Chapter 9: Securing the First Target Client

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Cheng Shi locked the door to the storage room and focused intently on machining a high-precision bearing.

Though it was cooler now than during the day, wearing a mask while operating the CNC lathe made the heat even more stifling.

Sweat quickly soaked the ground beneath him.

A few days ago, the newspaper had published a notice: “The automobile factory’s CNC machine is malfunctioning, causing a shutdown for several days. To provide young technicians with an opportunity to demonstrate their skills, the factory is offering a reward to anyone who can solve the problem—a cash prize of one thousand yuan.”

This was the very first client Cheng Shi had chosen.

Thus, he was working on one of the critical components of a car crankshaft—a high-precision bearing.

This type of bearing was exactly one of the parts the automobile factory had intended to machine using their newly acquired CNC equipment.

The greatest advantage of CNC machines was their ability to tackle curved or contoured parts that ordinary machines struggled with.

For example, the piece Cheng Shi was making now, if done by hand, would require the coordinated effort of skilled turners, millers, grinders, layout workers, and heat-treaters, taking at least several days—and with a high scrap rate.

Cheng Shi’s composite CNC lathe finished the job in less than half an hour.

Moreover, the precision was superior, and the reliability excellent.

He made three pieces, checked their accuracy and tolerances, and was very satisfied.

Looking at the time, it was getting late; if he continued, it would disturb the neighbors’ sleep.

In truth, he could have adjusted the machine to reach even higher precision, but that would take more time.

Plus, the secondhand tools he had were incomplete and not very convenient.

Still, this was enough for him to earn his first pot of gold.

After locking the door, Cheng Shi was about to turn and head upstairs when a timid voice called out, "Brother Shi."

Startled, Cheng Shi looked closely and saw it was Mo Xiaoxi, the girl from the sixth floor who was a second-year student at the city high school. He said, "Oh, Xiaoxi. Why are you still out so late?"

Mo Xiaoxi replied, "I just finished evening self-study. Aunt Qian said you quit your job? And you broke up with Sister Xiaoying?"

Those busybody aunties hadn’t been idle; they had already spread the news far and wide.

He was sure they had exaggerated and added a lot of drama.

Cheng Shi felt helpless and too tired to explain, so he muttered, "Yeah."

"You did the right thing. I support you starting on your own. Working for the collective was wasting your talent," Mo Xiaoxi stepped forward and stuffed a roll of something into Cheng Shi’s hand. "This is the pocket money I’ve saved. For your startup."

Before he could react, Mo Xiaoxi had already turned and walked away.

Cheng Shi was baffled. "Hey? Wait."

Though since middle school, women had occasionally given him food and small gifts, this was the first time someone directly handed him money.

Besides, he didn’t recall this girl ever having a crush on him.

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Mo Xiaoxi seemed not to hear and just kept running forward.

Cheng Shi caught up to her in a few strides, bent down and placed his hand on the wall to block her path, frowning, "Hey, you’re not working yet. How can you give your parents’ hard-earned money to someone so casually?"

Mo Xiaoxi was stopped, her face instantly flushing red like an apple. She whispered, "It’s my scholarship."

Cheng Shi said, "No, even scholarship money isn’t appropriate."

If Cheng Juan gave him money, he would have plenty of chances to repay later.

But for an underage girl to give him money, it hurt his pride.

Had he really become such a worthless man in others’ eyes?

He didn’t want any physical contact that might make the girl feel uncomfortable.

Besides, he was dirty and smelly now, so after some hesitation, he couldn’t force the money back into her hands.

"Anyway, I have nowhere else to spend it. Just think of it as me investing in your business. When you succeed, you can pay me back," Mo Xiaoxi pleaded softly, "Please don’t tell anyone. If my mom finds out, she’ll scold me."

Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled brightly in the dim hallway light, like a stream at dusk.

Cheng Shi was momentarily dazed.

Seizing his distraction, Mo Xiaoxi crouched down and slipped past under his arm, darting up the stairs like a little fox.

The stair treads were narrow and high; if he chased her, she might easily fall.

Besides, any scuffle seen by the neighbors would bring gossip.

Cheng Shi pursed his lips. He’d return the money to her when he found the chance.

Before his rebirth, he had never noticed this little girl’s feelings because he was too preoccupied, fighting the world alongside Xiaoying for money.

Moreover, the Mo family was strict, and Mo Xiaoxi soon went off to university.

After leaving home, he never had the chance to see her again.

Cai Aiping noticed he was soaked through and felt a pang of sympathy. "Son, you don’t have to rush so much. Don’t wear yourself out."

Cheng Shi said, "It’s fine, I’m not tired."

He took a shower, then glanced at the money Mo Xiaoxi had given him: one hundred and one yuan.

He found a notebook, wrote down the date, and listed three notes, including the parts and tools Li Zhigang had given him.

Then he lay down and fell asleep immediately.

The bed was just a wooden plank with a bamboo mat laid on top—hard as could be.

Yet he fell asleep instantly, enjoying a rare, dreamless night until dawn.

Perhaps it was because those he loved were near, those he despised were gone, and he no longer had to scheme or contend with anyone.

Everything was truly going his way.

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The city’s automobile factory lay to the east of Cheng Shi’s home, and the machinery factory to the west, both some distance away.

He had to take the bus.

Before dawn, he set out, buying two steamed buns by the roadside and eating one as he walked.

From afar, he saw Mo Xiaoxi waiting at the bus stop and recalled the city high school was along the same bus route as the auto factory.

It wasn’t the weekend yesterday, so perhaps Mo Xiaoxi had come back just to look for him.

He thought for a moment and stepped behind a tree to avoid being seen talking to her, so Mo Xiaoxi wouldn’t get scolded by her mother.

At this time, bus tickets were still sold manually.

The ticket seller had tightly curled hair, heavy makeup, and held a ticket puncher, with a leather shoulder bag full of change.

If not for company regulations requiring uniforms, Cheng Shi guessed she’d wear the most dazzling dress she could find.

When she saw Cheng Shi, her eyes lit up briefly but then flicked over his worn clothes and shoes, and a trace of pity appeared.

Judging a person’s economic status, occupation, and education by their attire was a survival skill for many.

While it helped avoid wasting time on people deemed worthless, it also risked missing opportunities and falling for deception.

Because clothing was the easiest thing to disguise.

Most of the time, people only showed what they wanted you to see.

Mo Xiaoxi probably didn’t notice him; after boarding, she sat at the very back.

Cheng Shi chose a seat farther forward.

Buses of this era were mostly Yangtze brand, with iron bodies and white paint adorned with red stripes.

Seats were made of solid natural cedar wood, featuring industrial-style high-end cast-iron armrests and a 24-hour natural ventilation cooling system.

The road outside was full of potholes, offering almost no suspension.

So once the bus started, it rocked like a cradle.

It provided the entire vehicle’s passengers with nearly two hours of childhood joy at a bargain price.

Not to mention the elderly or sick, even Cheng Shi’s sturdy frame was rattled dizzy; gritting his teeth, he thought, “The first thing I’ll do when I have money is buy a car.”