Chapter 663 Director Liu Joins

Chapter 663 Director Liu Joins

Wang Jianguo leaned forward, and the patches on the knees of his overalls were particularly conspicuous in the sunlight - they were sewn in the style of Liu Chuanjun.

"Director Liu, don't underestimate yourself!"

His Henan accent sounded a bit honest, and his sleeves were rolled up to reveal his tanned arms.

"I went to a town meeting the other day, and everyone said, 'The brick factory at Jianye Farm has been able to survive for 30 years, all thanks to Master Liu's eyes that can identify soil.'"

"Do you remember the torrential rain that washed away the brickyard last year? If you hadn't led us to stack the wet bricks into a "human" shape overnight, all 20,000 bricks would have been wasted!"

Zhao Shuzhuo nodded quickly and took out a cowhide book from his bag. On the cover were written four big characters in red pen: "Brick Factory Notes":

"I wrote down everything you said: 'Look at the color of the soil, knead the soil into a ball, and listen to the sound of the soil'! Look -"

He opened a page, which had soil samples of different colors pasted on it, with words marked next to them such as "dark brown with gold sand, suitable for firing load-bearing bricks" and "the soil is bluish and needs to be mixed with 30% river sand".

"Last time you taught us to use the 'bowl-breaking method' to measure the viscosity of clay. We tried seven times before we succeeded. Now every time I take soil samples, I remember your words 'the best is if the bottom of the bowl does not crack.'"

Liu Chuanjun's fingers suddenly touched the reading glasses box in his pocket, inside which lay the antihypertensive drugs given to him by his employees two years ago.

He looked at the shining eyes of the two young men in front of him, and recalled that at the brick factory's technical reform meeting last month, he had stubbornly opposed the renewal of equipment. In the end, it was the energy consumption comparison chart calculated by Zhao Shuzhuo using a computer that convinced him.

"But you are all educated, you understand blueprints and can calculate data..."

He lowered his voice and his eyes fell on the electronic watch on Wang Jianguo's wrist, which had a digital display that he could not understand.

"I just rely on my old experience to mess around."

“Experience is more valuable than gold!”

Wang Jianguo suddenly raised his voice, startling the pigeons outside the window and making them fly up.

"Last month, we calculated the kiln temperature according to the blueprint, but the bricks we fired always had crisp corners. You came and took one look and said, 'The fire path is off.' You adjusted the vent by 20 centimeters and it was fixed immediately! If this matter gets out, it will be as bad as ten college students!"

He became more and more excited as he spoke, and almost knocked over the teacup on the table.

"Director Song said that you have to draw a circle on the foundation yourself when building the kiln in the new factory - this is the rule!"

Zhao Shuzhuo struck while the iron was hot and took out a yellowed photo from his bag. It was taken 20 years ago when the old brick factory was put into production. The young Liu Chuanjun was standing in front of the kiln, holding the red bricks that had just come out of the kiln in his hands, and behind him were the workers with coal dust on their faces.

"Look at this photo,"

His fingertips brushed lightly across the photographic paper.

"Young people today don't know that you led everyone to build the kiln using traditional methods, and you worked day and night for half a month. The bricks you finally produced were harder than those made in the city factories. Where can you learn such skills?"

Liu Chuanjun's nose suddenly felt sore as he remembered himself in the photo wearing a green military uniform with mud still stained on his trouser legs.

The wind outside the window lifted the corner of his clothes, revealing the washed-out vest underneath - it was bought by his daughter last year, and she insisted on having the words "Safe Production" embroidered on the collar.

"Fine,"

He finally spoke, his voice filled with the satisfaction of having made a desperate move.

"We'll go to the north slope tonight and look at the soil with a flashlight. But let me make this clear first—"

He raised a finger, and his eyes regained their former sharpness.

"As for the 'automated control room' you mentioned, I still have to decide how to build it. But the direction of the kiln and the width of the fire door..."

He paused, a proud smile on his face.

"You have to follow my old rules."

Wang Jianguo and Zhao Shuzhuo looked at each other and breathed a sigh of relief at the same time.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone through the window, casting golden dust on Liu Chuanjun's white hair. When he reached out to take the document, his fingertips lingered for a moment on the signature column of "Liu Chuanjun" - those were the three words he had asked his daughter to teach him to write neatly yesterday.

"go!"

He stood up suddenly, and the key chain at his waist jingled.

"Let's go to the cafeteria and borrow two shovels. We need to dig up the topsoil and see what's underneath."

Song Guohua leaned against the door frame and watched the scene, with hot steam rising from the enamel pot in his hand.

He recalled the first time he followed Liu Chuanjun down the brick kiln forty years ago. The other party patted him on the shoulder and said, "Don't be afraid, follow me."

At this moment, the setting sun stretched the shadows of the three people very long. The young figures tightly surrounded the slightly hunched back, like three trees side by side, with their roots tangled in the soil.

Liu Chuanjun glanced at the faces of the three people in turn. He saw Li Jianjun patting his chest, Zhang Guilan nodding with a smile, and Wang Jianguo also shaking his head slightly. His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the edge of the teacup, and his knuckles turned lightly blue due to the force.

His throat moved slightly, and he finally relaxed his tightly pursed lips. His fingertips rubbed the thin calluses on the palms of his hands, and he gently placed the enamel pot on the brick table, making a light knocking sound.

"Since everyone trusts me, let's settle this matter."

He tapped the table with his fingers, and when he turned his head, the dirt in the folds behind his ears shook.

"But let me make it clear first, choosing a site is a delicate job, you two——"

He raised his chin and pointed at Wang Jianguo and Zhao Shuzhuo, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes became deep grooves.

"Jianguo, Shuzhuo, do you have any ideas? Tell me first."

Wang Jianguo sat up straight in a hurry, and the patches on the knees of his overalls rubbed against the table legs, making a rustling sound.

He pinched the edge of his helmet with his left hand and turned it twice, then poked his brow with his right fingertips, his eyes drifting towards the wooden window covered with newspapers:

"I... I've only been here for less than a year. I can't even tell whether the low-lying land at the west end of the village is flooded or dry."

He suddenly turned his head to look at Zhao Shuzhuo, his Adam's apple rolling up and down.

"Brother Shuzhuo grew up in Jianye Village. You know much better than me which plot of land faces the sun and which plot of land is sheltered from the wind. How about... can you give me some advice?"

Zhao Shuzhuo sat on a bench, the pipe between his fingers tapping lightly against the patch on his knee, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes still stained with tea foam that had splashed in when he had just spoken.

He raised his eyes to look at Liu Chuanjun, and his cloudy pupils suddenly lit up, as if a small flame was stirred by the wind and jumped up.

He rubbed his rough palms on his thighs, rubbing off a few pieces of cigarette ashes, and then he spoke slowly:

"Director Liu, if we want to manage this brick kiln factory, to put it bluntly, we are dealing with dirt, clods and water."

He tapped his temple with his fingers, and deeper lines appeared on his wrinkled forehead.

"Let's not talk about anything else. Just mixing the mud requires good water. Look at the lowland at the east end of our village. The soil is fertile, but you have to go around two miles to get the water. By the time you get to the end of the field, the sun has dried up the grass."

He suddenly leaned forward, and the stem of his pipe left a shallow mark on the blue brick floor, as if he was sketching a map:

"I went to the reservoir the other day and saw the wasteland below the dam. It was like stepping into cotton wool. When I dug up the loose soil, I could see the damp black mud."