Chapter 22: How Could One Return Empty-Handed from a Mountain of Treasures?

In his memory, the previous self was an honest boy who worked in the coal yard and rarely wandered around the rolling mill. Moreover, the rolling mill was so vast that he was surprisingly unfamiliar with many parts of it—some places he had never even been to, and others he hadn’t even heard of.

In contrast, Old Shen, a maintenance fitter, was like a living map. He led Duan Chengliang on a winding path to a courtyard.

Duan Chengliang stared in astonishment, almost unable to contain his surprise.

He asked Old Shen, “Is all this scrap?”

Old Shen nodded. “Here we have temporarily stored furnace slag, leftover pieces, and substandard defective steel.”

Duan Chengliang swallowed hard, thinking to himself that even defective steel was still steel. He recalled how his own father’s blacksmith shop used primitive methods to smelt steel, and to obtain even a small amount of carbon steel, it often took tremendous effort—days and nights without rest to produce just a little.

Of course, the steel he forged was different from the steel before him. For example, Japanese swordsmith masters always insisted that only swords they personally smelted by traditional methods were genuine blades.

They believed that only by doing so could they infuse their spirit, bringing something from nothing into the blade, gaining an intimate understanding of every nuance of their creation, almost to the bone and blood.

Such claims were mysterious and unverifiable, perhaps just a way to embellish their reputation.

But the legend of Ganjiang and Moye had almost reached a divine level. The mastery of forging techniques was far beyond what Duan Chengliang could imagine.

At most, he could heat a piece of iron or steel until it glowed red and hammer it into shape. He hadn’t yet mastered quenching or tempering. Those profound and esoteric arts still seemed like fantasy novels to him.

“Master Shen, no one oversees this place?”

Old Shen laughed. “What are you thinking? Of course there’s oversight. These materials are recycled in batches. Only what truly can’t be used is sent to the scrap yard. Didn’t you see the gatekeeper at the entrance? I had to greet him before coming in.”

Duan Chengliang suddenly remembered the small hut on the left as they entered the compound. Old Shen had gestured toward it on the way in.

That was the strength of their local connections.

Duan Chengliang didn’t dwell further and hurried to pick out useful materials. The space in his possession was empty now—like guarding a treasure mountain, it was unthinkable to leave empty-handed.

Because Old Shen stayed close by, flanking Duan Chengliang, he dared not move too boldly, only sneaking one or two suitable items into his space when Old Shen wasn’t looking.

He had to be extremely careful. If Old Shen noticed a large piece of material had vanished right before his eyes, that would be quite a tale.

He found suitable rebar—lengths and thicknesses to choose from at will.

This yard for storing scrap awaiting remelting was loosely managed at this time, but it would surely become more strictly controlled in the future.

If these materials were used in the grand steel smelting campaigns planned a few months hence, they would be worth a fortune.

Not to mention the leftover pieces and substandard steel, even the piles of furnace slag, towering like mountains, were valuable.

Duan Chengliang selected a dozen or so pieces of rebar, each over twenty centimeters long. Old Shen fetched a worn sack from the gatekeeper’s hut and handed it to him to load the rebar.

Seizing the moment when Old Shen stepped aside, Duan Chengliang swiftly stuffed many items into his space.

Next time, getting in here would be difficult, so he had to take advantage of Old Shen’s occasional inattention to stash as much as he could, without the luxury of careful selection—just whatever was handy.

Compared to scrap steel, coke was trickier.

Old Shen told Duan Chengliang, “There’s a normal loss of a few pounds of coke in the warehouse, but you can’t take too much at once. It’s not like coal. This time, you can take maybe a dozen or so pounds. I don’t know if that will be enough.”

A dozen pounds of coke wasn’t much, but it solved Duan Chengliang’s problem of going from nothing to something. With the iron and coal to forge hammerheads for Old Shen, the coke was an unexpected bonus, and he was pleased.

Having gathered everything, Old Shen patted Duan Chengliang on the shoulder. “Chengliang, get that master to hurry up. We’re in urgent need here. If you can help me get this done, feel free to make any requests. Rest assured, I won’t let you work for nothing. I’ve agreed with the forging workshop on a certain amount. I’ll personally ensure you get your share.”

Old Shen left. Watching his retreating figure, Duan Chengliang pondered.

People often say that among ten thousand people, there are all kinds of characters. The rolling mill now had nearly ten thousand workers.

It was truly a large forest, with all sorts of birds. Strict management couldn’t keep everything in check, especially when the internal management of the mill was clearly less than rigorous.

Helping each other with side jobs like this was probably a common sight in the factory. Making use of state resources to ease everyone’s life could be seen as a form of worker welfare. Thinking this way, it seemed reasonable.

That afternoon, Duan Chengliang’s shift involved loading coal—a perfect chance to experience firsthand how important and powerful his newly strengthened kidneys were.

Indeed, even in that brief moment, the two hot currents flowing through his kidneys seemed to boost their function by at least twenty to thirty percent. Haha, that was purely his own fancy, likely more psychological than real. Still, he knew exactly how much fixing a broken vegetable knife handle was worth.

But no matter what, at least when doing heavy labor, he still had the mental capacity to ponder things—that was progress in his physical condition.

While loading coal, his mind drifted to Qin Huaru, who had promised to see him last night but never showed. It left him tossing and turning, unable to sleep peacefully all night.

Hmph! He vowed to make sure that untrustworthy woman learned a lesson when next they met.

To be safe, Duan Chengliang avoided entering his space while working with his comrades.

If any strange phenomena occurred, it would be awkward if others saw. So he waited until after work, alone, to enter his space and forge his ten hammerheads.

Their job loading and unloading coal was extremely demanding. The rolling mill seemed to treat them like human machinery—once they started, they never stopped. There was always more coal to handle.

In Duan Chengliang’s impression, the immense coal yard was always a continuous mountain of coal, with no peak ever lowered.

Every day, large trucks, small trucks, long trains, short trains, came and went ceaselessly. And the coal yard workers were like tireless ants, working tirelessly amid the floating coal dust, carving out their own meaning.

Of course, more realistically, it was all for the monthly thirty-two yuan soaked with sweat and blood.

Near the end of the shift, Duan Chengliang quietly resolved to strengthen his body further next time. The minor improvement from fixing a broken vegetable knife handle was not enough to make coal loading enjoyable.

Sigh, today he was truly exhausted and barely holding on.