in? How will we produce?”

“My position is: the rolling mill doesn’t need to absorb any other factory—we can independently research and produce cars.”

“But if the organization needs us to, it should be a bonus—not a burden dragging us down!”

“Hmm, sharp!”

Director Yu paused after listening, smiled slightly, and nodded: “I was right—the rolling mill’s leadership is united, and they have fighting spirit.”

“Sorry, Director Yu.”

Li Huaide knew his role—he stepped forward with an apologetic smile: “Deputy Director Li is young, easily excited…”

“Ah~ it’s a symposium~”

Director Yu waved his hand, addressing everyone: “Truth emerges through debate; matters become clear through discussion. Little Director Li is right!”

He waved again: “We came here with bias—don’t blame them for speaking up.”

He turned to Li Xuewu and explained seriously: “You say the crying child gets milk, the loud one dares to refuse. But I say, even the stepmother finds it hard.”

Director Yu held up five fingers: “Even my own fingers aren’t all the same length—how can I make my heart perfectly even?”

“You mentioned Beijing Auto Factory just now, right?”

He nodded at Li Xuewu, then turned to the group: “I’ve worked in the First Machinery Ministry for years—I’ve handled more than a few loss-making, even unviable factories.”

“How do we handle them? Find a stepmother!”

Director Yu looked at the rolling mill team: “The factory that’s taken on the most stepmother roles, that’s absorbed the most troubled auto factories, is Beijing Auto Factory.”

“I want fairness—I want balance—but conditions don’t allow it.”

“Director Li, let’s all show mutual understanding.”

He looked at Li Huaide: “I know your situation well—I support your desire to develop and advance.”

“But the organizational family values collective progress, mutual improvement.”

Director Yu waved his hand, indicating the rolling mill team: “Sing the song of the mountain you’re on—it’s not wrong. But keep your vision long-term, your mindset calm.”

“Don’t you think I want the rolling mill’s auto industry to thrive?”

“I have no grudge against the rolling mill—I’m not some scheming saboteur of production, right?”

“These troubled factories are burdens, yes—but it matters who carries them!”

He pointed seriously at Li Huaide and others: “Old saying: near vermilion, you turn red; near ink, you turn black. The workers are good workers—it’s their leadership that’s failed, their thinking that’s flawed.”

As he spoke, Director Yu tapped his own head: “I was just telling Director Zhang and others—I’m pleased to see our enterprises now have independent thinking, self-reliance, and hardworking spirit.”

“Director Li, I can approve your demands right now—I’ll make the decision. We’ll discuss valuation details later.”

Director Yu looked at Li Huaide: “But remember—when you take these factories and workers as stepmother, don’t play favorites.”

“Don’t worry—no biological mother or stepmother here.”

Li Huaide, seeing the leader’s approval, nodded with a smile and assured: “The nation’s industry is one chessboard—all workers are one family. Once they enter the rolling mill, they’re rolling mill people.”

“Good! I like that!”

Director Yu turned to Li Xuewu with a smile: “How’s that, Little Director Li? Are you satisfied with this arrangement?”

“Personally, I firmly obey organizational decisions.”

Li Xuewu tilted his head slightly: “But please forgive me—I also firmly defend the collective interests of the rolling mill’s entire workforce.”

“As long as absorption doesn’t cause fiscal loss or asset depletion, even bearing part of the worker resettlement burden is acceptable.”

“Good!”

Director Yu nodded: “Today, visiting the rolling mill, I gained three insights: First, I saw unity and self-reliance.”

“Second, I resolved the long-standing problem of relocating troubled factories.”

“Third, I saw grassroots comrades who care deeply for the collective and the workers—daring to speak truth, daring to speak plainly. That’s excellent!”

“Director Li.”

Director Yu looked at Li Huaide: “I’m glad I came to the rolling mill today—I can rest easy entrusting the workers to you.”

Li Huaide’s mind was clacking like an abacus, his heart aching as if bleeding—but his face still wore a simple, earnest smile, and his words were quick and agreeable.

Perhaps feeling guilty for causing trouble, or perhaps embarrassed by Li Xuewu’s sharp words, the research team didn’t even stay for lunch.

Li Huaide didn’t mind—he smiled, gestured to a few people, and stood under the courtyard sun to speak.

“How was it?”

He grinned at Li Xuewu: “You’re always the one taking others’ advantage—today you got the short end, didn’t you?”

“Hey, you’ve got the nerve to joke!”

Li Xuewu smiled, pulled out a cigarette pack, and handed smokes to the other leaders—but not to Li Huaide.

These cigarettes were pinched from Old Li—borrowed flowers to offer Buddha, done perfectly.

“Finally got some projects going in Yangcheng! I told you to tone it down, tone it down—you went and blew it all!”

He feigned annoyance and complained to Li Huai: “This blowing up! You’d better have everyone in the capital know! Now look what you’ve done!”

“You’re blaming me?”

Li Huai chuckled and scolded: “Why don’t you admit you were blowing too? You even hyped up building the Liangma River High-Tech Industrial Park!”

“Neither of you should blame the other.”

Jing Yunong sighed, exasperated yet amused, stomped his foot, and rewrapped his scarf: “Let’s focus on solving the actual problems.”

Cheng Kaiyuan had already returned to the building; Xiong Bencheng had taken sick leave, so everyone standing in the courtyard was one of their own.

Gu Weijie exchanged a glance with Xue Zhifu and nodded: “We all know this is like cutting flesh—but if we don’t cut it, we’re doomed.”

“Mergers are a test for both sides.”

Xue Zhifu took a drag from his cigarette and said: “Looking at the steel mill’s past mergers, absorbing technology and integrating workers are long, complex processes.”

“The key is this merger isn’t forward-looking.”

Li Xuewu flicked ash and warned: “Reverse mergers can cause incompatibility. Our factory is already upgrading its technical workforce—future burdens will only grow heavier.”

“No choice. Today they dump, tomorrow we dump.”

Li Huai kicked at the brick floor: “But today, I must agree—this affects our factory’s future upgrade.”

He didn’t need to say it—everyone present understood. Director Yu had raised it at the meeting precisely because he was prepared.

When you’re under someone’s roof, you bow your head. A higher rank crushes you flat.

“Director Yu just took over this area—he wants to make an impact.”

Li Huai paused, then added: “Director Yu’s support for our factory goes without saying. Taking on this burden is also a favor.”

“So, the Technical Office and Construction Office will jointly form a special task force to coordinate the merger process end-to-end.”

“I don’t have time!”

Li Xuewu saw Li Huai’s gaze shift toward him and quickly waved his hands: “I’ve got lunch with the deputy president of the Steel Institute! We haven’t even finished the Five-Point-Seven directive yet!”

“Look at you!”

Gu Weijie laughed playfully: “Li Director hasn’t even asked you yet, and you’re already dodging. How can young cadres complain about hard work and fatigue?”

“So old cadres can complain?”

Li Xuewu refused to be baited: “You’re in the Construction Office—you’re better at organizing and coordinating. You’re the perfect fit for this task!”

“Pfft—who’s the old cadre?”

Gu Weijie scolded: “I think you haven’t studied properly, your thinking is incomplete, your personal quality needs improvement—you ought to be sent back to training!”

“No!”

Xue Zhifu waved his hand: “If he goes to training, who’s teaching whom—the teacher teaching the student, or the student teaching the teacher?”

They were referring to the Youth Cadre Training Class organized by the Management Committee Office—Li Huai proposed it, Gu Weijie implemented it.

The class advisor was Deputy Director Ao Yu-hua, a high-ranking official—clearly, Old Li was finally addressing his personnel management weaknesses.

Honestly, over eighty percent of the trainees were older than Li Xuewu—but when it came to actual ability, the few teachers selected from the offices weren’t necessarily better than him.

After all, he was head of the Factory Security Group, Deputy Director of the Management Committee Office, Deputy Director of the Economic and Trade Office, Deputy Director of the Technical Office, Deputy Director of the Construction Office…

Li Huai had piled on him half a dozen deputy director titles just so Li Xuewu could command operations.

After their laughter and banter, Li Huai decided: Li Xuewu would lead the coordination, but all present leaders must participate in execution.

There was no dodging it—so many factories merging in meant problems spanned every area under their management.

Li Xuewu had no escape—he was more exhausted as Deputy Director of the Management Committee than most factory committee deputies.

Of course, he didn’t name Cheng Kaiyuan—but Cheng was now truly idle!

The Production Group had two departments: Production and Design—one the largest in the factory, the other the smallest.

But now, neither of these two departments was under his control.

Group Leader Kuang Yusheng slapped a reviewer in the face right after his review ended last Saturday—this case is still pending in the Security Section.

Assault violates public order regulations, but since the case hasn’t been resolved, it stays open.

Zhou Yao had no intention of investigating—she’d deal with it when she retired.

Deputy Group Leader for Production was the newly transferred Xiao Zihong; Deputy Group Leader for Technology was former Technical Department Deputy Director Ji Jiuzheng.

None were Li Huai’s inner circle—but all were somehow connected to Li Huai’s “inner circle.”

(Leader’s inner circle—major headache)

Kuang Yusheng was Li Xuewu’s close friend; Xiao Zihong had been Li Xuewu’s partner in the Security Group; Ji Jiuzheng owed Li Xuewu many favors from automotive assembly projects.

So Cheng Kaiyuan’s life was like Wang Erxiao celebrating the New Year—worse every year.

“Teacher Han, President Pei.”

Li Xuewu met them in Xicheng—they’d arranged lunch over the phone.

Han Shu picked the place, but he’d dawdled with Li Huai and others, so he arrived late.

A server led them to a private room and greeted them with a smile.

This lunch was no ordinary affair—think about it: a private room, with a server escorting you up.

“Come on, Xuewu.”

Han Shu stood and waved him over: “No need to introduce you two, right?”

“You’re scolding me.”

Li Xuewu smiled and shook hands with the standing Pei Dayu: “President Pei looks worn out.”

“Thank you for understanding, Comrade Xuewu.”

Pei Dayu nodded deeply, then smiled and gestured for Li Xuewu to sit.

All three sat down; a server came to ask if they were ready to order, and Han Shu smiled and signaled yes.

After the server left, they resumed small talk.

“We were afraid you wouldn’t come—President Pei specifically asked me to invite you.”

Han Shu studied Li Xuewu and smiled: “Are you really busy—or just pretending?”

“Come on, you know me—I’m the worst liar.”

Li Xuewu sipped hot tea and sighed: “I got back last Friday; today’s the first time I’ve had a free moment.”

“I know a bit about the steel mill.”

Han Shu deliberately steered Li Xuewu to say this, to help Pei Dayu understand.

“Xuewu went to the frontier with your director, then the factory fell into chaos—he rushed back to handle it.”

He finished and turned to Li Xuewu: “Right, Xuewu?”

“That’s correct.”

Li Xuewu nodded: “Our factory’s situation is still relatively stable, but tensions remain sharp.”

“Plus, we’re launching new projects—some comrades can’t adjust their thinking, leading to disagreements.”

“We understand.”

Pei Dayu nodded. As servers began serving dishes, he changed the subject: “I’ve only just freed up time—I wanted to meet you as soon as I could.”

“I’d already arranged with Director Han, but something came up—never thought we’d finally sit together today.”

“Good things take time.”

Han Shu chuckled, looking at Li Xuewu: “I heard from Wenxue on the phone—your steel mill is thriving. That’s good.”

“It’s the result of unity and collective effort.”

Li Xuewu refilled their teacups, waited for the server to leave, then said: “The times are hard—we’re struggling to move forward.”

“Same for us. Eat.”

Pei Dayu gestured, and together with Han Shu, they picked up their chopsticks—the meal began.

They were hosting Li Xuewu; naturally, he observed the student’s etiquette.

Han Shu was his teacher; Pei Dayu was the president. Though both tried to downplay their roles and focus on work,

Li Xuewu could lower his status—but he’d never lower his own standards.

So the meal blended personal warmth between teacher and student with professional exchange.

Pei Dayu had always admired Li Xuewu—and even after his review was lifted, he still wanted to meet him.

Not just because Li Xuewu made a good impression personally, but because his work ability and thinking deeply impressed him.

After three rounds of drinks and five flavors of dishes, Li Xuewu set down his chopsticks—but his eyes still lingered on the meatballs on the table.

These meatballs were excellent—unfamous, but masterfully made.

In the Four-Nine City, eight out of ten restaurants serve meatballs—every kind imaginable, go ahead and eat.

In crosstalk routines listing dishes, meatballs appear most often.

Han Shu noticed his gaze and pushed the dish toward him; Li Xuewu gave him an embarrassed smile.

“I invited you today because the school needs your help.”

She glanced at Pei Dayu, then explained to Li Xuewu: “You know the Five-Point-Seven Directive—your factory is implementing it, and our school is too.”

“Mm-hmm, understood.”

Li Xuewu recited: “Study governance, study military affairs, study culture.”

“Engage in agricultural and sideline production, establish small and medium factories to produce needed goods and exchange them with the state at equivalent value.”

“You remember well.”

Pei Dayu picked up the thread: “The first half affects your industry and transportation system heavily; the second half specifically names us.”

“No need to mention criticizing bourgeois elements—it’s been thoroughly carried out.”

“But in terms of prioritizing study while also learning other things, our school still needs more exploration.”

He glanced at Han Shu, then said to Li Xuewu: “You’re a young cadre with rich work experience, and also a student of our school—I’d like to hear your opinion.”

“How could I dare?”

Li Xuewu smiled bitterly: “I knew the directive demanded not just studying literature, but also industry, agriculture, and the military.”

“The education system must be shortened; education must be reformed.”

He looked at Han Shu and Pei Dayu and said: “How exactly to reform, how exactly to learn—you two are education experts; how could I dare offer any opinion?”

“Hearing all sides leads to clarity.”

Pei Dayu sipped his tea and said: “Let me be specific—there are three main issues.”

“One is the approach to establishing small and medium-sized factories; the second is the three-learning channels—industry, agriculture, and the military; the third is suggestions on shortening the education system.”

He picked up the teapot and poured tea for Li Xuewu himself, his intent to seek advice unmistakable.

Li Xuewu looked at Han Shu and asked seriously: “Teacher Han, has the Literature Secretary given any instructions?”

“Now you’re talking.”

Han Shu smiled slightly: “Literature did offer some suggestions, but they’re still at the rolling mill—yours.”

“Don’t put it on me~”

Li Xuewu raised an eyebrow and turned to Pei Dayu: “Director Pei, let’s be open and honest—no hiding anything. You want to establish a school-enterprise partnership with the rolling mill, right?”

“You want me to act as a go-between?”

“That’s not what I meant~”

Pei Dayu waved his hand with a smile: “Of course, cooperation would be good—but what I really want to hear is your advice. After all, you’re the model of applying knowledge in practice at our school.”

“Look, you’re flattering me again.”

Li Xuewu thought for a moment and said: “If you truly intend to cooperate with our factory, I’ll offer a few simple suggestions.”

“First, regarding the construction of small and medium-sized factories, you must consider a series of cost budgets—investment cost, production cost, management cost, and so on.”

“Then combine that with objective factors like product function, quality, and market demand to determine whether the school has the capability and necessity to establish a factory.”

He raised one finger and said seriously: “I have one suggestion: the current cooperation model between Huaqing University and the rolling mill.”

“First, the rolling mill provides a research infrastructure, ensures living conditions for research teams, and offers R&D projects, supporting product transformation and other forms of support.”

“Second, the rolling mill provides internship channels for Huaqing’s faculty and students, including hands-on training in industry and management.”

Third, regarding the application of research results, the rolling mill pays research fees for targeted projects, offers bonuses for independently developed outcomes, and shares profits from technology commercialization.

Li Xuewu explained to Pei Dayu: “Huaqing University received three bonus payments from the rolling mill’s automobile project.”

“They were for engine R&D, transmission R&D, and powertrain R&D.”

“That’s…”

Pei Dayu sounded surprised, but internally he was already evaluating this cooperation model.

Li Xuewu continued: “Regarding the issue of industry, agriculture, and military learning, I’ll again use Huaqing’s cooperation as an example.”

“Huaqing’s faculty and students can intern across all workshops, administrative departments, and project teams of the rolling mill, including its subsidiary steelmaking plant and shipyard.”

“In terms of industry learning, the rolling mill fully accommodates the learning needs of faculty and students by providing training and living support.”

“Now, regarding agriculture and military training.”

Li Xuewu looked at Han Shu: “Our factory has a training base in the Miyun mountain region, and we also have a cooperative reclamation zone with the Third Guard Regiment.”

“In other words, for agricultural learning and practice, our factory can provide targeted training resources—and simultaneously offer military training during agricultural learning.”

“That’s right—Li Xuewu also serves as deputy regiment commander of the Third Guard Regiment.”

Han Shu explained to Pei Dayu: “The Third Guard Regiment’s garrison is right at the training site, which is why Literature recommended you consider the rolling mill.”

“Hmm, I’ve indeed considered this.”

Pei Dayu looked at Li Xuewu and gestured: “Continue—there’s a third point, right?”

“As for shortening the education system, I’m not a school cadre, nor part of that system—I really can’t speak authoritatively.”

Li Xuewu paused, then said: “But I can offer you a perspective from the angle of joint education.”

“First, let me introduce our factory’s teaching environment and needs.”

He took a personnel report from his bag and handed it to Pei Dayu: “This year, our factory completed its third round of personnel recruitment, and we’ve consistently required applicants to have at least a secondary school education.”

“Our goal is clear: while upgrading our industrial technology and production equipment, we must also update and replace our technical workforce.”

“Are you eliminating older workers?”

Pei Dayu looked up at Li Xuewu, not understanding what “updating and replacing” meant.

“Not by age—by technical skill.”

Li Xuewu explained: “Most of our current technical workers grew up through the master-apprentice system and lack standardized procedures.”

“What kind of standards?”

Pei Dayu, still focused on education, sensed this was what Li Xuewu was getting at.

“Teaching standards, operational standards.”

Li Xuewu emphasized: “Our factory has already established standardized work procedures and safety standards.”

“On that foundation, we must further unify and standardize technical education and safety training.”

“We run our own training classes, but they’re small-scale and targeted. Now, with more new employees, the educational pressure is growing.”

Li Xuewu returned to his original point: “I don’t know how to reform the school’s education system—but we could jointly establish a school with the rolling mill to implement a new technical education system.”

“Technical education?”

Pei Dayu thought for a moment: “So you mean narrowing and shortening the curriculum.”

“It still needs to be considered from multiple angles.”

Li Xuewu explained: “The trainees participating in our training absolutely don’t reach high school level.”

“Our factory needs to train a group of technical professionals based on junior high graduates, suited to our ongoing and production projects.”

“Hmm, that does shorten the education system.”

Pei Dayu nodded, understanding Li Xuewu’s meaning: under current training costs, only technical personnel were needed for now.

“One year per cycle.”

Li Xuewu said: “We propose a joint vocational school, initially not open to the public—training only current rolling mill employees.”

“Including night school, weekend classes, scheduled off-duty training, re-education for outstanding youth, job rotation re-education, and re-education for workers being phased out.”

Pei Dayu could see Li Xuewu had prepared thoroughly—even if not targeting the Steel Institute, he’d likely partner with other schools.

Of course, schools today were worthless, unable to restore teaching environments—all teachers were idle, even exiled for labor.

Li Xuewu was indeed prepared. He could guess Pei Dayu’s purpose in coming today—and so he went along with it.

“Earlier you mentioned the turnover of technical workers—I’ll emphasize again: positions are fixed, people are mobile—whoever is capable takes the post.”

“Through technical competitions, daily evaluations, quality assessments, and comprehensive scoring—if someone fails, they give up the position.”

Li Xuewu spread his hands: “Either choose to transfer and intern elsewhere, or voluntarily enroll in training and reapply for the position.”

“A new incentive system?”

Han Shu asked, surprised: “Has the rolling mill’s system changed so drastically?”

“No choice—too many people, too few positions.”

Li Xuewu explained: “In the future, position turnover at the rolling mill will increase even more, and training needs will grow higher. Only by learning until you’re old can you work until you’re old.”

“The latest management standard: workers who fail evaluations and choose transfer internships must go to subsidiary plants—only they have enough internship positions.”

“Those who choose self-study get a three-month grace period; if they still fail, they’re reassigned to a subsidiary plant.”

Both understood clearly: at this time, workers’ salaries were determined by rank—what level one worker earned, where they worked, was all fixed.

But under Li Xuewu’s described management standard, failing technical workers might be assigned to subsidiary plants—or even to manual labor posts.

A subsidiary plant a thousand miles away, and a manual labor post—combined, these threats would ignite the highest learning enthusiasm among rolling mill workers.

Pei Dayu looked up at Li Xuewu, then at Han Shu, and nodded: “This system is brilliant—but it’ll draw criticism.”

“A bit harsh, isn’t it?”

Han Shu smiled, his gaze fixed on Li Xuewu—clearly thinking: only he could come up with such a ruthless idea.

“You’ve misunderstood~”

Li Xuewu smiled, utterly unashamed: “This idea was actually proposed by Director Li of our factory.”

Han Shu’s eyelids drooped slightly, his lips twitching—he thought: I believe that for a ghost!

If Li Huai-de had come up with this, the rolling mill’s leadership would’ve been replaced long ago.

Why wait until now?

“Overall, one year per cycle—our leadership suggests we try it for one year first.”

“After one year, we’ll evaluate the teaching quality and outcomes, then decide whether to continue cooperation.”

Even if we continue, priority enrollment should go to the children of employees, supplemented by full-time training for outstanding young staff members.

“The goal is to cultivate technical backbone personnel for the rolling mill and partner enterprises, and to realize the renewal and advancement of talent.”

Li Xuewu smiled and spread his hands: “When I left, Director Li asked me to extend an invitation to you—welcome you and your Steel Institute students to visit, tour, and exchange with our factory.”

“We especially welcome your outstanding faculty and students to join our ongoing research and industrial projects, realizing your knowledge, ambition, and talent.”

“Thank you for your warm invitation, factory and Director Li.”

Pei Dayu looked at Han Shu, then said to Li Xuewu: “It’s truly an honor. I came today just to learn the situation—I never expected the foundation for cooperation to be so strong.”

“It’s thanks to Teacher Han’s relationship with Director Dong that this opportunity arose.”

He looked earnestly at Li Xuewu: “Teacher Han mentioned you’re still studying psychology—is it convenient? Our school plans to launch a psychology course soon.”

Pei Dayu formally invited: “I’d like to invite you to teach at our school—on psychology and its applications.”

“You’re overestimating me!”

Li Xuewu smiled humbly and said, “My level is barely good enough for work; if I were to actually teach, I’d probably be too scared to even step down from the podium.”

Saying this, he gestured toward Han Shu: “My master is still here—how could I become a teacher before finishing my own studies? That’s unacceptable, unacceptable.”

“A teacher transmits the Dao, imparts knowledge, and resolves doubts.”

Pei Dayu smiled and glanced at Han Shu, who wore a look of pride, then said, “I strongly support this view, but Comrade Li Xuewu must also continue his studies.”

“How about this: find a suitable time, have Teacher Han organize an introduction of the instructors, and schedule the lessons to help Comrade Li Xuewu complete his studies as soon as possible.”

“That’s a good suggestion.”

Han Shu understood Pei Dayu meant to provide Li Xuewu with customized instruction, and nodded in satisfaction: “With your approval, I’ll discuss the timing with the instructors.”

Before Li Xuewu could react, the principal and homeroom teacher had already arranged his studies for him.

Never mind that he was currently swamped—where would he find time to go door-to-door for lessons? Even if he did have time, under the current circumstances, could he even get his diploma?

You might not believe it, but Pei Dayu had already prepared: “Flexible arrangement—Comrade Li Xuewu can study at home when convenient, or at the office; as long as his grades meet standards, the school supports his graduation.”

Li Xuewu was stunned—he’d only been helping the Iron Institute connect with the rolling mill!

The only real help he could offer was lending a hand in managing the project and providing convenience for the teachers and students visiting the factory.

Was such a privileged training arrangement really necessary for such a minor thing?

In his understanding, the modern attitude of “I did something huge—can I get recommended for graduate school?”—what exactly did Pei Dayu want him to do?!

This treatment was way more prestigious than being recommended for graduate school!

Department head guiding him, professors coming to his door to teach, vice-president personally mentoring him to graduation!

Fuck!

Li Xuewu looked at Pei Dayu, wondering if he was trying to use him to replace Li Huai de!

Lunch ended under this atmosphere of friendly suspicion.

Today’s meeting and conversation were merely exploratory—both sides needed to hold meetings afterward to deliberate.

At parting, Pei Dayu, representing the Iron Institute, thanked Li Xuewu for donating the books and praised his benevolent act.

Li Xuewu smiled and said, “Teaching and nurturing talent—my contribution is negligible.”

(You better not screw me over!)