Snowfall clears at Yinuowei, a poetic factory scene

         The snow in March is the brush with which heaven and earth paint, scattering a scroll of plain white across the land of Qilu. Pushing open the window at dawn, one sees the Yinuowei factory area like a newly mounted snow-white scroll; pine branches gather jade-like snow, eaves drip crystals, and through the winding corridors, suddenly the glass curtain wall of the new R&D building reflects the clear light, as if an ice mirror has just opened

        Stepping into the garden through the snow, the cherry grove is still wrapped in plain white silk, yet a subtle fragrance already wafts. It turns out to be the crabapple's gnarled branches adorned with snow, harmonizing from afar with the golden stamens of the winter plum blossoms studded with snow. The crape myrtle has shed its splendor, revealing its bronze-colored sinews as it bows its head, creating a distant metallic charm with the silver-gray dome of the new workshop

        Most beautiful are the graceful magnolias, their unopened buds encased in ice, like a brush soaking in a brush washer, waiting only for the spring breeze to moisten the tip, ready to write a full tree of splendor. The verdant big-leaf privet emerges half-covered from the snowdrifts, and the newly painted epoxy floor becomes even more azure in the snow's hue. Suddenly, a clear sound is heard; it's the melting snow dripping from the eaves, tapping out a clear zither-like melody in the cherry garden's landscape pond

Snow presses down on the papaya branches, making their iron-like trunks and bronze-like branches appear even more vigorous. Yinuowei youth, in neat uniforms, tread through the snow, their boot prints intermingling with bird tracks, startling a few grey magpies. They flap past the dome of the new workshop, paved with solar panels, their wingtips scattering snowflakes like stardust

       "The jade tower freezes, sending shivers down one's spine; light shakes the silver sea, making eyes see flowers." Su Dongpo's lines on snow find new meaning here—the jade tower is the intelligent manufacturing cloud pavilion, and the silver sea is the green forest spring. Every snowflake finds its place: resting on winter plums, it becomes a golden hairpin; settling on privet, it turns into a green hairpin. Even the snow covering the new workshop's roof is as orderly as a wafer array, breathing in sync with the rhythm of the production line

By the time the midday sun hangs high, melting snow drips from the wisteria trellis like a crystal curtain. The spring breeze passes through the corridor, orchestrating the Yinuowei battle song's melody into a garden full of jingling ornaments. Pausing to listen to the rustle of melting ice and snow, one knows it's the sound of spring grinding ink in the cherry garden, soon to dye ten li of crimson clouds