She tilted her head slightly, looking at Zhang Mingyuan: "Insufficient craftsmanship?"
Mingzhao repeated the words, his tone showing no surprise whatsoever, as if it were just an expected deviation in technical parameters.
"Okay, I understand. It seems this is the bottleneck at the most basic manufacturing technology level. Good."
The word "good" made Zhang Mingyuan's heart skip a beat, and an ominous premonition arose within him.
As expected, Mingzhao calmly announced her decision without any beating around the bush: "Then, I will apply to personally go to the machine factory to oversee the manufacturing process. I will optimize the process on-site to ensure that the design requirements are met."
"What?!"
Zhang Mingyuan almost jumped up: "You're going to the machine factory? To optimize the process on-site?"
He could hardly believe his ears.
What kind of place is a machine factory? It's full of oil stains, noise, and flying iron filings!
She's a delicate-looking girl who doesn't talk much, and she went to a machine factory? And she's supposed to be instructing on the processes? Will the experienced workers there listen to her?
Zhang Mingyuan didn't want to question Mingzhao. If Mingzhao was talented in mathematics or drafting, that would be fine.
But even if she is autistic, how could she possibly compare to those master craftsmen who have worked their whole lives and whose hands are covered in calluses in mechanical manufacturing?
He didn't even need to think to know that Mingzhao couldn't win over the people!
These technical problems can only be solved by experienced workers figuring them out and making progress.
He originally just wanted Mingzhao to optimize the algorithm again to see if there was a simpler way to reduce the manufacturing pressure.
Unexpectedly, Mingzhao immediately said that he wanted to go to the machinery factory.
“Yes.” Mingzhao nodded, his tone resolute, leaving no room for discussion.
“Since the problem lies in the processing stage, solving it on-site is the most efficient approach. The drawing requires a precision of 0.1 micrometers, but I've checked the data for the existing lathe, and it's 10 micrometers, which is too large an error. We need to adjust the cutting parameters, the tool angle, and intervene in the material heat treatment process to ensure precision.”
“I already have the theoretical model, but now I need to verify and revise it in the field.”
Her words were like cold, mechanical commands, each one striking Zhang Mingyuan's taut nerves like a hammer blow.
0.1 micrometers? That's one-thousandth the thickness of a human hair! Existing precision lathes that can consistently operate at 0.01 millimeters (10 micrometers) are already considered top-tier!
This girl casually said something that could increase the precision a hundredfold!
This isn't just pushing the limits; it's overturning the existing industrial system!
"What theory? You've been messed with! Your data..."
Before Zhang Mingyuan could say anything more, he saw Mingzhao pat the tool bag, from which came a clattering sound.
"The contract! My ideas and theoretical calculations cannot be questioned."
Zhang Mingyuan felt dizzy and his blood pressure spike.
Alright, no questioning allowed. He thought of the Night Owl and the Dongfeng-7; if Mingzhao could really do it, he could almost foresee the storm that was about to break out at the machinery factory.
Mingzhao got what he wanted.
Two hours later, the car carrying Mingzhao and a serious-looking Zhang Mingyuan drove over the bumpy factory roads and stopped at the entrance of Hongxing Machinery Factory.
After Zhang Mingyuan showed his credentials, the guard at the gate immediately went to fetch the factory manager.
Zhang Mingyuan refused, saying they needed to go to the workshop to check on the situation. The guard arranged for another person to call the factory manager, while he led the two men inside.
Inside the enormous factory, the deafening roar of machines filled the air, and the overhead cranes cast heavy shadows as they moved slowly overhead.
Fine metallic dust floated in the air.
Several experienced workers, dressed in dark blue overalls with oil stains on their cuffs and chests, were arguing heatedly around a large and complex gantry milling machine.
The leader was a burly, square-faced master craftsman with thick, black eyebrows. His surname was Wang, and he was known as "Wang the Hammer." He was a master of precision machining in the factory and also famously stubborn.
Zhang Mingyuan stepped forward and explained his purpose, introducing Mingzhao's identity and intentions.
Upon learning that the person had come to provide on-site guidance to improve the process and overcome the manufacturing difficulties of engine turbine blades, Wang Dachui expressed his doubts.
"Guidance? This little girl?" Wang Dachui put his greasy hands on his hips, raised his thick black eyebrows, and looked Mingzhao up and down without any attempt to hide it.
All I noticed was that Mingzhao was slender, wearing gray overalls, and had a blank expression.
Wang Dachui's eyes were filled with suspicion and a kind of anger at being offended and having his abilities questioned.
His apprentices behind him began to whisper among themselves, their eyes scanning back and forth between the blueprints that Ming Zhao had given them earlier.
Their faces were filled with distrust. To let some young, inexperienced girl instruct them, workers who'd spent half their lives in the industry—what a joke!
Mingzhao ignored their reactions.
Her gaze swept past Wang Dachui and the others, precisely landing on the gantry milling machine that was being debugged, and on the workbench next to it, several alloy steel blanks that had been attempted to be processed according to the drawings but were obviously scrapped due to insufficient precision.
She walked straight over, picked up one of the scrap pieces of blank, and carefully rubbed her fingers on the rough surface to feel the microscopic texture. She then closely observed the wear of the milling machine tool and the angle of the newly replaced cutter head.
Wang Dachui was thoroughly enraged by her disregard. His dark face flushed red, and he roared in a hoarse voice, "Hey! Did you draw those blueprints? That 0.1-micron precision requirement, and that ridiculous material hardness specification—are you deliberately trying to mess with us workers? Even a god couldn't make it with those machine tools and alloys!"
My dear reader, there's more to this chapter! Please click the next page to continue reading—even more exciting content awaits!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
