This week has been pretty busy—between going out to teach classes and accompanying clients to test molds, I’ve lost a lot of time. Once I’m out and about, I don’t have time to write or take photos. I feel like I’ve fallen behind on my work this week—I haven’t filmed many videos or written much—and I feel a little guilty about it.
But when I arrived at the workshop and saw every sawing machine running and cutting material, it showed that production was in full swing. When production is busy, my mood improves a bit. If I don’t write for a day, I know it; if I don’t write for three days, my users know it—and I feel a little guilty when I don’t write.
I think if I can avoid business trips, I should. They’re such a waste of time. When you’re on the road, all you think about is getting from point A to point B—even if you have an idea, you can’t put it into words. It’s not like sitting in the office, where a conversation with a client, a phone call, or even getting yelled at by a client can trigger a thought, and then you can write it down.
When you’re on a business trip, not only can you not write anything, but your responses to client inquiries are also sloppy, because you’re only focused on getting from point A to point B and don’t take the time to really think about the client’s needs.
But with some clients, the orders are so big that you’d feel bad if you didn’t go on the trip. Yesterday, I arrived at the client’s factory at 10:00 a.m., left at 11:30 a.m., and stayed from 2:00 p.m. to 6:00 p.m.—spending nearly eight hours at the client’s facility.
I have to say, in this kind of weather, the hot forging shop is really sweltering—so hot you feel like you’re about to get heatstroke. But after spending eight hours there, I feel that both my client and I benefited from the experience. In particular, they accepted the suggestions I made regarding the molds. This kind of trusting exchange feels great—not only does it give me a sense of accomplishment, but it also helps solve the client’s problems and strengthens our relationship.
But in reality, some people don’t see it that way. They just want to shirk responsibility. They’ll say, “There’s nothing wrong with my mold—it’s your mold steel’s fault,” or “If it’s not your mold steel’s fault, then it’s your heat treatment’s fault.”
Sometimes just thinking about it makes me furious. I’m just a mold steel supplier—I can only guarantee the performance of my mold steel. As for whether this mold steel is suitable for your mold, that’s the responsibility of your mold engineer. You need to optimize factors such as mold structure, production processes, and material selection—not shirk responsibility by saying, “You figure out the cause; everything on my end is fine.”
As a supplier of mold steel, I actually have no obligation to visit a customer’s factory to discuss production processes, how to cool the mold, how to design the mold structure, or what properties to consider when selecting materials. None of this falls within my scope of responsibility—so why do I do it?
When providing on-site service to major clients, it’s about offering a service that sets us apart from our competitors and even from certain well-known companies. Only by doing so can we secure unique orders, earn our clients’ trust, and, once they trust us, receive large orders from them—that is my original intention.
If there’s an issue with the mold steel, we must face it together; we shouldn’t just think about shifting the blame or looking for a scapegoat.
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Wu Dejian’s tool steel, the chief of staff of the user, bought everything he had used.