What Kind of Move Is This?

The next day.

Fang Bai woke up early, first reviewing the knowledge points he had memorized the night before to reinforce his memory, then got up to brush his teeth and wash his face, went out to buy breakfast, and began studying.

At nine in the morning, he left the house, rode his bike around the neighborhood near his rental, and finally found a machinery equipment repair shop.

The owner was also the repair technician, named Chen Fumin, around 40 years old, with bearing disassembly tools in his own shop.

Fang Bai explained the problem clearly, and Master Chen said he'd need to see the item first to know if it could be fixed.

A few minutes later, Fang Bai brought Master Chen to the shop, opened the door, and pointed at the Morse Taper No. 5 Spindle on the floor. "Master Chen, can you remove these bearings? Don't damage the spindle. There'll be plenty of this kind of work in the future—if you do a good job, I'll come to you exclusively."

Master Chen glanced at the spindle, brimming with confidence. "Boss, no problem. I take apart and install bearings all the time. I guarantee I won't damage the spindle."

"If it can be fixed, plus replacing the new bearings, how much will the repair cost?"

"The bearings are tricky to remove, and installing them is a hassle. I'll have to heat-oil soak the bearings. Does that include putting the spindle back together?"

Fang Bai thought it over—not having to do it himself was for the best, saving him from getting dirty. "Go ahead and do it all."

"That'll probably take most of the day. Fifteen bucks."

"Fine."

Fang Bai handed him a cigarette. Running his own shop to make money was bound to pay better than working for someone else.

Seeing the deal was done, Master Chen took the cigarette with a smile. "Alright, I'll head back to grab some tools and heat up the oil. It'll take a little while."

Over twenty minutes later, Master Chen returned, his tricycle loaded with extra tools and half a bucket of hot oil.

Fang Bai had nothing to do, so he grabbed a stool and sat nearby without lifting a hand, watching how the replacement was done, occasionally flipping through his English book to memorize vocabulary.

Master Chen first soaked the new bearings in the hot oil, then took a homemade bearing puller off the tricycle. He inserted three pull rods into the inner ring of the bearings, rotated them 180 degrees to lock them in place. The tool had a bolt that connected to the spindle's threaded hole, and after securing the frame, the operation was similar to a wine corkscrew, slowly pulling the bearings off the spindle bit by bit.

About twenty minutes later, several bearings were removed.

Next, after cleaning the spindle, he started replacing the bearings. He used the hot-fit method to install them onto the spindle, based on the principle of thermal expansion and contraction. Since the bearings and spindle fit without any gap, heating the bearings expanded the rings, making it easy to slide them onto the spindle.

The hot oil Master Chen brought was for soaking the bearings; by the time he finished removing the old ones, the new bearings were heated enough. The temperature couldn't be too high, or the bearings would deform and become unusable.

Hot-fitting the bearings was much easier than removing them—it took just over ten minutes to replace all five bearings.

Fang Bai watched Master Chen's practiced moves and logical workflow, knowing he did this kind of work often.

The reassembly was simple, finished in another ten-plus minutes. Fang Bai used his Golden Finger to check, and the display showed the spindle bearings were green, indicating no issues.

He powered it on and started it up—no problems.

"Master Chen, thanks for the hard work. I'll call you if there's more work."

Fang Bai pulled out two bills and handed them over, then slipped him a pack of cigarettes, which made Master Chen a bit embarrassed.

Master Chen said politely, "You're too kind, boss. Just say the word if you need anything."

"Alright, maybe I'll be reaching out in a few days." Fang Bai had an idea, but he wanted to deal with the current equipment first before discussing it further.

Master Chen maintained a lot of equipment and dealt with plenty of bosses, so he likely had plenty of relevant information.

"Sure, sure."

"Master Chen, are you familiar with used machine tools? Something like this one, if it had no issues, what would it be worth?"

"I know a bit. Let me check it first."

Master Chen looked over the equipment, then ran it through some basic operations to get a sense of its performance.

A few minutes later, he finished the inspection. "Between ten and thirteen thousand, depending on how urgently the buyer needs it."

Thanks to the pack of cigarettes, Master Chen was honest, and he didn't have the capital to buy it himself anyway.

Fang Bai nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."

"Are you planning to sell it, boss?"

"I'm considering it. Depends on the offer. If you have connections and sell it, I'll give you a one percent referral fee, but only within the next two days."

Master Chen paused, sensing there was money to be made, and also found that Fang Bai, a young man, paid promptly. "Alright, I'll bring a boss over this afternoon to take a look."

"Sounds good. My name's Fang Bai. I'll be at the shop in the afternoon," Fang Bai said.

At 2:30 PM, Master Chen did bring a middle-aged man to check out the equipment. After looking it over, he only offered ten thousand yuan. Fang Bai didn't sell, saying he'd think about it.

At 5:00 PM, Master Chen brought another boss over, who offered eleven thousand yuan.

That price was a bit off from Fang Bai's target, but still acceptable. He shook hands with the customer to probe his info, detecting that the highest acceptable price was twelve thousand, but the buyer wanted to shop around more. Plus, the down payment was only six thousand, with the balance to be paid after using it for a while with no issues—Fang Bai naturally wouldn't accept that payment method.

Master Chen's clients were all small workshop owners with limited funds who drove a hard bargain.

Fang Bai quoted twelve thousand, demanding a one-time payment.

Time was money, and faster cash flow meant bigger profits—Fang Bai understood that well. He planned to visit Wang Hengli tomorrow to see if he'd ordered new equipment yet. If not, there was still a chance.

Of course, it also depended on how much Wang Hengli was willing to pay. If the offer was too low, he wouldn't sell.

The next day, at nine in the morning.

Fang Bai arrived at Hengli Company and sought out Wang Hengli again. He shook hands with him first to break the ice, then sat across from him and asked directly:

"Manager Wang, you haven't bought a new drill press yet, have you?"

"Not yet. I'll have to wait a month or so—it's really a headache." Wang Hengli's plump body sank into the sofa like a worried Maitreya Buddha.

"Have you put down a deposit?"

"In a couple of days."

Fang Bai clapped his hands in surprise: "Ah, then I came at just the right time!

The equipment I bought from you the other day—I had someone replace the main parts, and it's finally fixed, almost as good as new.

I was about to sell it to someone else, but it just occurred to me that you've been struggling with production capacity lately, and what you're missing is a drill press."

"You fixed that drill press? That fast?"

"Yes, not a single problem left. Are you interested, or should I sell it to someone else?"

Wang Hengli's mind didn't turn over right away. He'd sold the equipment the day before yesterday, and now the guy had fixed it and was selling it back to him—what kind of shady move was this?

He sat up seriously and took another look at Fang Bai, who was sipping tea with a smile. He felt like he'd been played.

Of course, in other words, he wasn't completely opposed to it. Buying new equipment would cost twenty to thirty thousand, and the main issue was the wait. He'd also checked the secondhand market these past two days and hadn't found anything suitable.

After hesitating for a moment, he said to Fang Bai: "Let's take a look first. Where's the equipment?"

Fang Bai replied: "Right next to Oubei No. 1 Middle School."

"You said it was nearby the other day."

Wang Hengli suddenly remembered what Fang Bai had said two days ago—telling the forklift driver to deliver the equipment, saying it wasn't far, just nearby. He'd thought it was within three or four hundred meters of his own company.

What the hell was "nearby" about that? It was two or three kilometers away.

At that thought, he frowned.

Fang Bai knew Wang Hengli was annoyed, so he grinned shamelessly: "I wasn't wrong—it is nearby. I ride my bike and it's just a little while, not like it's dozens of kilometers away."

Wang Hengli rolled his eyes at the ceiling, speechless.

After a brief silence, feeling a bit helpless, he slapped his thigh and stood up: "Let's go, then."

The two left the office. Wang Hengli went to the workshop and called Ma Jingsen and a drill operator, telling them to bring some steel plates and calipers to test the equipment.

When Ma Jingsen and the drill operator saw Fang Bai, they realized the equipment they were testing was the drill press the company had sold two days ago—supposedly fixed now.

The two were stunned.

But they couldn't say much. They loaded the plates into the boss's trunk and got into his Pusang sedan to head out.

Fang Bai led the way on his bike, pedaling hard.

Ma Jingsen sat in the passenger seat, watching Fang Bai pedal away cheerfully, and felt a complicated mix of emotions: What kind of game was this?

What kind of move was that?

Buying back the equipment, fixing it, and selling it to the original boss—Ma Jingsen felt he didn't have that thick a skin.

On one hand, he hoped Fang Bai wouldn't make much money; on the other, he hoped the equipment was actually fixed, so they could solve their production problems soon. It had been driving him crazy lately.