Huayu: This director is pretty strong.

Chapter 187 Veterans in the Steel Jungle, Rhapsody on Blueprints

2 AM, Shijingshan District, Beijing.

A black Mercedes-Benz S600 drove into the old Shougang factory area, its headlights sweeping across the dilapidated factory buildings, the air thick with the smell of coking coal and rust.

The car finally stopped in front of a huge abandoned workshop.

The rhythmic sound of metal cutting echoed from deep within the workshop, and blue arcs of light flickered in the darkness.

Chen Yan pushed open the door and got out of the car, his leather shoes stepping onto the cement floor covered with oil stains and iron filings.

Su Wan followed with a black briefcase, while Zhang Yuan took two long, rectangular drawing tubes out of the trunk.

The three people walked into the workshop. The tall windows above their heads were covered with thick dust, making the light that fell down appear white.

Deep inside, a man in a faded blue work uniform stood with his back to them, holding a welding torch. Sparks flew from the edge of the steel plate, illuminating his broad back and gray hair.

Chen Yan didn't let Zhang Yuan speak, and walked to an empty iron casting workbench.

"Clean it up."

Zhang Yuan found a rag and wiped away the layers of grease on the table.

Chen Yan personally pulled two thick engineering blueprints from the drawing tube and spread them on the iron table.

Zhang Yuan picked up four more discarded nuts and used them to press down the four corners of the blueprint.

The welding noise stopped.

The man turned off the welding torch, pushed up his protective mask, revealing a wrinkled face with black lines around his eyes and the sides of his nose.

He glanced at Chen Yan's well-tailored suit, then looked at Su Wan and Zhang Yuan.

"You've come to the wrong door."

The man's voice was hoarse and rough, "This is a heavy industry workshop. Get out, and don't damage my equipment."

After saying that, he took off his gloves, walked to the sink, and turned on the tap to wash his hands.

Chen Yan stood in front of the iron table, pressing his hands against the edge of the table.

"Chief Engineer Wang Yuanchao, in 1998, when the Third Branch Factory was restructured, you refused the position of consultant to the General Institute and took over this abandoned workshop, making a living by repairing mining machinery for Shanxi coal bosses."

In the empty workshop, Chen Yan's voice echoed, each word landing on the iron plate.

"With the tightening of environmental protection policies in recent years, most of the coal mines have been closed, and you have less and less work to do. You can barely afford to pay the electricity bills in the workshop."

Wang Yuanchao turned off the tap, grabbed a towel to dry his hands, and turned around.

"You're checking my household registration? Which real estate company are you? You want this land? Let me tell you, as long as I, Wang Yuanchao, have a breath left, the machines in this workshop cannot be dismantled."

"I have no interest in the land."

Chen Yan's finger touched the center of the blueprint.

"I'm interested in your craftsmanship."

Wang Yuanchao snorted before looking down at the enormous blueprint.

At first, he kept his mouth shut and rubbed his fingertips along the seam of his pants, not even wanting to take another look.

But when his gaze fell on the complex mechanical structure in the center of the drawing, the impatience on his face began to fade.

That was an exploded view of a multi-section all-terrain tracked vehicle chassis.

Wang Yuan took a step forward, placed his hands on the table, and almost lay on the blueprints.

The drawings are densely marked with the dimensions, tolerances, and material requirements of thousands of parts.

From the independent suspension system to the planetary gear reducer, every detail is meticulously crafted.

"A three-section hinged structure?"

Wang Yuanchao's throat tightened, and his finger hovered over a hydraulic suspension node. "What are you going to build? This thing weighs at least over a hundred tons. No civilian heavy equipment manufacturer in China can make a load-bearing chassis of this level."

"Movie props".

Chen Yan answered calmly.

Wang Yuanchao grabbed the tattered rag on the table and slammed it to the ground.

"Movie props?"

He pointed at the blueprints, his voice suddenly rising, "You're showing me heavy-duty blueprints of this caliber, and you're telling me you're going to build a prop? Don't you moviemakers love using foam boards painted silver? A few steel pipes welded into a frame, covered with a plastic shell, waved it around in front of a green screen a couple of times, and you dare to use that to scam money? And you come here to make fun of me?"

He pointed to a load-bearing node on the blueprint, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

"Look at what you've drawn! According to your drawings, the main load-bearing axle, with a vehicle weighing 100 tons, will have its bearing severed by the shearing force of the hinge when traveling on a 30-degree slope! And this hydraulic cylinder, with such a long stroke, requires at least 60 MPa of working pressure. There are no more than three factories in China that can make these kinds of high-pressure seals!"

The veteran engineer concluded that Chen Yan was holding up a bluffing piece of paper and deliberately trying to undermine his expertise.

"Get out of here with your worthless paper. I don't have time to play house with you."

Wang Yuanchao turned and left.

Chen Yan picked up a piece of white chalk from the corner of the table and wrote a set of formulas on the black iron plate next to the blueprint.

The chalk scraped across the rough iron plate, the sound so sharp it made one's eardrums tighten.

"The shear force of the main load-bearing shaft is indicated in the drawings as high-carbon steel. If it is replaced with a honeycomb structure wrapped with titanium alloy and composite carbon fiber, the weight can be reduced by 40%, and the shear resistance can be doubled."

Chen Yan wrote down the data as he recited it.

"As for the pressure of the hydraulic cylinder."

He put down his pen and looked up at Wang Yuanchao.

"I don't want 60 MPa, I want 120 MPa, a travel distance of 3 meters, and the error cannot exceed 0.2 millimeters."

Wang Yuanchao paused, then turned back around.

He stared at the formula on the iron plate, then looked down at Chen Yan.

120 MPa, 0.2 mm error.

This was no longer the work of an ordinary heavy factory; he had even brought out aerospace-level requirements.

"You're crazy."

Wang Yuanchao walked back to the table, his Adam's apple bobbing a few times. "Would the cost of creating something like this be terrifyingly high, or is it just for making a movie?"

"The movie is called 'The Wandering Earth'."

Chen Yan clasped his hands together, pressing the backs of his hands together.

"I'm not just going to build this transport vehicle, but also a hibernation pod that's over ten meters tall, a protective suit with an exoskeleton, and a physical model of a planetary engine base that's thirty meters in diameter."

He paused for half a second and tapped the table lightly with his fingertip.

"All mechanical structures must be able to function properly, and all hydraulic systems must withstand extreme impacts."

Chen Yan stared at Wang Yuanchao's cloudy but still sharp eyes.

"I want to use the realst steel to smash those plastic toys in the domestic film market. Chief Engineer Wang, you've been repairing coal trucks in this abandoned workshop for three years, hasn't your skill rusted yet?"

Wang Yuanchao's breathing became heavier, and his chest heaved heavily.

He stared at the blueprint on the table, an extreme challenge that no mechanical engineer could refuse.

Just as I was about to open my mouth, a series of ear-piercing brake screech came from outside the workshop.

Three black Audis with internal passes rushed into the factory area and stopped at the workshop entrance.

The glaring headlights shone directly in, turning the workshop into a stark white light.

The car door opened, and several men in black suits got out.

The leader was a young man with gold-rimmed glasses and slicked-back hair.

His leather shoes stepped into the oil stains, and disgust immediately appeared on his face.

Following behind him was Lao Liu, the head of the security department of Shougang Third Plant, who was covered in sweat and clutching a document with a red stamp in his hand.

Zhang Yuan stepped forward, blocking Chen Yan and Su Wan.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses stopped three meters away from the iron table, covered his mouth and nose with a handkerchief, glanced at Chen Yan, and chuckled softly.

"Director Chen, it's really not easy to find you. Coming to this garbage dump to discuss business in the middle of the night?"

Su Wan leaned close to Chen Yan's ear and uttered two words.

"Zhou Ming, Li Jianguo's special assistant at Oriental Cinemas, specializes in handling dirty work."

Zhou Ming put down the handkerchief, took the document from Lao Liu's hand, walked to the iron table, and slammed it onto Chen Yan's blueprint with a thud.

"Wang Yuanchao, right?"

Zhou Ming looked at the senior engineer, his tone high and mighty, "I am a representative of Oriental Cinema Line. The factory office just issued a document; someone reported that your abandoned workshop is illegally taking on private work and poses a major safety hazard. From now on, all old workshops in the third branch factory are to be completely sealed off, and all personnel are to be cleared out immediately."

Wang Yuanchao's expression changed, and he took a step forward.

"Bullshit! I pay the rent on time, and I maintain the machines myself. Where are the safety hazards?"

Old Liu grabbed Wang Yuanchao's arm and whispered in his ear.

"Old Wang, stop messing around. This is a direct order from the factory office. These people are guests of a high-ranking leader. You can't win against them. You'd better leave now."

Zhou Ming turned to look at Chen Yan, a hint of disdain on his lips.

"Director Chen, President Li asked me to pass on a message to you: As long as the five major cinema chains in Beijing are still around, no qualified heavy machinery manufacturer will dare to take on Yanying Culture's orders."

Zhou Ming tapped his fingers on the document, the sound not loud, but the threat was clear.

"You can't even manufacture a single screw."