“Come to the fitter workshop and wait for me tomorrow morning.” Old Clark suppressed his excitement, left a message for Henry Grant, then walked away leisurely, pondering how to train the chubby guy, leaving behind a completely baffled Henry Grant, who scratched his head and didn’t recover for quite a while.

Chapter 0006 Competing Not for the Bun, but for Pride (Part 2)

Whatever, anyway, Henry Grant felt he hadn’t done anything wrong. He’d re-scraped the guide rail, giving the old lathe new life—how could that be a mistake?

Better to stick to his own plan: quickly make the prototype, then apply for a patent and write a thesis. At most, in a month, the graduation project would be done. The rest of the time could be spent figuring out ways to make money and searching for titanium powder.

Being interrupted by Old Clark didn’t affect Henry Grant at all. After all, Henry Grant already had a plan. In just half an afternoon, he easily turned out four sets of hydraulic pistons and cylinders.

Of course, this was just rough machining. To really finish them, he’d have to go to the fitter workshop for hand polishing. There was no other way—with this old 1933 Rhein lathe, it simply couldn’t meet Henry Grant’s precision requirements.

Henry Grant himself hadn’t even realized that ever since he gained the ability to machine with 5-micron precision, everything he made for himself had to meet that standard. Ordinary lathe precision just didn’t cut it for Henry Grant anymore.

Old Clark had never introduced himself from the start, and Henry Grant didn’t know who the old man was. Also, it seemed Old Clark had never asked Henry Grant’s name either. The two had talked so much, but strictly speaking, they were still strangers who didn’t know each other’s names.

What was he supposed to do when he met Old Clark tomorrow? Henry Grant had no idea. But since he was going to the fitter workshop anyway to make other parts, he might as well respect his elders and listen.

While Henry Grant was pondering about Old Clark, Old Clark was also pondering about Henry Grant.

What kind of prodigy was this chubby guy? Had he been learning the craft since he was in the womb? How could he have such exquisite skills?

Old Clark had seen plenty of talented people in his life, but it was the first time he’d seen a young fitter master with such a physique.

Guide rails scraped by others always had neat, uniform patterns and looked beautiful, but a master like Old Clark could feel slight unevenness with a touch—after all, it’s impossible to achieve a mirror finish just by scraping.

But the chubby guy’s work was clearly a mirror finish, without any undulations. Even more impressive, he’d used the most worn part of the old guide rail as the reference to rescrape it. In other words, he’d practically scraped off an entire layer from the whole guide rail.

With this technique, not only did he achieve a mirror-flat surface, but he did it so efficiently—it was simply unbelievable. Old Clark himself was a master, but even at his peak, he couldn’t have worked at that speed.

It wasn’t impossible to get a mirror finish, but that would take at least a few months. Besides, the current Old Clark was no longer at his peak—he had the experience, but no longer the same top-notch hands-on ability.

The only regret was not seeing the chubby guy in action. Old Clark had been retired for years, but this was the first time he was truly moved. Such a promising talent—what a waste if he wasn’t properly trained.

Early the next morning, after breakfast, Henry Grant slung his blueprints over his shoulder and strolled over to the school-run factory’s fitter workshop.

In the factory director’s office, four people were talking. On the desk lay a blueprint and two rectangular boxes.

“Director Thompson, please help us out!” A middle-aged man in a suit and tie bowed and handed a Zhonghua cigarette to the middle-aged man across from him, who was dressed in work clothes, pleading as he spoke.

“It’s really not that we don’t want to help, Manager Foster.” Director Thompson took the cigarette, leaned in to light it from the other man’s lighter, exhaled a smoke ring, and then looked up with a wry smile: “We really can’t do this job!”

“Look at this blueprint—the highest required precision is 0.5 silk.” Director Thompson pointed at the two long boxes and said, “You’ve already made the parts to this stage, what’s left is just the fine grinding. We don’t have such precision equipment here! Maybe, Manager Foster, you could try the aerospace industry—they definitely have the capability.”

“It’s because I don’t have those connections!” Manager Foster looked bitter. “There are only two semi-finished pieces in total, and we just need one qualified product. Even if you have the connections, people have to be willing to do it! I only came here because my son told me you often do small batches of precision parts.”

“We do make precision parts, but we don’t have the equipment—everything has to be done by hand!” Director Thompson took a drag and replied, “We do have a few fifth- and sixth-level fitters, and with enough time, they could grind it out by hand, bit by bit. But you have to give us enough time—it’s not like you, brother, with such a tight deadline! And the precision required for this crankshaft is just too high—it’s really unnecessary!”