The transfer order stated a three-day handover period, and in the blink of an eye, it was already the last day.
That afternoon, Liu Li finished up the remaining work and squatted down in front of her toolbox to tidy it up. She polished each wrench and caliper until they gleamed, and even wrapped the blade of her daily 90-degree lathe tool with oilcloth to prevent damage. She pulled out the cube from the drawer—the piece Master Wang had given her to practice on. Its edges were filed straight, its chamfers smoothed, and it was wrapped in two layers of cotton yarn before being tucked into the bottom of her canvas tool bag. She thought to herself: when she gets to the technical department, she'll put it on her desk. Seeing it will remind her of the days when she first learned to be a lathe operator, her hands trembling as she gripped the crank handle.
The machines in the workshop were still humming, but Liu Li felt they were heavier than usual. She ran her hand along the guide rails of the C616 lathe; the oil stains from yesterday's cleaning still clung to her palm, cool and smooth. A sudden emptiness washed over her. This machine had been with her for almost a year. From the first time she dared not exert force when gripping the crank handle, to later being able to machine to a tolerance of 0.01 millimeters, every speck of metal shaving and every drop of sweat she shed was etched into the guide rails of this machine.
As it was almost time to leave work, Zhang Shulan, her eyes red, came over and grabbed her arm, refusing to let go: "Xiao Li, you're not coming tomorrow... From now on, if I want to complain about the cafeteria food being too salty, there'll be no one to talk to."
Liu Li laughed and patted her hand: "Silly girl, I didn't leave. The technical department is on the third floor. We can sit together and chat at lunchtime."
"How can that be the same!" Zhang Shulan pouted. "Before, you were right across from me at the lathe, and I could see you as soon as I looked up; now that you're drawing upstairs, I'll have to climb the stairs to find you, which is so troublesome."
Several female workers gathered around, chattering: "Come back to the workshop often, don't forget about us now that you're a technician." "If anyone in the technical department gives you a hard time, just tell us, there are plenty of people in our workshop." Even Lao Li, the usually quiet milling machine operator, chimed in: "Don't panic when you get to the department, you have the foundation from the workshop, which is better than those who can only draw but have never touched a machine tool."
Director Zhao accompanied the chief engineer on a brief tour, offering some perfunctory words of encouragement to "work hard and bring honor to the factory," but didn't linger. Once the leader left, the atmosphere in the workshop became even more somber—the real farewell was to these fellow workers and colleagues with whom he had toiled day and night.
The work bell rang, but no one rushed to pack up and leave; everyone gathered around Liu Li's workstation. Just as Liu Li was about to say something, she saw Master Wang walking over from the corner of the workshop. He was still wearing that greasy blue overalls, his hands behind his back, and his steps were slow, but everyone around him automatically made way for him.
Liu Li quickly stood up straight, and just like when she first became an apprentice, she respectfully called out, "Master."
Master Wang didn't speak. He first glanced at her neatly packed toolbox, then looked at her, and remained silent for a while before finally asking, "Have you explained everything clearly?"
"Yes, everything has been explained to Xiao Wu who took over. The tool grinding method and depth of cut are all written down on paper."
Master Wang nodded and turned to walk towards his workbench. Everyone was stunned, wondering what he was going to do. They watched as he squatted down in front of his gleaming brass toolbox, opened it with a click—that toolbox was his most prized possession; he wouldn't even touch it, and he'd be wary of anyone even glancing at it. He rummaged through it, took out a canvas bag, walked back to Liu Li, and handed it to her: "Here."
Liu Li took it; it was heavy. Before she could even open it, Old Zhou, who was standing next to her, hissed, "Isn't this Master Wang's set of scraping and grinding tools? I've only ever seen him use it once!"
She quickly opened the canvas bag, inside was a wooden box lined with velvet, containing five or six shovels. The blades gleamed with a faint blue light, polished from old bearing steel, the handles blackened from hand sweat, and you could feel the fine wood grain in your hand. Back when the workshop repaired precision platforms, the foreman used these very shovels to painstakingly scrape out patterns bit by bit; his skill was unmatched in the entire workshop.
"Master, this... is too precious, I can't accept it." Liu Li's hands were trembling, how could she dare to take it? She knew all too well the weight of this set of knives; it was her master's life's work and a cherished memory.
Master Wang waved his hand, his voice still rough, but without its usual seriousness: "Tools are all about finding the right person. My hands tremble when I hold a knife now, they're just sitting there collecting dust. You're meticulous and steady, so if you take it, you'll need it if you ever need to repair a delicate part."
He paused, pointed to the wooden box in Liu Li's hand, and then to the machine tool at his feet: "When you get to the technical department, don't just look at the blueprints and calculate. You have to remember that you came from here—you know that iron filings are hot to the touch, you know that lathe tools need to be sharpened, and you know that if a part is even slightly off, it will be ruined. Without these things, the drawings you produce are just a piece of waste paper."
Liu Li's tears welled up instantly. Clutching the wooden box, her knuckles turned white. She bowed deeply, her voice choked but clear: "Master, I will remember your words for the rest of my life. Thank you."
Master Wang didn't say anything more, just nodded and turned to walk towards the workshop door. The setting sun shone in through the doorway, casting a long shadow of him. His back looked a little hunched, but he still stood very straight.
Liu Li, carrying her toolbox and wooden box, said goodbye to everyone one by one. Old Li patted her on the shoulder and said, "Work hard." Zhang Shulan secretly slipped her a piece of fruit candy and whispered, "May your days be sweet and happy." She didn't dare look back and walked step by step out of the workshop. The sound of the machines behind her gradually faded away, but the wooden box in her hands felt warm, like her master's hand, like the light in the workshop. Carrying these things, she walked with extra stability.
A new path awaits her, but she knows that the shovel set her master gave her during her time in the workshop will always be with her, and she will never forget it.
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