Chapter 36: Should we change the name, for example to the Zhenyuan?

Wang Wenwu took a deep drag of his cigar.

Yes, he understands. He understands how to bargain with British merchants, how to exploit German arrogance, how to avoid French suspicion, and how to be wary of Japanese cunning.

But he also understands the risks of this game.

If the British discover they are evading export controls, if the Germans learn they are secretly contacting the French, if the Japanese uncover their details……

"Leopard Room" restricted area, Berth Seven.

The massive hull of the Revival was beginning to take shape. Its 262‑meter‑long steel body lay in the berth like a sleeping beast. The bases of the four twin‑gun turrets had been installed, and the tall bridge structure was being welded.

But at this moment the atmosphere in the berth had frozen.

Chief Engineer Liu Yongfu stood in the turbine room installation area, his face ashen. Before him lay a steam turbine high‑pressure cylinder that had just been hoisted into place—according to design it should mate perfectly with the drive shaft, but now the misalignment exceeded three millimeters.

"What's going on?" Liu Yongfu's voice was low, but each word seemed squeezed out from between his teeth.

Section Chief Lao Zhou, sweating profusely, said: "Chief Engineer, we've checked—it's not an installation problem. The cylinder itself lacks sufficient machining precision; its inner bore ovality is out of tolerance."

"Who machined it?"

"Our own No. 3 Mechanical Workshop." Lao Zhou's voice dwindled: "Old Li did the boring—he's our best borer—but the equipment…… our second‑hand boring mill has been in use for twenty years; its precision was never enough, and with the recent three‑shift rotation……"

"Enough." Liu Yongfu cut him off: "Now is not the time for excuses. How much is the error?"

"At its worst it's 3.2 mm, at its best 1.8 mm."

3.2 mm. It sounds tiny, but for a high‑speed steam turbine it is fatal. Eccentric operation would increase vibration, overheat the bearings, and could even wreck the whole rotor.

"Take it off." Liu Yongfu ordered decisively, "Re‑machine it."

"Chief Engineer!" Lao Zhou exclaimed, "Disassembling and reinstalling takes at least two days, re‑machining three days, heat treatment another day…… that's six days! The schedule is already behind, and the President……"

"The President wants a warship, not a ornament!" Liu Yongfu raised his voice, "If the precision isn't enough and we force‑fit it, it'll blow up during trials—who's responsible? You? Me?"

Lao Zhou lowered his head and said nothing.

Liu Yongfu rubbed his temples, forcing himself to calm: "What options do we have now?"

The nearby technician Xiao Chen opened his notebook: "First, remove it and re‑machine with our existing equipment, grinding slowly, but the precision might still fall short. Second, contact the Germans to see if we can urgently order a new high‑pressure cylinder, though sea transport would take at least two months. Third……" He paused, "Try an on‑site fit‑up, hand‑grinding to the required precision."

"Hand‑grinding?" Liu Yongfu frowned, "A 300‑kg cylinder, hand‑ground to under 0.05 mm error? What level of skill would that require?"

"I can try."

The voice came from behind the crowd. Everyone turned to see a fifty‑something‑year‑old worker in overalls, his hands covered in old calluses, walking over.

"Old Han?" Liu Yongfu recognized him, "Aren't you in the boiler shop?"

"I heard there's a problem here, so I came to have a look." Old Han walked to the cylinder, squatted, ran his hand over the inner wall, then pulled out a micrometer and measured a few points, "Give me a hand‑driven grinder, two of my best apprentices, and seventy‑two hours. I guarantee the error will be under 0.03 mm."

"Old Han, this is no joke," Liu Yongfu said sternly, "A steam turbine high‑pressure cylinder runs at 3,000 rpm and 35 kg pressure. If the precision isn't enough, people will die."

"I know." Old Han rose, his gaze calm, "My father was a veteran worker at the Shanghai Jiangnan Shipyard; I grew up in the yard. Before the Jiawu War, he and his crew repaired the base of the main turret of the Zhenyuan, and the error was greater than this—yet they removed it bit by bit by hand."

He paused: "Afterward the Zhenyuan fought in the Yellow Sea Battle, its turret turned all day with not a hitch. A craftsman's hand can sometimes be truer than a machine."

Liu Yongfu looked at the old worker, then at the cylinder, his mind in fierce turmoil.

The schedule pressure is immense, but quality cannot be compromised.

"What do you need?" he finally asked.

"A clean workshop with temperature control. The best grinding paste and oilstone. Two steady‑handed, careful youngsters to assist. And……" Old Han thought, "You must guarantee eight hours of sleep each day—no rushing. Grinding is fine work; a shaky hand ruins everything."

"All right." Liu Yongfu made up his mind, "Lao Zhou, set up the workshop at once. Xiao Chen, go to the warehouse for the finest grinding supplies. From now on, Old Han has full responsibility for repairing this cylinder; everyone must cooperate with him."

The order was given and the crowd dispersed to prepare.

Liu Yongfu pulled Old Han aside and lowered his voice: "Old Han, tell me straight—what are your chances?"

Old Han held up five fingers, then folded two: "Seventy percent. The remaining thirty percent is up to heaven."

"Up to heaven?"

"It's about luck." The old master smiled, his expression showing the particular confidence and serenity of an artisan, "Those of us in this trade know: machines have their own accuracy, and hands have their own spirit. Sometimes, the feel when your hand touches the work is truer than a micrometer."

Liu Yongfu patted his shoulder: "Then it's up to you. Whether the Revival launches on schedule depends on you."

"Chief Engineer, rest assured." Old Han wiped the smile from his face, "We folks who left our homes to come here—aren't we just trying to build a great ship for our own Chinese people? My greatest wish in life is to see the ship we built sail back to the South Ocean, back to our homeland."

Having said that, he turned and walked toward the already‑erected workshop. His back was slightly bent, but his steps were firm.

Liu Yongfu watched his retreating figure and suddenly recalled a line Chen Feng had said:

"Technology can be bought, equipment can be made, but an artisan's heart and hands cannot be purchased. That is Lanfang's most precious treasure."

At the other end of the berth, the gun‑installation area was also facing a challenge.

Four twin‑mounted 381‑mm main turrets, each weighing eight hundred tonnes. To lift this colossus onto a twenty‑meter‑high turret base requires two 250‑tonne gantry cranes working in sync.

This is the largest lifting operation in Lanfang's history.

"Inspection complete!" Lift commander Lao Zhao shouted into his walkie‑talkie, "Crane No. 1 ready, Crane No. 2 ready. Turret securing confirmed. Wind speed grade three—conditions are met."

On the berth's overhead, the two massive gantry cranes crept into position. Steel cables dangled, and the workers skillfully hooked them up.

"Lift!"

The two cranes strained together, and the 800‑ton steel mass slowly rose from the ground. Everyone held their breath.

One centimeter, ten centimeters, one meter…… the turret rose smoothly.

But when it reached fifteen meters, Crane No. 2 suddenly emitted a piercing screech!

"Stop! Stop!" Lao Zhao bellowed into the radio, "Crane No. 2 is abnormal! Halt the lift!"

The turret hung in mid‑air, swaying slightly.

"What's happening?" Chen Feng asked, hurrying over. He had been in a meeting at the admin building and rushed here at once.

"The winch gearbox of Crane No. 2 is overheating and making odd noises," Lao Zhao said, sweat dripping. "It might be from continuous operation—insufficient lubrication."

"Can we hold out and finish the lift?"

"The risk is too great. If the gearbox seizes, the turret could drop……" Lao Zhao trailed off, but the meaning was clear—that would be catastrophic.

Chen Feng looked up at the turret hanging in mid‑air, then at the two gantry cranes. Every minute of delay is a huge risk.

"Do you have a backup plan?"

"Yes." Lao Zhao said quickly, "We can use four 100-ton hydraulic jacks to set up temporary support underneath, then inspect the crane. But this would take at least eight hours, and keeping the turret suspended that long would subject the structure to stress…"

"Then do it." Chen Feng gave the decisive order, "Safety first. Mobilize all hydraulic jacks, immediately erect the support platform. At the same time, organize the best mechanics to inspect the crane's gearbox."

With the order given, the entire shipyard bustled again.

Hydraulic jacks were transported from the warehouse, and workers quickly erected a steel-frame support platform beneath the turret. Mechanics climbed onto crane No. 2, opened the gearbox cover, and inspected it.

Chen Feng did not leave; he stood at the edge of the shipyard, watching the workers busy. Sweat soaked their work clothes, oil smeared their faces, yet no one complained, no one retreated.

"President, you should go rest; we've got this here." Liu Yongfu walked over and advised.

Chen Feng shook his head: "I'm right here. You're fighting on the front lines; I at least want to stay here with you."

Time passed minute by minute.

Four hours later, the support platform was completed, the four jacks steadily held up the turret's base. The load on crane No. 2 was reduced, and the abnormal noise from the gearbox disappeared.

"Inspection results!" the mechanic came down from the crane, "The gearbox is fine; the lubricating oil was too dirty, with impurities jamming the gears. It's been cleaned and replaced, and we can resume work."

"Confirm safety?" Chen Feng asked.

"Confirmed. We tested it under no load, and everything is normal."

"All right." Chen Feng looked at Lao Zhao, "Continue the lift. But this time, go slower, more steadily."

"Yes!"