At 5:30 a.m., before the factory's public address system broadcast "The East Is Red," the communal washroom on the third floor of the women's dormitory was already packed with people. When Liu Li squeezed in with her enamel basin, Zhang Shulan was braiding her hair in front of a cracked mirror. The rough cloth towel in the basin was pilling at the edges and still smelled of soap that hadn't been rinsed off the night before, mixed with the distinctive rusty smell of the washroom.

"Lily, why are you up so early?" Zhang Shulan asked, her words muffled as she chewed on half a red rubber band. "You worked so late yesterday, why didn't you get some more sleep?" As she finished braiding the last piece, her hand slipped, and the rubber band snapped on the ground. As she bent down to pick it up, she muttered to herself, "My mom said this rubber band was bought with coupons last year, and she can't bear to throw it away even though it's broken."

Liu Li turned on the tap, and the icy water splashed on her face, making her shiver instantly. "The instructor said that today we'll be teaching how to operate the lathe, so I need to go and clean the work area beforehand."

She suddenly leaned closer, her voice extremely low, and gestured with her chin toward the workshop, "Yesterday, Sun Peng looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive. Be careful when you're working; he's the kind of person who loves to trip you up."

Liu Li nodded, tucked her tool bag into her pocket, and headed towards the workshop. The morning mist felt cool on her face, carrying the distinctive smell of machine oil from the factory and the coal smoke drifting from the boiler room in the distance. The road was full of workers in blue overalls, their bicycles jingling past them. Some had lunch boxes strapped to the back of their bikes, others carried tool bags, their voices tinged with the local accent: "Hey, the lathe group has to rush to finish today," "Yeah, the assembly workshop is waiting for us," a noisy commotion, yet all exuding a sense of earnestness.

Upon arriving at the machining workshop, Wang Jianguo was already standing beside the lathe. The C6140 lathe looked quite old, its bed gleaming with the cold light of worn metal. The spindle chuck resembled a large, polished gear, and three cutting tools were stacked on the tool post beside it, their tips hardened and gleaming with a bluish-green light. Master Wang was wiping iron filings off the chuck with a cotton cloth. Seeing Liu Li arrive, he raised his chin and said, "Don't touch the machine yet. Let's familiarize ourselves with the parts today."

He pulled out a "Lathe Operation Manual" from the bottom shelf of the tool cabinet. The cover was badly curled at the edges, and inside was half an old grain coupon, left by previous users. "First, memorize the spindle tachometer," Master Wang said, pointing to the tables in the manual, the blue pen ink smudged. "For example, when machining 45# steel, the speed needs to be set to 600 rpm, and the handle needs to be in the third position. If you remember it wrong, the tool will break, and the workpiece will be ruined."

Liu Li took the manual, her fingertips brushing against the rough edges of the paper. She pulled a broken pencil from her pocket—one that her younger brother, Liu Xiaofeng, had used; the shaft was pitted and worn from being chewed by his teeth. She squatted beside the lathe, examining the machine while sketching on the rough paper. The positions of the "spindle box" and "feed box" were marked crookedly, and she added small notes next to them: "The left handle controls the rotation speed, the right handle controls the feed," afraid she might get them mixed up.

"Liu Li, lend me an 18-gauge wrench!" Sun Peng's voice suddenly came from not far away. He was holding a shaft-like part, a fake smile on his lips, but his eyes were glancing at Liu Li's tool bag. Liu Li remembered that she had specifically put the wrench on the top shelf of her tool bag that morning, but when she turned around to get it, it was empty—she turned the tool bag upside down, and the pliers and screwdrivers clattered to the ground. She squatted down and rummaged around for a long time, even looking under the machine tool, but still couldn't find it.

"What are you looking for? Your face is all red with anxiety." Master Li from the grinding machine group passed by, an old tool bag hanging from his waist, polished to a shine. Liu Li looked up, about to speak, when Master Li glanced at Sun Peng, frowned slightly, and without asking any questions, took a wrench from his tool bag and handed it to her: "Use mine first, I have another one here." The wrench was still warm from his hands when he handed it over, with a patina from years of use, even the edges were rounded.

Just as Liu Li took it, she saw Sun Peng hook his foot under the machine tool, quickly stuff something underneath, and pretend to kick the ground while humming an off-key tune, his eyes drifting over. Wang Jianguo had walked over at some point, still holding the cotton cloth, wiping the chuck without saying a word. After a while, he finally spoke: "Tools are your livelihood. You have to keep your own things in order, and don't touch other people's things—you can't hide them if you do."

Sun Peng's shoulders visibly stiffened. He scratched his head and said awkwardly, "Master Wang is right. I'll tidy up my tools right away." As he spoke, he moved towards his workstation, his steps quickening.

For the rest of the morning, Liu Li followed Master Wang to learn how to load and unload chucks. The chucks were very heavy. She gripped the wrench with both hands and tightened the screws according to the "diagonal tightening" rule. After only a few turns, her wrists began to tremble, and her palms became red and burning. Master Wang glanced at her, said nothing, and turned to rummage through his toolbox, pulling out a piece of canvas—made from discarded work clothes from the factory, with the white letters "Red Star Machinery Factory" still on it. It was faded from washing, and the edges were stitched with a few stitches, which Master Wang had sewn himself. "Use this as padding, so your hands don't get chafed," he said, handing it to her. The canvas still smelled of machine oil from the toolbox.

At lunchtime, Liu Li sat on the steps by the workshop entrance, taking a bite of a cornbread that was so dry it made her choke. Just as she was about to swallow, she saw Wang Jianguo come over with a lunchbox and give her half of the stir-fried cabbage inside—a few pieces of fatty meat were still floating in the cabbage, which his wife had specially left for her, with oil droplets floating on top. "Your wife cooked this last night, eat more, it'll be hard to prepare the knife this afternoon."

Liu Li's nose tingled, and she quickly pushed her remaining half of pickled vegetables over: "Master, you eat this, this is enough for me." Wang Jianguo waved his hand, finished his rice in a few bites, and hung the lunchbox on his waist: "I'm going to the workshop to take another look. There are fewer people at noon, so I can think about the processing technology." As he spoke, he walked towards the workshop, his back looking particularly solid in the midday sun.

In the afternoon, during the tool-setting instruction, Master Wang clamped the external turning tool onto the tool holder, holding a dial indicator in his hand: "The tool tip must be aligned with the center of the spindle; even a slight deviation above or below is unacceptable. Look at this pointer." The tungsten filament lights in the workshop flickered, causing the silver pointer of the dial indicator to tremble, its reflection illuminating Liu Li's face. She leaned closer to look, her hair hanging down. Master Wang reminded her, "Don't let your hair touch the workpiece; it'll get dirty." She quickly tucked her hair behind her ear, her fingers pinching the tool holder screw, adjusting it little by little until the pointer stabilized at zero, her palms sweating profusely.

"Not bad," Master Wang nodded, his voice a little softer than usual, "You're not stupid, and your hands are steady." Liu Li felt a warm glow in her heart, and the corners of her mouth couldn't help but turn up. She quickly lowered her head and pretended to wipe the workpiece to hide her smile.

As it was nearing the end of her shift, Liu Li was tidying up her tools when she touched the chuck and felt it was a little loose—she'd noticed something was off when Master Wang cleaned it that morning, but hadn't dared to say anything. After hesitating for a moment, she went over to Master Wang and said, "Master, this screw on the chuck seems a little loose." Master Wang went over and tightened it with a wrench; sure enough, it was half a turn loose. After tightening it, he glanced back at Liu Li and said, "Working isn't just about using your hands; you also need to use your eyes—being able to spot problems is more important than just being able to do the work."

The evening glow streamed through the workshop's sunroof, casting long shadows on the car windows. Liu Li packed up her tool bag, said goodbye to Master Wang, and headed out. As she passed Sun Peng's workstation, she overheard him whispering to Xiao Zhou, "So what if she can assemble a knife? What's so great about that... Next time, let her experience the taste of a broken knife, see if she'll still be so cocky." Xiao Zhou advised, "Forget it, Master Wang is protecting her." Sun Peng glared at him, "What do you know!"

Liu Li paused, but didn't turn around. She touched the canvas pad in her pocket; it still smelled a bit of machine oil. Remembering the wrench Master Li had handed her, she felt reassured. Her lathe skills were still in their early stages; Sun Peng's little obstacle was nothing—as long as she studied hard and worked diligently, she could overcome even the most difficult obstacles.