Chapter 51: Counterattacking the Denunciation Letter, Another Achievement in the Oil Shortage

As the door closed, Li Haide abruptly grabbed the letter paper and violently tore it to pieces. Rip—shreds of paper fluttered down like dirty snowflakes into the wastebasket, and only then did he collapse back into his chair, panting heavily.

Three days. Exactly three days of absolute calm.

Su Qing had not come to his office again, there had been no unusual activity from He Yuzhu, and everything in the factory was as usual.

Li Haide’s tense nerves finally relaxed slightly. Perhaps... that girl knew what was good for her and didn't dare speak recklessly?

Just as this thought crossed his mind, a knock sounded on his office door.

"Come in," Li Haide cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady.

The door opened.

Entering were He Yuzhu and a middle-aged man with a solemn expression, dressed in a crisp, dark grey Zhongshan suit. Behind him stood two young cadres with equally cold and rigid expressions.

"Deputy Factory Director Li Haide?" the man in the Zhongshan suit spoke, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

"It's me. And you are?" Li Haide’s heart plummeted, and he forced himself to stand up.

The man did not answer, walking straight up to his desk, his gaze sweeping over several production reports spread out on the surface.

A young cadre stepped forward and gently placed a kraft paper document bag, stamped with the words "Municipal Industrial Commission Supervisory Department," right beside the reports.

"We are the Joint Investigation Team from the Municipal Supervisory Commission and the Ministry of Industry," the middle-aged man finally spoke, shifting his gaze from the document bag to Li Haide’s face. "We have received real-name reports from the masses, reflecting serious problems on your part, such as falsely accusing and framing a technical backbone and disrupting normal production order." His finger tapped lightly against the document bag. "Inside here are the report letter and relevant corroborating materials. Please provide an explanation regarding this matter, right now."

Li Haide’s face turned instantly ashen, his lips trembling as he stared fixedly at the document bag.

Amidst this suffocating standoff, the factory’s loudspeaker suddenly emitted a burst of static crackle, immediately followed by a voice so urgent and distorted it pierced the frozen air:

"Emergency notice! Emergency notice! A sudden failure has caused the No. 3 Workshop lubricating oil production line to shut down! The situation is critical! Requesting Deputy Section Chief He Yuzhu of the Procurement Section! Deputy Section Chief He Yuzhu! Proceed immediately to the No. 3 Workshop to handle the situation! Proceed immediately to the No. 3 Workshop! Repeat..."

The broadcast echoed through the empty factory grounds.

The three members of the investigation team furrowed their brows simultaneously.

He Yuzhu’s originally calm gaze sharpened. He glanced at Li Haide, then said in a deep voice to the leading middle-aged man of the investigation team, "Special Envoy, a production accident cannot be delayed. I must head over immediately."

The middle-aged man swept his gaze over Li Haide’s panic-stricken and wretched appearance, then landed on He Yuzhu’s steady and resolute face. With an almost imperceptible nod, he said, "Deputy Section Chief He, production comes first. Go handle it."

"Understood!" He Yuzhu acknowledged, turned on his heel, and strode out of the office.

The door closed, leaving only the fading echo of the broadcast and Li Haide’s heavy, suppressed breathing inside the office.

The special envoy’s icy gaze returned to Li Haide, waiting for his answer.

***

He Yuzhu sprinted all the way, rushing into the No. 3 Workshop.

In the center of the workshop, the crucial lubricating oil blending production line had already ground to a halt.

Several workers surrounded the massive reaction kettle and gear box, sweating profusely and at their wits' end.

A tall, white-haired elderly foreigner was flying into a rage, swinging his thick arms and roaring in heavily accented Russian at the translator and workshop director beside him: "...Damned it is! Completely stopped! The bearings are seized! The temperature! It must be temperature runaway! Your formula! Inferior formula! It simply cannot withstand the load of continuous production! It's sheer garbage! Garbage!"

He was so furious his face was beet red, and his spittle was practically spraying onto the translator's face. This was Ivanov, the Soviet expert sent by the ministry to guide production.

The workshop director was wringing his hands anxiously, wanting to defend himself but not daring to, his face flushed red.

He Yuzhu pushed his way through the crowd and walked straight up to the huge gearbox, which was still radiating residual heat.

Ignoring the enraged Ivanov, he squatted down and pressed his right hand forward, the pad of his index finger precisely contacting the gearbox casing near the main bearing.

[Ding! Triggered Sign-in: No. 3 Workshop Lubricating Oil Production Line. Obtained: Primary Material Thermal Damage Perception (Time-limited).]

It came just in time.

"Sign in."

A subtle yet distinct perception instantly traveled up along the nerves of his fingertips.

Through this perception, the lubricating oil film layer had already lost its lubricity under the abnormal high temperature; part of the oil molecular structure had fractured and carbonized, clogging the oil lines and ultimately leading to the catastrophic seizure.

"It's not an equipment issue." He Yuzhu stood up, his gaze sweeping over the anxious workshop director and the enraged expert. "It's the lubricating oil itself. Under high-temperature operating conditions, the thermal-oxidative stability of the original formula oil was insufficient. Localized high temperatures caused the oil to carbonize and coke, clogging the oil lines and causing the bearings to seize."

Ivanov abruptly stopped his roaring, his blue-gray eyes wide with disbelief as he stared fixedly at He Yuzhu.

His outburst just now was based precisely on this preliminary judgment, but it required disassembly to verify!

Yet this young man, merely by touching the scorching casing with his hand, could so assertively state the internal failure mechanism? How could this be possible?!

"What did you say?!" Ivanov roared in awkward Chinese, "You just touch it once and you know? What gives you the..."

He Yuzhu ignored him, pulling a neatly folded sheet of letter paper straight out of his work uniform pocket.

The edges of the paper were worn, clearly having been carried on his person for a long time. With a swift motion, he unfolded it and handed it to the workshop director.

"Use this formula," He Yuzhu said, his tone resolute and unquestionable. "Replace the base oil immediately, and add my modified compound antioxidant and high-temperature detergent-dispersant in the prescribed proportions."

"Once the equipment cools down to a safe temperature, thoroughly clean the oil lines and bearings, refill with fresh oil, and execute immediately!"

The workshop director looked at the densely written yet neat and forceful formula sheet, then looked into He Yuzhu’s calm eyes. Gritting his teeth, he declared, "Alright! Deputy Section Chief He, I'll listen to you!" He spun around abruptly, roaring at several foremen, "Did you all hear that?! Do as Deputy Section Chief He says! Cleaning crew, prepare your tools! Blending crew, go to the warehouse immediately to draw raw materials! Mix according to Deputy Section Chief He's sheet! Fast! Move!"

The entire workshop instantly sprang into action like a wound-up clock, the workers scattering to their respective posts.

Ivanov was left standing in place, the anger on his face transforming into astonishment and deep confusion.

He snatched the carbon copy of the formula sheet from the translator's hand, narrowed his eyes, and brought it close to the light to examine it carefully, muttering those tongue-twisting chemical additive names under his breath.

He Yuzhu said nothing more, walking up to the massive reaction kettle control console to check the instrument parameters himself.

Ivanov finally raised his head, looking with complex emotions at the young back operating steadily in front of the control console. He opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, silently folding up the carbon-copy formula and slipping it into his pocket.

***

As Yan Fugui got off work as usual, he walked with his hands behind his back, leisurely strolling into the gates of the rolling mill. Habitually, he glanced at the bulletin board in front of the factory administration building—his usual window for gauging the factory's "winds of change."

With that single glance, his footsteps halted.

In the most prominent spot on the bulletin board, two brand-new notices were pasted.

The one on the left was a red-headed document with a striking title: 《Notice Regarding the Promotion of Comrade He Yuzhu to Deputy Section Chief of the Procurement Section》, bearing the bright red official seal of the factory's party committee.

The one on the right, in stark black and white, used icy phrasing: 《Decision to Issue Comrade Li Haide a Serious Warning Disciplinary Penalty》.

The notice did not mention the specific reasons, vaguely stating only "violation of organizational principles, causing adverse effects," but the subsequent sentence—"Transferred away from his original post, responsible for the organization of trade union worker cultural and sports activities"—sank deeply into Yan Fugui's mind.

"Trade union... cultural and sports activities?" Yan Fugui adjusted his glasses frames, his small eyes flashing brightly as his mind rapidly clicked the beads of an imaginary abacus. "Li Haide... he's taken a massive tumble! And He Yuzhu... Deputy Section Chief?"

He suddenly recalled the gold bars dug up in the backyard rainstorm, and the miserable sight of Yi Zhonghai collapsing in the muddy water vomiting blood. A chill crept up his spine.

Subconsciously, Yan Fugui turned his head to look in the direction of the procurement section, then shrank his neck, muttering silently to himself. Losing all interest in reading any further notices, he quickened his pace, lowered his head, and hurried out of the factory.