The wrench was still hanging in Chen Hao's right hand, swaying gently with his steps, tapping against his trouser leg. The warehouse door creaked dryly as it was pushed open, like the only thing in the place that complained.
He kicked the door all the way down, revealing an old, dusty motor in the corner, its casing rusted like a piece of dried beef jerky.
“It’s you.” He reached out and patted the fuselage, raising a small cloud of dust. “Don’t blame me for being ruthless; it’s your fault for lying here for so many years without generating any electricity.”
Nana stood at the doorway, the terminal already displaying the materials list. A screen floated in front of her, scrolling down a string of data. "The spindle diameter meets the requirements, but the integrity of the internal structure needs to be confirmed."
"Got it. We can't just look at faces; we also need to check medical reports." He squatted down, unscrewed the outer casing, and with two clicks, the cover came loose. A musty smell of stale grease wafted out, and he pinched his nose: "This smell is even stronger than the one I smelled in my pile of socks last month."
Nana didn't reply, but simply raised her hand, and a scanning beam shot out from her fingertip, passing through the disassembled motor housing and scanning back and forth on the spindle surface several times.
A few seconds later, a red warning box popped up on the terminal.
“The tensile strength is insufficient,” she said. “The current value is 320 MPa, while the design threshold is 510.”
"What do you mean?"
"This means that it cannot withstand the load of six spindles operating simultaneously, and it will most likely break down on the third day."
Chen Hao stared at the shaft that had just been dug out, his expression complex. "Are you telling me it won't survive the premiere?"
"To be precise, it couldn't even pass the rehearsal."
He sighed, picked up the axle and weighed it in his hand. "Good heavens, all that work for nothing?"
“It can be processed.” She tapped her finger, and the database interface jumped to a list of industrial terms scrolling rapidly: “Alternating stress heat treatment combined with surface carburizing can improve lattice density and restore some mechanical properties.”
"Wait a minute." He held up one hand. "I understand every single word you say, but when you put them together, I'm completely confused. Can't we speak like normal people?"
“Give the iron a SpA treatment to make it hard again.”
Chen Hao paused for two seconds, then suddenly burst out laughing: "You've learned to make sarcastic remarks?"
"I simply optimized the efficiency of information transmission."
"Alright, SpA it is." He put the axis back on the control panel. "So, shall we go take a bath now?"
"The heating equipment needs to be started and a controllable magnetic field generator needs to be configured."
"Oh right, our base also has an electromagnetic cabin." He scratched his head. "Last time it was used to demagnetize the fan motor, it almost sucked my key away."
"The parameters are more precise this time."
“I hope so.” He stood up and walked to the dusty control box in the corner of the workshop, which had a faded label on it: **High-Frequency Induction Furnace - Short-Term Operation Only**.
He pulled open the cover, revealing a dense network of wires inside, with several wire ends still exposed. "This thing is more fragile than my hairline," he muttered, poking at it with a screwdriver. "I last used it three months ago; I don't even know if it'll still light up."
Nana walked over and scanned the circuit. "The main relay has slight oxidation; I suggest cleaning the contacts first."
"Again, you want to use your hands?" He rolled his eyes. "I thought today would be mostly about talking."
"Talking won't solve the problem of excessive resistance."
"That sounds sarcastic."
"I'm just stating the facts."
Chen Hao snorted, pulled out his small toolbox, and began disassembling the relay. In less than ten minutes, his hands were covered in black ash, and there was an oil stain on his forehead. "I'm not doing scientific research, I'm repairing home appliances."
"Your labor is worth the same as that of an equipment maintenance engineer."
"Don't flatter me, I'm most afraid of hats crushing my nose."
After reinstalling the relay, he pressed the test button. The furnace vibrated slightly with a hum, and the indicator light changed from red to yellow.
"It's working!" he clapped his hands. "Looks like our junkyard isn't completely beyond repair yet."
"Initial power supply is normal." Nana simultaneously turned on the terminal monitoring. "The temperature control range is set to 850 to 920 degrees Celsius for a duration of three hours. During this period, an alternating magnetic field with a frequency of 50 Hz needs to be applied."
"I've got it. 850 to 920, three hours, plus an electromagnetic massage." He picked up a pen and wrote the parameters crookedly on the whiteboard next to the control panel. "I'll write it again, just in case I get confused later."
"It is recommended to set up an automatic alarm."
"That's right. What if I fall asleep and the iron isn't hard enough? I'll cook myself first."
Nana glanced at him. "Your sleep cycle is not directly related to the progress of the mission."
“You don’t understand. When people are tired, they can dream even while standing.” He stretched, and his bones cracked twice. “In my dream, I became the manager of a textile factory with three hundred employees, all of whom were robots, and you were the only female worker.”
"I will not be involved in production line management."
“You’re in charge of quality inspection, wearing a white coat every day and taking notes everywhere.” He mimicked her tone, “'Spindle No. 07’s rotational speed deviation is 0.3… Tsk, so serious it’s laughable.”
"A rigorous production environment is required."
"But I don't think you'll short-circuit if you smile."
She didn't respond, but instead projected the process flow diagram above the operating area, with blue light outlining the simulated process of metal recombining at high temperatures.
Chen Hao leaned over and took a look. "This thing really works? It looks like a sci-fi movie special effect."
"Based on 3,726 historical industrial cases, the success rate was 78.4%."
"So there's still a 20% chance of a car crashing?"
"The risks are manageable."
"Couldn't you just say 'There's definitely no problem'?"
"I do not make false promises."
“Sigh.” He shook his head. “No wonder no one wants to bet with you.”
He turned and rummaged through the materials cabinet, placing the bracket parts he had previously disassembled onto the workbench one by one. Each piece bore the marks of time, some even with slightly curled edges.
Nana scanned each item one by one, and the terminal continuously displayed the test results.
"The yield strength of the second stent is 37% lower than the standard."
"The third connecting piece has uneven crystal phase distribution and a tendency for microcracks."
"The fourth base angle iron has a corrosion depth of 1.2 mm. It is recommended to replace or strengthen it."
Chen Hao's brows furrowed deeper as he listened. "So, according to you, not a single piece of iron in our hands is healthy?"
"Prolonged exposure to a humid environment inevitably leads to metal fatigue."
"So we're not building spinning wheels, we're giving scrap metal a last-ditch effort?"
"More accurately, it's about making them capable of serving again."
“That sounds very respectable.” He picked up a piece of the support frame and examined it for a long time. “So all these guys have to go inside the furnace?”
“The main load-bearing components must be addressed.”
"Okay." He took a deep breath. "Then let's stop talking and get to work."
He placed the first spindle into the furnace cavity, closed the insulation door, and hovered his finger over the start button.
"Wait a minute," Nana suddenly said.
He withdrew his hand. "What's wrong?"
"The output port model of the magnetic field generator is incompatible, and the existing cable cannot be connected."
Chen Hao froze, then slowly turned to look at her: "What did you say?"
"The interface specification is M-type six-pin, while the stock cable is T-type four-core, which are physically incompatible."
He glanced down at the socket on the back of the control box, then at the wire in his hand. "So... we have the medicine, but no syringes?"
"The analogy is appropriate."
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