"All of it... all of it is ruined..."
Jiang Zhou's voice sounded like it had been scraped by sandpaper, hoarse and filled with despair.
His legs gave way and he crouched on the ground, clutching his hair tightly with both hands.
The blonde-haired, blue-eyed German expert came over and picked up a picture tube.
He took just one look and shook his head heavily.
Looking at the workers' expectant faces, he uttered a final judgment in stilted Chinese.
"Oxidation, corrosion."
"No, it's beyond saving."
"All of it, scrapped."
Boom.
It was like a thunderbolt striking the heads of every worker at the color TV factory.
The flame of hope, just ignited, was doused from head to toe by a basin of ice water.
Finished.
Parts purchased with millions in foreign currency turned into mere scrap metal.
The dream of the color TV factory shattered.
"Ugh..."
Jiang Zhou could no longer hold it in. He cried loudly like a child, clutching those cold parts.
A dead silence surrounded them.
