Chapter 76: Is There Something Wrong?

When Zhao Guoyang arrived at Liang Hongjun’s office, Minister Liang was sitting at his desk, lost in thought as he stared at a slip of paper in his hand.

On that slip were the contact details of the venerable Mr. Li Kejian.

Before departing, Mr. Li had handed the note to Liang Hongjun, instructing him to get in touch immediately once he found the person in question.

After seeing Mr. Li off, Liang Hongjun promptly summoned Wang Hongxi to his office, asking him to check the list of visitors at the factory for the day.

Wang Hongxi was Liang Hongjun’s trusted aide, steady and reliable in his work. With him handling the matter, Liang felt reassured.

At this moment, Liang’s emotions were still swaying between excitement and anxiety. During the inspection with Mr. Li, he had noticed those directors on the board—ones who rarely regarded him with favor—casting envious glances his way.

Li had raised several technical questions, all of which Liang answered, if not perfectly, at least well enough to merit an eighty out of a hundred by his own reckoning.

At the end of the inspection, Chairman Ma Guoqiang patted Liang’s shoulder with satisfaction, reminding him not to forget tomorrow’s executive meeting.

The implication was clear, and the board members could surely guess at its meaning.

Liang Hongjun had never expected that a visit from a central leader would present him with such a tremendous opportunity—a leap from middle management into the upper echelons.

As he pondered these thoughts, Liang found himself secretly grateful for the young man Mr. Li had mentioned. If not for his appearance, Mr. Li would not have singled Liang out for the inspection, and none of these subsequent events would have unfolded.

Just then, Zhao Guoyang, arriving in haste, knocked gently at the door and called out, “Minister Liang!”

But Liang seemed not to hear, still lost in his reverie.

Observing him in this distracted state, Zhao Guoyang couldn’t help but smile—so even someone like Minister Liang could become absent-minded.

Unable to resist, Zhao cleared his throat and raised his voice, finally startling Liang Hongjun out of his trance.

“Ah, Guoyang, you’re here!” Liang said, embarrassed, as he saw Zhao. “Sorry, I was just deep in thought about something, and got carried away.”

Zhao replied easily, “No problem. Maybe my timing was unfortunate and I disturbed you.”

Liang was amused by Zhao’s words, laughing as he slipped the note back into his pocket. He rose and said, “Guoyang, we’re all familiar here, no need for formalities. Come, let’s take a look at your factory’s chassis!”

Zhao Guoyang was more than happy to oblige—the sooner the chassis matter was settled, the sooner he could carve out some time to consult Bai Rou about his own workshop affairs.

Following Liang to the inspection department, Zhao saw Station Chief Xiao standing before the imported German desktop Rockwell hardness tester, shaking his head repeatedly.

Beside him, placed on the instrument, was the C100 chassis from his own factory.

“Hm, this isn’t right... something’s off…” Chief Xiao muttered, staring at the instrument’s readout.

Seeing him so deep in thought, Liang called out loudly, “Hey, Xiao, what’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

Hearing the voice, Chief Xiao quickly turned around. Seeing Liang, and then Zhao Guoyang beside him, he seemed at a loss for how to begin.

Liang didn’t understand, but Zhao did. His keen eyesight had already caught the data on the report: QSTE380TM material. He immediately understood.

It seemed Chief Xiao, judging by the blueprint, had found a problem with the material used for the chassis, but seeing Zhao and Liang’s close relationship, was hesitant to speak out, fearing resentment.

Realizing this, Zhao Guoyang spoke calmly, “Chief Xiao, is it that the main column weld and the main beam bend on this C100 chassis don’t match your inspection blueprints?”

Chief Xiao, hearing Zhao’s tone, knew he was well aware of the situation and chose not to conceal it further.

“Director Zhao, you’re right, that’s exactly the case,” Chief Xiao said, handing the report to Liang Hongjun.

“Minister Liang, please see: the main column weld and the main beam bend on Hongda Machinery’s C100 chassis were tested as QSTE380TM.”

“And previously, Shunxin Machinery used Q345 for this section. I compared the blueprints and found ours specify standard Q345. Isn’t that a bit problematic…”

After Chief Xiao’s report, Liang couldn’t help but smile, turning to Zhao Guoyang, “Director Zhao, your Hongda Machinery is really something—using the pricier QSTE380TM instead of Q345? I’m not sure what to say.”

Liang Hongjun naturally knew the difference between QSTE380TM and Q345.

In terms of strength and toughness, QSTE380TM was clearly superior; replacing Q345 posed no technical issue.

But in terms of cost, QSTE380TM was at least thirty percent more expensive than Q345.

Usually, chassis manufacturers, tempted by savings, would substitute Q235 for Q335 in less critical parts—a common occurrence that Liang had encountered many times.

Yet Zhao Guoyang and Hongda Machinery had chosen to use a better material—something Liang had never seen in all his years.

Liang’s half-joking skepticism didn’t trouble Zhao.

He stepped forward, patted his factory’s chassis, and turned to Liang, “Minister Liang, last time I visited, you mentioned that once the C100 curved-beam vehicle launches, you’ll focus on expanding the Southeast Asian and Latin American markets. So, this model is meant for export, correct?”

Liang, caught off guard, instinctively nodded, “That’s right. The C100 model has completed all trials, and most data is in hand.”

“We estimate this vehicle’s performance and manufacturing process are highly competitive among similar international products. As long as the price isn’t too high, breaking into secondary markets like Southeast Asia and Latin America shouldn’t be difficult.”

As Liang spoke, Chief Xiao stood by, puzzled—unsure why the minister was discussing so much with this supplier.

Zhao Guoyang smiled at Liang’s explanation, “Minister Liang, if your factory’s vehicle is only going to Southeast Asia, our modification is pointless—it just raises costs. But if you’re targeting Latin America as well, then our change becomes very necessary.”

Liang Hongjun was struck by this, suddenly recalling something, and paused mid-sentence.