"And you too!" Liu Zhenshan looked at the workers standing in the workshop, his voice hoarse but undeniable.

"Don't just stand there! Get back to what you were doing! The production tasks at hand can't stop! These old buddy's parts..."

He pointed to the scattered remains of the gantry milling machine on the ground, "...As Comrade Mingzhao just requested, sort them out! Clean them up! Wait for the surveying! Hurry! Get moving!"

The workers, as if waking from a dream, dispersed silently with mixed emotions and began to clean up the mess.

The excitement of dismantling and the fervor of building new machines were doused with the cold water of reality, leaving only a heavy sense of responsibility and a faint hope weighing on their shoulders.

Soon, Old Ma came running back, panting: "Factory Manager! The office... the office is all set up!"

Liu Zhenshan personally led Mingzhao out of the noisy, oil-stained workshop and through the empty factory area.

The archive room next to the technical department, which used to be filled with old blueprints and miscellaneous items, has been completely renovated.

The windows were sparkling clean, and a large, slightly worn but spotless drawing board stood in the center, next to a sturdy wooden chair.

Brand new blueprints, drawing tools, a bright desk lamp, and even a brand new thermos bottle with the Double Happiness logo were all neatly arranged.

Although still simple, it was the greatest sincerity and quiet space that could be provided in these difficult times.

"Comrade Mingzhao, is there anything else you need? Just tell me!"

Liu Zhenshan rubbed his hands together, his eyes filled with eagerness and barely concealed anxiety.

Mingzhao looked around, his gaze lingering briefly on the drawing board and tools.

"Basic requirements are met. Drawing environment parameters are acceptable."

She walked to the drawing board, spread out the drawings she had brought, picked up a pencil, and without the slightest politeness or hesitation, immediately began to work.

"Um... Comrade Mingzhao!"

Seeing that she was about to begin, Liu Zhenshan quickly spoke up, his tone cautious and sincere.

"Don't worry about Alloy No. 7! I, Liu Zhenshan, will do everything I can to get it for you, even if it means losing face and running myself ragged! I'll go make some calls right now! I'll contact other units! I'll contact the ministry! If all else fails..."

He gritted his teeth, "...I'll beg those who have connections! I'll sell everything I own to raise the money for you!"

Mingzhao paused, pencil in her hand, but without turning around, she calmly replied, "Yes. Getting the materials in place is the top priority for project progress. Please expedite it."

Her words were as direct as an order, without the slightest bit of polite thanks or encouragement.

Liu Zhenshan felt a lump in his throat, but also felt an inexplicable sense of urgency.

Liu Zhenshan always respected capable people to the end, and he interpreted Mingzhao's attitude as the arrogance of a talented person!

"Okay! Okay! I'll go right away!"

He dared not disturb them any further, and quietly slipped out, closing the door gently behind him.

Once the door is closed, the hustle and bustle of the outside world is shut out.

Mingzhao immediately got into the zone. The pencil tip landed on the snow-white paper, and the scratching sound rang out again, smooth and steady, as if it had never stopped.

Intricate lines and precise symbols rapidly extend under her pen, constructing mechanical blueprints that transcend time.

Her world at this moment consists only of cold numbers, rigorous structures, and pressing problems that need to be solved.

This time, she's going to build the milling machine model most commonly used in the Interstellar Alliance.

Only this design could support the construction of her starships later on.

Time slipped away silently beneath the tip of the pen. The sky outside the window gradually darkened, and twilight descended.

In the factory director's office next door, Liu Zhenshan almost shouted himself hoarse into talking into the old, black crank telephone.

"Hello?! Old Li? This is Liu Zhenshan from Hongxing Factory!"

Help! Heat-resistant alloy No. 7! Yes! The one used to make precision spindle bases! Do you have any in stock? ...What? Half a ton?!

That's great! ...What?! They want to exchange half of our factory's precision bearing quota for next year?!

Okay! Okay, okay! Half it is! I accept it! ...What? The earliest it can be allocated is the end of next month?!

Old Li! My dear brother! We can't wait any longer! It's a matter of life and death! ...Will you make an exception? ...Okay, okay! I'll think of something else! I'll think of something else!

He slammed the microphone down, veins bulging on his forehead.

She quickly dialed another number, her voice even more hoarse and humble: "Hello? Director Wang! It's me, Xiao Liu! ...Yes, yes! You see, about that batch of unplanned No. 7 alloy quota..."

Our factory has really encountered a huge hurdle!

Yes, yes, yes! I know it's difficult!

What?! We have to exchange our factory's three-year-old stockpile of special lubricating oil for this?!

Okay! Lubricating oil it is!

...Huh? We have to wait for the department's unified coordination meeting next month?

...Director Wang! Director Wang, please listen to me..."

Li Zhenshan wiped the sweat from his forehead and continued dialing the next number from the phone book...

Outside the window, night had completely fallen.

The dim streetlights illuminated the factory area, their light appearing particularly weak in the cold night wind.

Mingzhao remained immersed in the world of blueprints.

The lamplight cast her focused profile onto the glass window. The scratching of a pencil was the only melody in this small space.

After some time, there was a gentle knock on the office door.

Mingzhao didn't even look up: "Go in."

The door opened, and there was Old Ma from the logistics department, followed by two workers who were struggling to carry a simple cot and an old desk.

"Comrade Mingzhao," Old Ma said with a smile, speaking cautiously, "the factory director instructed that, judging from your enthusiasm, you'll probably be working late into the night."

We were worried that it would be too far and tiring for you to come to the family hospital, and that it would waste your precious time.

"Look... this small rest room next door has been prepared for you, the bed and desk are all set up. Why don't you just stay at the factory tonight?"

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