The tarpaulin was lifted, and dust fell down, revealing the fuselage covered with dark red rust and solidified sludge.

The nameplate was long since blurred, and the transmission gears were exposed, gleaming with a dull brass color.

The pile of scrap next to it was even more varied: rusty bearings, broken lead screws, twisted steel plates, and even half a tank track pin.

It emitted a strong, mixed smell of rust and waste.

Zhang Mingyuan was also stunned for a moment. Although he realized what was happening, he looked at Mingzhao with a strange expression: Why do you still like picking up trash!

However, Zhang Mingyuan thought Mingzhao's habit was quite good. They didn't have many materials to begin with, and they were all very limited. They should save where they could and use what they could.

We can't be like some people who have just returned from abroad and want everything new without considering our current situation.

However, seeing that others also had a patriotic heart and had abandoned the generous treatment in the United States to return, Zhang Mingyuan still respected them very much.

Wang Tiezhu watched as Mingzhao walked towards the pile of junk, and was first stunned, then his face burst with undisguised sarcasm and a sense of absurdity.

"Ha! Comrade! What? You expect this pile of scrap metal to conjure up a golden phoenix for you? You expect this old relic to mill out your 0.0001 millimeter scribbles?!"

He pointed at the pile of scrap aluminum blocks and said in a sharp voice, "With that effort, it would be more practical to pray to gods and Buddhas!"

Master Chen and the other workers looked at each other, their eyes filled with incomprehension and a numb despair.

If even the best new equipment can't do it, how can this outdated stuff possibly work? Isn't this ridiculous?

Mingzhao ignored Wang Tiezhu's taunts.

She crouched down, her slender fingers casually brushing across the cold rust and grime, as if caressing a rare treasure.

Her sharp gaze swept over every part of the machine tool: the bulky spindle box, the rudimentary cross slide, the contouring contact relying on mechanical linkages for transmission... finally settling on the pile of rusty, old parts.

Her gaze was no longer a cold scrutiny, but rather like the most sophisticated scanner analyzing available resources, her brain modeling, calculating, and optimizing combinations at an alarming speed.

A few seconds later, she moved.

Without hesitation or a word, she precisely picked out several parts from the pile of scrap: a large ball bearing with a worn inner ring but a still-intact outer ring; several scrapped high-strength alloy lead screws of varying lengths, still relatively straight; a thick piece of armor steel scrap with edges melted by oxygen cutting; and several scrap gears of different sizes.

She dragged these "junk" items to the old copy milling machine.

Then, she went to the tool wall in the workshop and took down the largest adjustable wrench, a heavy octagonal hammer, several crowbars of different sizes, and a large box of bolts and nuts of various sizes.

"You! And you too!"

Mingzhao's cool voice rang out as she pointed to two young apprentices who were closest to her and seemed fairly clever, "Come here."

The two apprentices were stunned for a moment, and under Wang Tiezhu's sneer that seemed to say, "Let's see what tricks she can pull," they hesitantly walked over.

"Bearings, clean, install the spindle end."

Mingzhao pointed to the large bearing and the tail of the spindle.

"Cut this section of the lead screw and grind both ends."

She picked up a scrapped lead screw and drew a precise line down the middle with chalk.

"Steel plate, lift it onto the slide, here, drill a hole."

She pointed to the end of the cross slide and the thick steel plate, and then quickly drew several drilling positions and angles on the steel plate with chalk.

"The gear, put it here, and secure it with bolts, but don't tighten them completely."

She picked up a gear and pressed it directly onto a pre-installed mounting bracket on the side of the milling machine.

The instructions are concise, precise, and leave no room for doubt.

Although the two apprentices were full of doubts, they subconsciously began to carry out the orders under Mingzhao's calm yet imposing gaze.

They brought kerosene to clean the bearings, cut and ground the lead screw with a hacksaw and grinding wheel, lifted the heavy steel plate, swung a sledgehammer to hammer in the locating pin, and then picked up a heavy radial drill and began to laboriously drill a hole at the position marked by Mingzhao in chalk.

Mingzhao herself was also busy.

She picked up the huge adjustable wrench and began to remove the protective cover on the side of the old profile milling machine, revealing the simple gearbox and transmission rod inside.

Oil and rust covered her cuffs and fingers, but she didn't care.

In the workshop, only the clanging of metal, the hissing of hacksaws, the whistling of drill bits, and the dull thud of an octagonal hammer striking a locating pin remained.

This rough and primitive construction scene stands in stark contrast to the scene next door where the precision machining group carefully operates the precision machine tools.

Wang Tiezhu stood by with his arms crossed, watching coldly, his sneer never fading.

"What a waste of time! Just wait and see, or you'll completely break this old relic apart!"

Master Chen looked worriedly at the dismantled old machine tool, then at the mountain of scrap aluminum blocks, and sighed heavily.

Time passed amidst the rough hammering and drilling sounds.

The two apprentices were exhausted, their brows drenched in sweat and their arms ached, but Mingzhao's demands were extremely strict.

Even the slightest deviation in the concentricity of the bearing installation, the flatness of the lead screw cross-section, or the angle and position of the holes drilled in the steel plate would be met with her cold gaze, forcing the work to be redone.

Her hands were covered in shiny black grease, but her movements remained steady and precise.

Finally, all the broken parts were forcibly grafted onto the old copy milling machine according to her wishes.

The broken and polished lead screw was cleverly fixed at one end to the end of the main bearing, while the other end was connected to an extremely crude indexing head temporarily pieced together from scrap gears and bolts.

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