Rebuilding and Rebooting

"...Is that so?" A voice came from the other end of the line. Late that night, Yin Zhaoyang, who had finally been discharged after undergoing an exhaustive battery of tests at the hospital, drove several loops around the city before finally retrieving a specialized mobile phone from a courier. The highest-grade satellite connection routed by Boundless Telecom guaranteed absolute secrecy and security for the call. Even so, he was subjected to a thorough search upon entering the room to ensure he was not carrying or bugged with any troublesome surveillance devices. Whether he had already received word beforehand or not, Mr. Shang merely offered that flat remark after hearing Yin Zhaoyang recount the entire incident and the losses incurred. "A bit too callow after all. Getting anxious already." Mr. Shang sighed softly. "A pity we couldn't pin down any leverage or evidence against him." This pawn pushed across the river by Lyu Yingyue was simply far too cautious. No, it would be more accurate to say that his ability was too well suited to an environment built from countless mechanical constructs like a city. It was virtually impossible to guard against. He did not even need to show his face. From start to finish, he had set up a lounger right under the spotlights, establishing a flawless alibi without leaving behind a single trace or clue. Even if there had been any, the Tong family would have wiped them clean long ago. Echo Tech-Industry was far away in Dongcheng, possessing far too little leverage over Yacheng. Otherwise, they could have used the incident to make a fuss. "You did well." A rare note of approval crept into Shang Tongwen's tone. On his end of the line, Yin Zhaoyang instinctively lowered his head, stammering with trepidation that he didn't deserve the praise. Having spent so many years treading carefully across Haizhou, serving as a liaison and working like a beast of burden for the bosses behind the scenes, he was certainly not devoid of the ability to read between the lines. He could clearly sense the faint tinge of regret in Shang Tongwen's voice... *—Why didn't you die?* If Yin Zhaoyang had died from this, they would have had far better leverage to exploit afterward. Just like Ji Jue being thrust to the forefront, how could he be the only piece of bait cast into the waters? Above these churned, murky waters, the people holding the fishing rods stood on the shore smiling at one another, chatting idly and pleasantly. Meanwhile, down in the silt beneath the murky depths, between the fighting fish with nowhere left to retreat, there was only life or death. Yin Zhaoyang dared not dwell on it any further, cold sweat drenching his back. "It's just... the losses were rather heavy." "Doesn't matter. The manpower you're short of, plus new bodyguards—I'll have people dispatched to you," Shang Tongwen said. "Everyone's attention has been focused on Midtown lately, so I can't spare the time myself. I'll handle things on Huanyu's side. As for controlling the distribution channels and the upstream and downstream supply chains, I'm leaving that to you. Whatever methods you use, I do not want to hear that they have commenced operations." "Understood." Yin Zhaoyang asked tentatively, "What about Ye Xian's side, though...?" "If Tide Sound Workshop directly enters the fray in this matter, I'll count it as a major merit on your record." Shang Tongwen chuckled. "Before the Military Department signs the Southeast Defense Agreement, if Lyu Yingyue actually dares to go head-to-head against us, nothing could be better. Everyone would love to see what cards she still has left in her hand." Yin Zhaoyang did not dare say another word, nor did he dare think about it too deeply. Soon, the call was disconnected on the other end, leaving behind only a final instruction: "Do your work with diligence." In the protracted silence, Yin Zhaoyang sat in his chair, staring at the phone on the desk. He smoked one cigarette after another, his eyes bloodshot. By the time the last butt was stubbed out in the ashtray, the crushed remains had piled into a small mountain—just like the fate of countless consumables. Yin Zhaoyang rose resolutely and departed. There was no way back. To most people's surprise, the storm passed just as swiftly as it had arrived. Just like the hundred thousand viral trends that popped up every day on the internet, once the condemnation, fury, and sighs had run their course, impassioned justice was treated as having been served. Everyone moved on, plunging back into the sensational news breaking around the Chaocheng Governor's corruption case. As for Haian Auto Works and Ji Jue... *Sounds vaguely familiar, but who's that again?* Outside the factory, the righteous accusers, the victims who had appeared out of nowhere, and the paid extras brought in to swell the crowd had all vanished without a trace before nightfall. More precisely, at five o'clock in the afternoon, when the security personnel Layla dispatched arrived on the scene. Four or five knockoff minivans produced by Haian Auto Works years ago slammed to a screeching halt at the gate. Then, like a compressed file suddenly unpacking, dozens upon dozens—nearly a hundred men—spilled out in a swarm. Every single one was a burly, crew-cut powerhouse with dark skin, bulging muscles, a tight vest, and camouflage pants. Among them were several dozen elite units hired from the Veterans Club—absolute tier-zero meta picks: bloodthirsty geezers! The hulking brutes locked down the perimeter in the blink of an eye. Then, scruffy, muscled old men brandishing batons sprang forward, tearing into the crowd of rabble-rousers like tigers among sheep. After just three strikes, the paid extras who had sworn to fight to the death for justice were already scurrying like rats with their heads between their hands. Any remaining diehards trying to put up a fight were met with tear gas whipped out of the musclebound bruisers' cargo pants and high-pressure water hoses freshly hooked up to fire hydrants. A truly professional outfit after all—trash cleanup had never been so fast! Watching from inside, Ji Jue could only applaud the spectacular show. Before long, the unruly mob outside had vanished into thin air. By the time the police responded to the dispatch call and arrived on the scene, they found a dozen frail-looking, gasping old men lying on the ground, batons discarded, clinging to battered and bruised troublemakers while crying out and pointing at their "assailants." Everyone present swore that yes, those troublemakers were the ones who beat the elderly! There was even surveillance footage! Video can't be photoshopped, right? How could a surveillance camera lie? By the time the old men collected their settlement money and Ji Jue's red envelopes, making plans to meet up for mahjong and lottery tickets before strutting off, total peace had returned to Haian Auto Works. The storm had cleared. Unfortunately, the dark clouds remained, hanging even thicker than before. Even after suffering a bitter loss, Yin Zhaoyang seemed to have only dug his heels in deeper. Dropping all pretenses, his moves grew increasingly frequent and high-profile as he mobilized all his channels and influence to obstruct them at every turn. He established a stranglehold over parts and raw materials in particular. Yan Jian ran himself ragged to the point of exhaustion, only to find he couldn't even buy a single set of brake pads. Haian's warehouse remained completely barren. As for the machinery that had sat idle for years and urgently needed maintenance and repair, no supplier or technician would even give them the time of day. The only haul they managed to secure was a dozen truckloads of steel, rubber, and other basic materials that Ji Jue had arranged directly through the Tong family's factories. That night, Haian Auto Works shut its gates. Security took their posts, the worker beasts retreated to their pens, and all fell quiet. After seeing Ye Chun home, Ji Jue picked up his toolbox and hummed a tune as he walked toward the workshop. "Hey, where do you think you're going?" Yan Jian, who had been too busy over the past two days to even go home and had been sleeping on a pallet in the duty office, scrambled up. Poking his balding head out, he eyed Ji Jue with suspicion and deep concern. He couldn't shake the feeling that although the kid looked calm on the surface, he had actually lost his mind a while ago... God forbid he secretly couldn't handle the harsh reality and ended up hanging himself from the factory gate. Things had finally started looking slightly up; even if everything around them was nonsense, at least there was still nonsense to occupy them. Yan Jian was genuinely terrified that Ji Jue would suddenly score a fatal blow for the pathetic-loser squad. "Repairs," Ji Jue said, swinging the toolbox in his hand. "Hasn't the equipment been sitting around for ages?" Seeing that deadpan, matter-of-fact look on his face, Yan Jian rolled his eyes. *Nutjob.* Now he was no longer worried about Ji Jue hanging himself at the factory gate; he was worried Ji Jue's mental state would drive him to hang *Yan Jian* from the factory gate... "Then make sure you repair it well. Be thorough." Yan Jian sighed, waved him off, and went back to lying on the pallet to sleep. The shrill screech of the workshop doors opening drifted from the distance, then gradually fell shut. He drifted into a deep sleep. Inside the dim workshop, Ji Jue felt around and flipped the switches. With a series of crackling pops, dim amber lights flickered on one by one along the ceiling, sputtering and occasionally dying out. Drifting motes of dust swirled in the shafts of light before settling once more. The massive pieces of equipment sleeping beneath the grime remained motionless as ever, completely unresponsive. Yet for some reason, one could almost feel... a weariness and sorrow echoing amid the dust and grease. "It really is just like a morgue." Ji Jue sighed softly as he stepped forward, trailing his fingers across one heavily dusted casing after another, sensing the soundless wailing trapped within. Squandered by the passage of time and years, waiting in helpless inertia, tormented day after day, their hope eroding away beneath the gnawing of rats and ants, until they were ultimately written off as scrap and tossed onto the junk heap. "It hurts, doesn't it?" Ji Jue reached out, wiping the panel of a massive stamping press, and asked softly, "How are you holding up?" The press gave no answer. Only, amid the screech of scraping steel, its outer plating peeled back and mechanisms shifted as an enormous gear-eye opened from within the casing, staring blankly up at him. From the corner of its rusted eye, a mottled tear ran down silently. A lament, a prayer, a plea. "Then start moving, my friend." Ji Jue stroked the corner of its eye, a silent smile touching his lips. "See? You still have your backbone and fury, don't you?" In that instant, piercing screeches of metal against metal erupted throughout the hall, echoing from every corner and bursting forth from beneath every dormant mass of steel. Like wheezes, like wails, like roars, or like long, drawn-out breaths. As the blazing light of tinder ignited in Ji Jue's eyes, a vast and magnificent surge of spiritus erupted from his body. The Non-Offensive matrix manifested across his hands. And then came a Deus Ex Machina unlike any before! In an instant, it engulfed the entire workshop! Sparks flashed in ceaseless bursts, and the grating shrieks of metal ground on without end. The ground, the walls, the ceiling, and even the steel trusses trembled and shook as countless specks of dust danced in the air. Beneath the flickering, dim lights, massive shadows rose, shifted, and overlapped, casting grotesque silhouettes against the walls. Inside the silent workshop, giants of steel were endowed with phantom souls and life, rising up from the ground! Amid the groans of the concrete floor, gouges tore through the surface as a colossal form slithered forward like a giant serpent. The awakened assembly line contracted and shifted, its iron scales catching the light and scattering countless shimmering motes. A long, rusted tongue darted and flicked. Crimson eyes opened, gazing downward in bewilderment at Ji Jue standing right before it. After a long moment, it nuzzled its sharp, angular forehead affectionately against his body. Behind it stood the massive stamping press, built like a colossal elephant. Merely standing up, its ponderous bulk kicked up gale-force gusts as the gaping maw stretching across its chassis opened wide, greedily drawing in every scrap of air. And where hundreds of hoist arms converged, a gargantuan mechanical spider had shaken off its crust of rust. Its menacing shadow loomed over Ji Jue, yet held not a trace of ferocity. Tamed, it prostrated itself on the ground, letting Ji Jue step onto its head as it hoisted him into midair. Boon rained down from Ji Jue's hands. Everywhere it touched, dead hulks and broken iron endowed with life opened their eyes once more, returning to the mortal world. Once again, from the void, they felt the world before them. And the dominion of their god! Ji Jue narrowed his eyes and took a deep breath, savoring the invigorating scent of engine oil filling the air—better than any fragrant spice or delicacy—while the crisp resonance of shifting mechanisms humming in his ears surpassed the loveliest celestial melodies. "Doesn't seem too troublesome after all." He felt the pain and trauma radiating from each colossal machine. After a long while, he leaned down and patted their heads and hulls. "Line up in order according to your original stations." The artisan Ji Jue rolled up his sleeves. Behind him, shifting quicksilver coalesced into dozens of arms, flexing freely. "Time to get to work!" You've rested long enough. Let's begin anew, and remake it all! Amid clamorous, shrill clamor, a frantic night flew by. When Yan Jian pushed open the heavy doors, bracing himself for the sight of Ji Jue throwing in the towel and completely trashing whatever was left, his vision went black from sheer shock. *Holy shit, where the hell am I?* *Is this still Haian Auto Works?!* Look at these spotless floors. Look at these walls, restored as good as new. Look at the assembly bay, completely free of a single speck of dust. And look at those green indicator lights glowing anew, every piece of machinery and instrumentation humming along as normal. There wasn't even a shred of damned noise... For a moment, Yan Jian's legs felt filled with lead; he didn't even dare step inside. He feared that taking another step forward would reveal this entire scene had been painted overnight by that bastard Ji Jue just to mess with him. But even if it were a prank, it couldn't possibly look this realistic! Dazed, he instinctively snagged an intern walking past on his way to wash up, pinching the kid's arm. "Does that hurt?" "It hurts," the dazed student nodded. Yet Yan Jian still couldn't believe it. He grabbed another intern and pinched again: "Does that hurt?" *Smack!* Still groggy from waking up early, the college student instinctively slapped him across the face, stumbling back in horror into the arms of another male classmate. "Pervert!" Yan Jian's vision swam; the slap nearly sent him sprawling to the floor. It definitely hurt. Seems it really wasn't a dream... "How did you do this?" He grabbed Ji Jue, flushed red with excitement, utterly incredulous. "How on earth did you pull this off?" "Just... do a bit of this, a bit of that, then that, and that's it." Ji Jue calmly patted his shoulder, smiling broadly. *Just roll with it.* *Don't ask—asking would be rude.* Besides, what did this even amount to? With the Non-Offensive matrix, Masterwork Nature, the supreme Deus Ex Machina, maxed-out engineering skills, and alchemy worthy of the Chief Artisan of his cohort, failing to fix even these minor issues would have been the real disgrace. "Alright, we've wasted enough days doing nothing. Everyone go familiarize yourselves with the equipment. If there's anything you don't understand, be sure to ask Engineer Yan. Don't go fooling around on your own." After working all night, Ji Jue planned to get some rest, instructing Yan Jian to take the wide-eyed interns around to get acquainted with the setup. The students were all brimming with enthusiasm, practically chomping at the bit. Though they were useless for anything besides enthusiasm, at least enthusiasm was something. After all, on top of the referral fees paid to their faculty leads, Ji Jue was paying them extra monthly wages, complete with performance bonuses and piecework pay, and had even guaranteed an eight-hour workday. For college students who had long steeled themselves to grind through sweatshops and black-hearted mills just to get a foot in the door, this was practically a fairy tale. Having fully prepared themselves to descend into hell, they had taken a right turn out the door and ended up in the Promised Land... Especially when they heard the cafeteria was free and medical subsidies were included, tears nearly welled in their eyes. *We could never repay Director Ji's kindness!* *Never in a million lifetimes!* Once the morning passed, Ji Jue got up from his nap and finally sat down for a meeting with Yan Jian, who had spent the whole morning in excitement before finally settling down. Currently, the two of them were the only qualified engineers in the entire factory. One Grade 1, one Grade 2. A bit short-staffed, but enough to make do. "Look, now... we have materials, even if they're sparse. We have equipment, even if it's outdated. We have personnel, even if they're all college interns. At the very least, our basic prerequisites are met," Ji Jue said, blissfully oblivious to how his words were sending Yan Jian's blood pressure through the roof. Finally, he asked, "So, when can we restart production?" "..." Yan Jian hesitated, opening and closing his mouth as if debating whether to spray a mouthful of blood across Ji Jue's face. After sputtering for a long time, he could only manage to reply as politely as possible: "Building a car isn't simple work." *Big brother, do you have any idea what it means to be the crown jewel of industry?* *Do you understand the pinnacle of manufacturing?* *Do you think you're buying a toy car to appease a toddler?* *Just swipe a card at the supermarket and call it a day?* "I know," Ji Jue nodded calmly, persistently pressing the question. "So, at the fastest, how long will it take?" "Under our current conditions..." Yan Jian grimaced and pondered for a long time before offering a relatively optimistic estimate: "If everything goes smoothly, half a year." "Out of the question," Ji Jue shook his head decisively. "That's way too long." [???] *Am I crazy, or are you?* Veins bulged and throbbed on Yan Jian's temples; his blood pressure was slipping out of control. *You're an engineer certified at Grade 2, and that license couldn't have been faked. You can't be this clueless about the reality of things, can you?* After wheezing for breath, he could only ask, "How long are you expecting?" Ji Jue smiled and replied, "One week." Silence. In that heavy silence, Yan Jian felt a wire snap inside his brain, throwing his circuits completely out of whack. He almost slammed the table to curse him out, but in the end, he forced the words through gritted teeth: "Director... Director Ji, we are an automaker. We're not building little tricycles!" "Huh? Aren't we?" Ji Jue looked puzzled and innocent, as if genuinely confused. "Then why shouldn't we build them?" "..." Yan Jian froze. He opened his mouth to retort, but found himself speechless, flushing beet red with frustration. Then he heard Ji Jue's voice. "You didn't honestly think that after years of shutdown, we could use this batch of obsolete equipment to shock the world overnight by building some top-of-the-line sports car or legendary model, did you?" Ji Jue looked at him with an expression of bafflement. "Do you really think staging a comeback is that simple?" Who doesn't want to release a new model every two months to fleece consumers? Who doesn't want to monetize heated seats, steering wheels, and radios as separate subscription add-ons? Who doesn't want Level 5 autonomous driving right out of the box? *But do you have that capability, big brother?* *You think I'm dreaming, but who's the one really daydreaming here?* Such pipedreams were things Ji Jue didn't even dare entertain—entertaining them was practically a sin. No matter how lofty the ambition, its foundation lay in accepting reality, knowing oneself, and identifying the immediate priority! If Haian Auto Works wanted to survive and have a future, it had to get running! It had to re-enter the market! It had to step back into the public eye, upright and unashamed! A bottom-tier market was still a market. Clunky production was still production. Even a piece of junk was still a product! "Using a great talent for a humble task is still putting it to use. Engineer Yan, we don't have a choice, and neither does Haian." Ji Jue set a freshly drafted design brief on the desk and slowly slid it over. "If we can't even handle the 'now,' we have no right to speak of a future." Yan Jian fell silent, unable to speak. After a long time, he pulled his glasses from his pocket, put them on, and reviewed the design requirements over and over. In the end, all that escaped him was a silent sigh. "Are you truly confident?" "I am. Out of ten, I'm one hundred and twenty thousand percent confident!" Ji Jue nodded firmly, without a shred of hesitation. "So, are you in or not?" Yan Jian said nothing. He simply gathered the design brief and slipped it into his pocket. "For a thing like this, give me two days." He gave a final wave of his hand. "Those stu... those interns, I don't have the energy to babysit them. Find someone else to manage them." Whether it was facing reality or simply throwing caution to the wind, the grief, indignation, and fury bottled up over a wasted decade surged within him, transforming into a fighting spirit so eerie it gave him goosebumps. Pushing open the door, Yan Jian looked up at the sky, roared out a ferocious "Fuck!", rolled up his sleeves, and hesitated no longer. *Let's build some fucking trikes!* *Who says a three-wheeler isn't a vehicle!*