Chapter 1

The radio on the table occasionally emitted a rhythmic clicking noise. No matter how the frequency was adjusted, only a few words could be heard amidst the static.

"Grandpa, is this the radio someone brought for you to fix today? I'll do it, I'll do it!"

Chang Ming rushed forward, his small hands picking up a wrench and tapping it on the radio's casing twice.

The radio was quiet for a few seconds, then the static grew louder.

"Hehe, Xiao Ming, that's not how you do it." A hand rough with calluses took the wrench from Chang Ming, examined the radio, and gently tapped it twice.

The static stopped abruptly, and clear, cheerful music played, like a gentle stream flowing merrily through the room.

Chang Ming's eyes widened. Grandpa patted his head and smiled, "I don't just tap it randomly like you. Before tapping, you need to listen carefully to figure out what's wrong. Is it a loose capacitor pin, too much dust, or a poor connection? Each problem makes a different sound. To fix it, you need to know what the problem is."

Chang Ming's eyes widened even more, "Can you really tell just by listening?"

Grandpa laughed, "Yes, after listening and tapping hundreds of thousands of times, you gradually develop a sense of it."

Sunlight filtered through the window, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air, every detail visible. More clearly, Grandpa's face, with every wrinkle exuding confidence and wisdom, came into view.

That was the confidence and wisdom of an eighth-level technician.

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"Now, why be a worker? Young people today should go to university and join a good company!"

"Don't let Xiao Ming play with those things anymore, make him study hard and get into a good university!"

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Chang Ming woke up from his dream, his eyes snapping open.

The aftereffects of the dream still lingered in his mind, making him a bit disoriented.

It's been a long time since I dreamed about Grandpa. I miss him so much...

It's been ten years since Grandpa passed away. I didn't go to his grave for the past two years, but I must go this year.

Thinking about the last two sentences in the dream, his mood became complicated.

Chang Ming squinted and yawned, looking up at the ceiling.

!!!

Chang Ming's eyes instantly widened!

Wooden beams, thatched roof—where was this place? This was definitely not his shabby dormitory!

Chang Ming sat up and looked around.

The scene before he fell asleep gradually came back to him.

Before he fainted, he was eating noodles in his company dormitory, having finally bought a pound of beef to make beef noodles.

It was about to rain heavily outside, with lightning and thunder. He was cooking the beef in the dormitory, feeling incredibly happy.

After two hours of simmering, the beef was fresh, fragrant, and spicy. Just as he was about to take a bite, a bolt of lightning struck, and he lost consciousness. Before he fainted, he saw the light flicker twice, and a white light flashed before his eyes...

Why did he wake up in a different place?

He had been lying on a rustic bed in a peasant's house, with a light yellow bamboo mat on it. The mat was of high quality, smooth and cool to the touch, clearly a high-end product.

However, the room was very simple.

This was the kind of peasant's house Chang Ming had seen on TV, built with large blue stones, the gaps sealed with clay to prevent water leakage, and a thatched roof supported by wooden beams.

The room was dimly lit, with only a bamboo window on the wall letting in a bit of daylight, barely enough to see the outlines of the furniture. There was very little furniture, mostly made of bamboo, just a cabinet and two chairs.

This is... a peasant's house?

Why am I here?

A glint of silver caught his eye, and Chang Ming reached out to pick up something, which shocked him again.

It was a long, slender metal handle, perfectly fitting his hand. One end bent to form a jaw, with a rotating screw next to it, a wrench that could be adjusted in size. This wrench had clearly been used countless times, its surface polished to a smooth, lustrous finish.

Chang Ming was very familiar with this wrench. Grandpa used it to fix radios, and after Grandpa passed away, it became his keepsake. Grandpa used this wrench all his life, and Chang Ming often held it, missing Grandpa. Now, in this unfamiliar place, how did the wrench come with him?

He picked up the wrench and examined it carefully. Compared to ordinary wrenches, it was more precise, and there was a small mechanism at the back that could be unscrewed, revealing a set of screwdrivers of various sizes.

This was all familiar to Chang Ming, and he found no issues with it.

He gripped the wrench and looked out the window. Through the bamboo window, he could see a bamboo forest swaying in the wind, making a rustling sound. In the distance, he could hear clear laughter and whispers, but they were too far to make out.

The wooden door creaked open, and a little girl peeked in, her dark eyes looking at him. As soon as she met Chang Ming's gaze, she quickly withdrew her head and called out, "Dad, the young man who grew on the bamboo is awake!"

Her voice was sweet, but her words were nonsensical. Grew on the bamboo? Can people grow on bamboo!

A wall, no, a person walked in. Chang Ming immediately felt the room darken.

This person was about two meters tall, extremely muscular, with a full beard. His sudden appearance would surely scare a child. Even Chang Ming couldn't help but grip the wrench in his hand.

The middle-aged man gruffly said, "You're awake—come eat!"

Chang Ming was taken aback and asked, "Where is this place?"

The man honestly replied, "This is Jinzhu Village. Yesterday morning, when we were cutting bamboo on the mountain, we saw you hanging from a tree, so we brought you down. You've been asleep for a day and a night, you must be hungry, come eat!"

Jinzhu Village... I've never heard of this place.

The little girl also entered the room, timidly following the man, peeking at Chang Ming. Both of them were wearing clothes that didn't look modern, with no buttons or zippers, only cloth buttons and ties.

Chang Ming, who had been immersed in the E-era internet, immediately had a thought—

Did I travel through time?

No way!!

He clung to a glimmer of hope and asked, "What is Jinzhu Village?"

The man said, "Jinzhu Village is in the Wild Forest Mountains. I don't know what's outside the mountains! Only the village chief has been outside, oh, and Uncle Ping!"

Chang Ming's head buzzed. Wild Forest Mountains? Another place I've never heard of.

Is this really a time travel?

And it seems to be an unknown world?

Chang Ming's mind was in chaos. He had boasted online about what he would do if he traveled through time, but deep down, he never really thought it would happen. No internet, no toilet, no friends, a completely new world with no connection to his past life—how many people could truly accept it?

He jumped up, pushed the man aside, and rushed out of the room.

Outside the bedroom was a darker hall, with several large basins in the corner. The basins seemed to contain something, emitting a pungent smell.

Chang Ming didn't pay attention, rushing out of the hall and almost tripping over the high threshold. He barely managed to stand steady when a small black shadow, about the height of his knee, charged at him.

This small shadow, though short, had considerable strength. Chang Ming, who wasn't fully steady, was knocked to the ground by it.

The thing continued to charge forward, blocked by Chang Ming, and flailed in his arms.

Chang Ming picked it up and saw it was a bamboo "puppy," very crude. Four bamboo pieces served as limbs, a long and short bamboo tube as the body and head. The head and body were wrapped in a piece of fur, with two small red stones embedded to represent eyes.

This little bamboo dog was similar to the toys he made as a child, even more crude, but the key was that it could move!

Powered by batteries? Where are the batteries?

Chang Ming examined the bamboo dog, flipping it over. It was very light, and by feel, it definitely didn't contain dry batteries.

So, a small lithium battery?

Chang Ming had a great interest in mechanics since childhood. Curiosity overtook him, and he completely forgot his surroundings, focusing on the little bamboo dog.

The man followed Chang Ming out and saw him fall, immediately scolding, "Huzi, Agen, the village chief told you not to play with the mechanical dogs in the village! Look, you hit someone!"

The two children said in a pitiful voice, "We didn't expect it to dart out..."

Chang Ming didn't hear them, unable to find the battery. He thought, "Not electric, maybe a wind-up? But I don't see any gears or bearings..."

The little bamboo dog continued to flail in his arms. The toy was very crudely made, and when Chang Ming's hand slipped, he grabbed the head with one hand and the body with the other, staring in shock.

The bamboo dog fell apart in his hands. He didn't mean to break it, but after it broke, he could see more clearly—there was nothing inside the dog's body, it was completely empty!

Without power, how did it move?

Chang Ming looked up, puzzled, and saw two little faces crumpled in front of him. The two children stood side by side, staring at the broken bamboo dog in his hands, their mouths slowly opening to reveal their missing front teeth. Then they cried out, "My dog, my dog, the bad uncle broke it!"

Chang Ming was stunned, looking at the dog in his hands and the children in front of him, feeling like crying.

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"Mine too, mine too!"

Chang Ming responded, pinching a small knife with his thumb and forefinger, steadily slicing a thin, narrow bamboo strip. He made two cuts at each end, giving the strip a slight twist.

Next, he cut a bamboo stick and made two cuts in the middle of the strip, fitting the stick in perfectly.

His movements looked casual, but each cut was precise, with no unnecessary actions.

Chang Ming twirled the bamboo stick and handed the newly made bamboo helicopter to the child.

The child took the bamboo helicopter and said enviously, "Uncle, your hands are so skilled, maybe you can become a mechanical engineer!"

Chang Ming was taken aback, and the child had already run off.

There were now a dozen children, each holding a bamboo helicopter. They spun the helicopters with their hands, and they flew into the sky, spinning and dancing in the wind, refusing to fall.

The children laughed joyfully, their laughter echoing down the hill, filling the entire village.

A villager passing by smiled, "Young man, you have a good temper. Actually, you don't need to pay attention to the kids when they're being noisy!"

Chang Ming accidentally broke the bamboo dog, making the two children cry. He spent a long time comforting them and finally made bamboo helicopters as compensation. Children have short memories; they forgot about the dog as soon as they saw the helicopters, their tears still on their faces as they looked up and laughed.

Good temper...

Chang Ming remembered Grandpa's words: "You're a stubborn donkey! You're fine until someone provokes you, then you kick them!"

In this world, the person who knew and loved him the most was Grandpa, who had passed away many years ago.

Chang Ming smiled nostalgically, looking down the hill, taking in the entire village.

Now he was absolutely certain that he had indeed traveled through time. He had entered a completely different new world from the one he knew before!

He could confirm this immediately because of the strange tools he saw everywhere in the village.

For example, when the villagers were making something that required constant stirring, a metal mechanical arm was fixed to the wall, its bent part continuously stirring in the basin.

On the other side, there were two metal arms, one with a stone attached and the other with a bamboo thread. They moved up and down, continuously rubbing against each other.

These were small gadgets, not enough to surprise Chang Ming—though, like the bamboo dog he broke, he couldn't figure out their power source.

What shocked Chang Ming the most was that a huge shadow had recently passed through the sky, a ship! A ship about a hundred meters long, with a mast and anchor, and three white sails! The white sails reflected the sunlight, creating a half-light, half-shadow effect, like layers of clouds, quietly and swiftly carrying the giant ship over the village, disappearing into the clouds.

How did such a large ship fly? What was its power source?

The villagers, however, said it was normal: "Oh, it's the mechanical ferry. It passes by every day at this time. One in the morning, one in the evening, very punctual!"

Mechanical... Yes, the ship flying through the sky was called a mechanical ferry, and the tools he saw were also called mechanical devices.

Not only that, but the process of grinding bamboo threads and stirring the liquid in which they were soaked was to make a type of bamboo thread called "shattered gold thread." Jinzhu Village was named after the shattered gold bamboo, and the "shattered gold thread" made from it was also a material used to make mechanical devices.

Mechanical... What exactly are mechanical devices?

The village chief said that mechanical devices were made by a profession called mechanical engineers, and they were quite expensive. The village mainly used them to assist in work, while in the city, mechanical devices were widely used in all aspects of life.

For some reason, most mechanical devices could not be mass-produced but had to be handmade by mechanical engineers. Therefore, the status of mechanical engineers was very high, and everyone wanted to become one.

In a sense, this world belonged to mechanical engineers!

Handmade mechanical devices...

A world belonging to mechanical engineers...

Chang Ming unconsciously rubbed the wrench in his hand, recalling the past.

Chang Ming's grandpa was an eighth-level technician, the person he admired the most.

Even before Chang Ming knew what an eighth-level technician represented, he was already amazed and awed by the abilities of an eighth-level technician.

Chang Ming's parents were often away on business, and he grew up with his grandpa.

Grandpa's incredible skills, confident demeanor, and the respect others showed him gradually set a goal in Chang Ming's heart—

When I grow up, I want to be a worker, a great eighth-level technician!

With this goal, Chang Ming followed Grandpa's arrangements and trained in various ways from a young age.

While other children were running around the mountains, Chang Ming was training with files, wrenches, rulers, and various tools. This made him a "freak" in the eyes of his classmates, never fitting in, never playing with them, just a "wooden madman"!

No matter when, he always had a piece of wood, constantly carving, filing, and polishing, never creating anything specific.

He thought he would continue like this until he became like Grandpa one day. But an event in junior high school completely changed his life.

One day in junior high, Chang Ming came home from school. It was a sunny spring day, and the warm sun made him feel very happy.

He tightly clutched the award in his hand—today, he had won the city-wide junior high school robotics competition! Thinking about the efforts Grandpa had put in with him before the competition, he couldn't wait to tell Grandpa the news.

As he approached the door, he heard a heated argument inside. Chang Ming shivered and quietly hid behind the door.

No, it wasn't an argument, just one-sided scolding. Chang Ming's mother was blaming Grandpa for letting Chang Ming play with these things, neglecting his studies.

Grandpa angrily said, "You're the daughter of a worker, these are basic skills for workers! Everyone should know them!"

Mother said, "Dad, your thinking is outdated! Now, young people should go to university and join a good company!"

Grandpa said, "Nonsense, we are still a developing country, industry is crucial. How can we not need workers? Listen to me, Xiao Ming should be a worker, a good worker!"

Mother said impatiently, "Dad, you can't understand! Just listen to me, I'm his mother, I won't harm him. Don't let Xiao Ming play with those things anymore, make him study hard and get into a good university!"

Chang Ming hid in the corner, seeing Grandpa's side face. He was still arguing, but his eyes no longer had the confidence and determination they once had, filled with deep helplessness.

Chang Ming realized for the first time that Grandpa was old, his face etched with the marks of time.

Chang Ming quietly left the house, sitting on the concrete platform outside, looking up at the sky.

The sun was setting, the red light spreading across the yard. Chang Ming noticed that the houses and walls of the state-owned factory were somewhat dilapidated, showing signs of decay.

After that, Grandpa indeed let go, allowing Chang Ming's mother to take full charge of his studies.

Mother no longer let Chang Ming touch any tools, keeping him at his desk all day, studying and studying. Chang Ming wasn't stupid, but his foundation was weak, and he only managed to get into a mediocre high school, and later a third-rate university.

He always harbored a small dream, never giving up his practice no matter how busy his studies were.

When I grow up, I can do whatever I want, right?

But by the time he graduated, skilled workers had indeed become a sought-after profession, but the era of old-style craftsmen had long passed, replaced by precision CNC machines and cheap assembly lines...

Grandpa, did you bring me to this world?

What do you want to tell me?

The children were running around the hill, their small bamboo helicopters flying in the wind, their joyful laughter echoing in the air.

The sky was incredibly blue, not a cloud in sight, clear like a huge gem.

On the mountain path, sturdy villagers carried thick bamboo poles, shouting in unison, taking slow and steady steps down the hill.

The bamboo poles and leaves were a beautiful green with golden patterns. This was the shattered gold bamboo, covering the hills behind the village.

The sunlight shone on the shattered gold bamboo, the golden patterns blinding Chang Ming's eyes.

His eyes stung, and memories flooded his mind, all of Grandpa teaching him and training his skills.

Finally, those memories faded, and Chang Ming's