At 3:17 in the afternoon, the ceiling fan in the third production workshop of Jiangcheng Copper Art Group was whirring, blowing hot air mixed with the smell of copper shavings and engine oil all over the workshop. Gan Yonglan was wearing thin non-slip gloves and holding a vernier caliper on his fingertips. He was leaning over the workbench and staring at the newly formed "antique bronze jue". The sunlight filtered through the dusty high window, casting a line between light and dark on the side of his face. The thin-framed glasses on the bridge of his nose slid to the tip of his nose, but he had no time to hold it up - the reading from the caliper made him frown slightly.
"Yonglan, how are you? Can you deliver this batch of work on time?" The loud voice of the workshop director Lao Zhou came from the door, holding a wrinkled production sheet in his hand. "Party A pressed hard, saying that this is a replica of the exhibit for the museum, and it will not be even a millimeter off."
