Chapter 919 – The Workers

After the workers' formation disbanded, some ran back into the workshop to retrieve their wooden or ceramic eating utensils, then lined up at the small table. Others waited by the door. Before long, a rumbling sound announced the workshop supervisor and a few others pushing a cart back. Those waiting at the door quickly crowded around, watching the supervisor produce a key and unlock a large bamboo cage on the cart. From inside, he handed out lunch boxes to the people gathered around. As soon as workers received their boxes, they too joined the line at the small table.

The meal delivery was actually handled by workers from a restaurant in Dongmen Market. The optical workshop's naturalized workers were on a subsidized meal plan. Each month they selected a supplier—either a cafeteria run by the industrial district or a restaurant in Dongmen Market certified by the Civil Affairs Commissar. The supplier was responsible for providing all workers with their nighttime meals for that month. Generally, unmarried workers chose full board for convenience. Married workers purchased only the dishes; they brought their own rice to be steamed in the factory's steam cabinet. This wasn't much trouble—at the start of the shift, rice containers with rice and water were placed in the optical workshop's dedicated cage inside the steam cabinet. The supervisor locked it; at the proper time, someone was responsible for opening the valve to let industrial steam into the steam cabinet, and the rice was quickly cooked.

Lin Hanlong looked at today's dishes. As usual, meat was supposed to be served every day. When the delivery worker saw him approach, he stood at attention and said respectfully: "Chief Lin! Today's delivery is fish with bean curd and stir-fried carrot shreds. The soup is seafood miscellany. We've also brought some refreshing pickles—a complimentary gift from our establishment."

Lin Hanlong saw that one dish pot looked reddish—it did seem like tofu and fish fillet. He picked up a ladle, stirred around the pot to confirm the ratio of fish to tofu, then nodded. Fish fillets were common now. Ever since they'd had the coal-gas cold storage and built the fish processing plant, every fishing season they bought freely from individual fishermen, stockpiling plenty. The cold storage periodically cleared out older stock to make room for new. Needless to say, these clearance goods were enthusiastically welcomed by native people and food-service operators alike.

Lin Hanlong then examined the carrot shreds in the other pot—glistening with oil under the lamplight, quite appetizing. This dish was "Australian cuisine"—locals hadn't had the habit of eating carrots in the past; they hadn't even grown them. It wasn't until Wu Nanhai established the agricultural estate that large-scale cultivation began, to increase vitamin A supply. Carrot dishes were promoted among naturalized citizens.

This time, Lin Hanlong gave a cold laugh but said nothing. The delivery worker smiled awkwardly, his expression uncomfortable. These little tricks couldn't fool Lin Hanlong: this so-called oil-fried carrot shreds had definitely been "fried" by boiling in salted water, then having oil added and tossed after cooling down. This way the oil only coated the surface of the carrot shreds without penetrating the vegetable, making it look oily and appetizing—a common money-saving trick used by cafeterias and fast-food operations.

He tapped the tin barrel containing the carrot shreds, shook his head at the worker, and walked away without a word.

He heard someone behind him whisper: Your Chief really treats you all well. He didn't turn back, walking straight into the workshop. A bitter smile crossed his face. Carrots were rich in vitamin A—essential nutrition for precision workers who needed good eyesight. But the vitamin A in carrots was fat-soluble; these "surface-oiled" carrot shreds had greatly reduced nutritional value.

In truth, he was the only one who truly cared about the workers' meals. The workers themselves didn't pay much attention to food quality; as long as they could fill up on brown rice, that was good enough. Dishes were just for making the rice go down. Even if they were served pickles every day, the workers would be satisfied.

Lin Hanlong's reason for caring about meals was simple: people in this era were generally malnourished and often lacked stamina when precision work requiring prolonged concentration was needed. Especially in the optical workshop with its night shifts—lighting wasn't as good as daytime, and many workers couldn't see their workpieces clearly. Lin Hanlong could increase workshop lighting, but that would consume precious coal gas and increase fire hazards. So he'd rather pay to have his workers eat better.

The problem was his funds were limited; he couldn't fully cover their meals. So he'd devised a subsidy scheme: workers pooled together for group meals, and he matched their contributions one-to-one. This improved things somewhat. But the cafeteria didn't have the manpower to guarantee timely delivery—the Science and Technology Department was too far from all the cafeterias in the industrial district; round-trip meal times were too long. Outside vendors, meanwhile, were interested only in maximizing profit. Although Lin Hanlong personally drafted menus—like that oil-fried carrot dish—the vendors always found ways to cut corners. He knew some things couldn't be micromanaged, but next time this happened, he'd have to consider changing suppliers.

Lin Hanlong walked a few steps, then turned to tell his apprentice following behind to heat up his dinner. Seeing the apprentice nod, he entered his office, went around to a locked door in back, opened it, and entered a small compartment that was his alone. He closed the door. The compartment held several professional books he'd brought, large quantities of draft paper, and a laptop computer. This ruggedized Panasonic Toughbook had been purchased specifically for the transmigration and had run without a single problem for several years. But to be safe, Lin Hanlong had removed the battery for separate storage and instead used a simple rectifier UPS powered by city power and a lead-acid battery bank under the desk.

He turned on the computer and waited; Ubuntu Linux booted quickly. Without input from him, the computer automatically opened the transmigrators' internal forum and video-on-demand server. Lin Hanlong had no time now to review the films they'd brought; he just skimmed the forum. As usual, several active—or rather loud-mouthed—IDs had posted a bunch of sensible and nonsensical proposals. A bunch of people had replied; flame wars had erupted; there was plenty of idle chat, venting, and grumbling. Lin Hanlong skimmed through, replied briefly to a few threads, then closed the forum page. He then opened a terminal and connected to the transmigrators' computation server.

His apprentice knocked on the compartment door to say his meal was heated. He opened the door, took the food, and went back to the computer. Logging into the "National Computing Service Center" with his ID and authorization codes, he ran several programs, and graphs and charts began appearing on screen. Lin Hanlong ate the "lunch" his maid had prepared and his apprentice had reheated, while studying these charts. This was part of Lin Hanlong's work. He took advantage of the relatively idle time on the main computation server at night to run large-scale design software brought from before the transmigration, analyzing and optimizing various optical designs.

The Senate's computation server was built from an X86 architecture array—after all, purchasing minicomputers or mid-scale machines in the old timeline wasn't easy, and money was only one factor. By comparison, an array computation server built from X86 systems was structurally simple and functionally adequate.

Lin Hanlong didn't know where the main computation server's machine room was, though it was probably somewhere inside Bairren City—the transmigrators' communication lines weren't abundant enough to set up a machine room in the Gaoshan Ridge area.

This "National Computing Service Center" provided large-scale computation services to all departments. Because so many departments needed computation time, they had to use a queued reservation system. But few people used the system in the middle of the night, so Lin Hanlong always used the computation services during his late hours.

What he was doing now was using Monte Carlo methods to study how various design options tolerated manufacturing tolerances and temperature changes. Given the primitive nature of Lingao's optical production and the difficulty of quality control, Lin Hanlong felt it necessary to start from the design side—maintaining a certain level of precision while maximizing tolerance for production errors. While the computers they'd brought still functioned, he planned to analyze as many common optical system configurations as possible, then compile the results into elaborate tables for printing. After the computers failed, these tables would serve as the basis for producing "optical design handbooks" usable even by naturalized citizens.

Studying the computer's output, Lin Hanlong nodded with satisfaction. He'd brought quite a few optical professional books when transmigrating, and the Grand Library had some relevant materials too. Over these days, he'd run extensive simulations on the classic designs described in several handbooks, and felt his understanding of these designs had greatly deepened. The optical instruments the transmigrators needed at this stage were essentially just a few types; those requiring mass production were even fewer. He felt his current level was more than adequate. Once he'd collected all the data he needed, designing more demanding products wouldn't be too difficult either.

Of course, being able to design didn't mean he could reliably manufacture. At this thought, Lin Hanlong sighed again. Setting up the entire production process was hard; teaching illiterate-origin naturalized workers hands-on was even harder. Before they could work independently and perform basic operations on their own, at least one or two years would pass. Lin Hanlong didn't consider himself a patient person, but if he didn't want to work himself to death, he had no choice but to patiently teach.

Outside, noise gradually increased. Workers had finished eating and were trickling back into the workshop. It wasn't yet time to start work; many sat or stood, gathered in groups, chatting casually. Some squatted outside in the smoking area, smoking and drinking tea. Lin Hanlong checked his computer; it was about time. He got up, opened the door, called his apprentice and several supervisors over, and together they inspected the work completed earlier. Seeing that workpiece quality was acceptable, he gave instructions on several points needing adjustment and had his apprentice note them down. Then he returned to the computer room.

He minimized the simulation window and opened SolidWorks. An image of a marine sextant appeared on screen. This was a collaborative project with several mechanical-focused transmigrators, with Lin Hanlong as lead and the others assisting. It was an important R&D project proposed by the Navy. Like marine chronometers, sextants were critical equipment for determining latitude and longitude on long voyages, of great significance to the Navy and shipping departments.

The sextant on screen was already complete. Optical path simulation showed no problems; mechanical issues had been corrected. All that remained was final confirmation of how to make the graduated scale, and then a physical prototype could be built.

From outside came two bell strikes—the workshop supervisor's signal that work was resuming. Lin Hanlong didn't move, just listened to the sounds outside. After months here, he was familiar with the noise of each machine in operation; just by listening carefully, he could tell a machine's status. He didn't need to appear personally—he could assess the natives' actual skill level from here. Tonight seemed lucky; every machine sounded like it was running normally. He turned his attention back to the computer.

Time at the computer always flew. By the time he'd reviewed the sextant design and uploaded the files to his collaborators, over an hour had passed. He shut down the computer, picked up his lunch box, and emerged from the small room, locking the door behind him. His apprentice was at his own desk in the outer office, reading.

Lin Hanlong looked at the book's contents—an elementary mathematics textbook compiled by the transmigrators.

"Junjie," the apprentice looked up at him. "Note down in the handover for day shift: the belt on Number 2 grinder needs inspection."

The apprentice nodded quickly. "Yes! Master, I also thought the sound wasn't quite right. Seems like some rivets have loosened."

Lin Hanlong grunted, then extended his hand. "Have you finished your physics homework?" Over the past year or so, he'd taught his apprentice basic arithmetic and had him attend school to learn over a thousand Chinese characters. After the optical plant switched to night shift, the apprentice worked the evening shift with him every day. So Lin Hanlong arranged for him to attend the first two classes each morning, primarily middle and junior high school math and science. When time permitted, Lin Hanlong gave him supplementary lessons.

Recently, he'd supervised the revision of Elementary Optics for external distribution, managing to analyze several optical instruments already in embryonic form in this timeline using junior-high-level convex and concave lens principles. His apprentice had naturally become the book's first reader. Because of daily exposure and a foundation in math and science, the apprentice had more or less understood the book. But Lin Hanlong privately believed that even if the book was distributed, at most it would leave readers befuddled—without junior-high math, the calculations were very hard to follow. His apprentice's level already far surpassed any native of this era.

Lin Hanlong quickly reviewed his apprentice's homework, marking it with ticks and crosses, circling key points.

"Here, and here—I see you still don't quite understand. I'll explain after we're off." He looked up and turned. "Also, those glass jars on my desk—take two home. Remember to return the jars."

"Master!" the apprentice exclaimed. "I can't accept that!" The jars were "prototypes" that Wu Nanhai had sent over—Tianchu Food Factory's trial glass-canned fried dace, quite similar to the classic canned product that endured for generations in the old timeline.

The apprentice knew this was "ultra-premium food" only transmigrators could enjoy. Never mind naturalized apprentices—even the wealthy masters in Dongmen Market who didn't know what to do with their money couldn't buy it.

Lin Hanlong glared. "Take it if I tell you to. One jar for you, one for your brother. Eat well so you have energy to study. Understand? And bring your brother's math and physics homework tomorrow for me to look at." Cai Junjie's younger brother, Cai Si, was a full-time student at Fangtao Di and doing very well. He'd completed internships at the optical plant several times. Lin Hanlong thought he had good aptitude and intended to cultivate him as an optical industry technician.

"Yes, I'll bring them tomorrow night."

Lin Hanlong waved his hand. "Put on your jacket. We're going on patrol."

By a little after 3 AM, the workpieces on each grinder had completed their current processes. Lin Hanlong watched the workers use Lingao-made knife-edge measuring rings to check the curvature radius of each workpiece. The grinding-machine crew worked in pairs—one reading numbers, one recording. After one finished, they switched roles and repeated the measurements. When they were done, Lin Hanlong spot-checked a few himself. Seeing no problems, he had them sign off. Shortly after, someone brought over several boxes—newly assembled telescopes from the assembly workshop. Lin Hanlong randomly picked one and peered through it at the calibration chart on the wall, then handed the telescope to his apprentice for detailed acceptance inspection.

Dawn was already visible on the horizon. The grinding crew had brooms and rags, cleaning up their areas. The machine crew was busy oiling and maintaining equipment. Lin Hanlong held a cup of strong tea, yawning as he watched the remaining workers do the final tidying. At six o'clock, the optical workshop's day officially ended. Following the 4S standards Lin Hanlong had established, workers stored all workpieces in designated cabinets, set machinery to shutdown state, and placed all supplies in assigned locations. Lin Hanlong dispensed with a pep talk; after assembly, he dismissed them to go home.

"Junjie, what's on my schedule this morning?" After leading the supervisors on a final patrol through the empty workshop, Lin Hanlong had them lock the doors while he asked.

"Master! After the 8 AM morning briefing, there's a meeting with Chief Zhan from 8:30 to 9. Would you like to go home first to eat and rest a bit?" The apprentice walking beside Lin Hanlong reminded him.

Lin Hanlong nodded. Soon the group of three exited the optical plant gate and walked along the factory district streets. Daylight was full; workers coming off shift and going on shift were already numerous. Fortunately, the weather was still cool—walking was quite pleasant. He planned to eat a bit when he got home, then take a short nap. The optical workshop's night was over; his own day hadn't even finished yet.