Barracks Observation | The Growth Story of the "Mountain Peak" Duo
Two "master and apprentice" noncommissioned officers from a Navy center claim top honors at major competitions in two consecutive years——
The Growth Story of the "Mountain Peak" Duo
■ Zheng Yucheng, Xie Zishuai, PLA Daily Correspondent Qi Yunting
A vessel of a certain Navy unit conducts maritime training. Photo by Wu Kunlong
In early summer, a sea breeze blows along the shores of Bohai Bay. Inside the NCO Skills Master Workshop of a certain Navy center, Staff Sergeant Third Class Zhang Qingshan and several comrades are repeatedly refining an equipment maintenance and innovation plan. Zhang Qingshan's apprentice, Corporal Feng Xuefeng, stares intently at the screen, adjusting module parameters bit by bit.
Zhang Qingshan and Feng Xuefeng are affectionately called the "Mountain Peak" duo by their comrades. In 2024, Zhang Qingshan won first place in his specialty at a national industry skills competition and was awarded a second-class merit citation. In 2025, Feng Xuefeng won the gold award at the military's inaugural "Strong Equipment Cup" Equipment Management and Application Innovation Competition and was likewise awarded a second-class merit citation that same year.
In two consecutive years, this master-and-apprentice pair successively mounted the awards podium at national and military-wide skills competitions. What is the secret to their success?
ORIGINAL INTENT
Every innovation is tightly focused on the real training pain points of officers and soldiers
Zhang Qingshan (right) and Feng Xuefeng check circuit parameters.
"Working hard on research and development is not about winning awards—it's about solving the difficulties and pain points our comrades face in training." This plain statement from Feng Xuefeng captures the original intent (初心) of all grassroots innovators at the center.
Six years ago, Feng Xuefeng had just been assigned to the signals post when he encountered difficulties during light-and-flag training. This type of training requires two or more participants. What troubled him even more was the absence of a verification tool: whether a message was sent correctly depended entirely on the experience of the senior squad leader, causing error and omission rates to remain persistently high. These problems were a source of frustration for many signals soldiers.
"It would be great if there were a training device one person could use alone," Feng Xuefeng found himself thinking.
He acted on the thought immediately. He compiled and organized his comrades' complaints about training into a notebook and distilled their core needs. When new soldiers said the operation was too complicated, he thought about simplifying the buttons. When veterans said the low-light mode was hard to see at night, he planned to add a screen brightness adjustment function. When someone raised the problem of message verification being too cumbersome, he repeatedly consulted reference materials and explored the development of an intelligent verification module. After repeated assembly, disassembly, and testing, the first prototype was finally born.
The road to development is always full of setbacks. During the first lighting test of the prototype, the lights that had been properly calibrated began to flicker as soon as they were exposed to the low-temperature maritime environment. Several comrades standing nearby couldn't help muttering quietly: "This is too hard to fix—maybe we should just forget it." Feng Xuefeng said nothing. He re-examined every circuit segment and every parameter and finally discovered that the temperature tolerance of the components was insufficient. First thing the next morning, he took his revised plan to the support department to coordinate replacement parts and recalibrate.
During that period, he collected feedback during training by day and stayed up late optimizing the design by night, ultimately developing a practical "portable light-and-flag communications training device."
Zhang Qingshan's path to innovation likewise began with a "head-scratcher" in the engine room. After nearly twenty years of working at the front line of shipboard equipment maintenance, he understood the drawbacks of traditional disassembly and reassembly methods: the procedures were cumbersome, the steps were scattered, and when a complex fault arose, personnel often had to disassemble and reassemble repeatedly, spending half a day without necessarily identifying the problem—sometimes directly slowing training progress.
"Could disassembly and reassembly be made simpler and more efficient?" To crack this hard nut, Zhang Qingshan simply moved his "workstation" into the engine room. In the harsh environment of high temperatures, noise, and the smell of oil and fumes, he explored more practical disassembly and reassembly methods. He ultimately refined a highly efficient and practical "modular disassembly method" (模块化分解法), dramatically reducing the time required to disassemble and reassemble equipment.
On one occasion, a certain type of equipment suffered a sudden fault. Using the old method, troubleshooting would have taken at least four hours. With the training mission pressing, Zhang Qingshan bore the pressure and tried disassembling with his new method, ultimately completing the localization and disassembly within one hour. That experience further steeled his resolve to optimize disassembly and reassembly methods.
Every grassroots innovation is tightly focused on the real training and combat-readiness pain points of officers and soldiers. From Feng Xuefeng's "portable light-and-flag communications training device," iterated through multiple versions, to Zhang Qingshan's "modular disassembly method"—each one speaks to soldiers' hearts and solves soldiers' difficulties. This is the most solid foundation of grassroots innovation.
SUPPORT
Innovative seeds that break through the soil need most of all the fertile ground of the organization
"Having ideas alone is useless—if the unit hadn't given us its full support, our ideas would never have gotten off the ground." When speaking of their growth experiences, the "Mountain Peak" master-and-apprentice pair said this in unison.
The innovative enthusiasm of grassroots officers and soldiers needs most of all to be nurtured; innovative seeds that break through the soil need most of all the fertile ground of the organization. The center has specifically built a "talent special zone" (人才特区), breaking down barriers of rank, position, and years of service. As long as someone has ideas and potential, new soldiers and veterans are treated equally and all are brought into the cultivation program.
Dedicated research and development space, professional instruments and equipment, and grassroots innovation support funds are all fully in place. The unit has also specifically carved out "innovation time" so that everyone can focus on research without distraction. To address the shortfall in professional expertise, the unit sends officers and soldiers to military and civilian academies for training and to equipment manufacturers for observation, and invites experts to provide on-site guidance, effectively resolving the difficulties of "lacking equipment, lacking parts, lacking technical knowledge."
Feng Xuefeng still remembers the most difficult period of his research and development work. Because his foundation in electronic programming was shaky, circuit designs repeatedly went wrong, and prototype after prototype failed. He fell into despondency.
When the center's support department learned of the situation, it arranged for him to attend an electronic programming intensive training course and invited civilian experts to provide remote guidance via video link. When components ran short, the department allocated funds from the innovation support budget to purchase them; when testing conditions were inadequate, it coordinated with professional platforms to open access.
In just three years, the "training device" Feng Xuefeng developed completed four iterations and upgrades with the unit's support, transforming from a rough prototype into a mature piece of equipment ready for large-scale promotion.
Zhang Qingshan's path to promoting his innovation likewise benefited from the support of the "talent special zone."
When he first worked out the "modular disassembly method," many people harbored doubts: the old method had been used for so many years—could the new one really be trusted? Unit leaders did not simply render a verdict; instead, they organized technical backbone personnel to assist him in experiments and collected hands-on feedback from different officers and soldiers. Once the method had matured, they had him take the stage to teach it and lead the drafting of a manual, transforming a "personal trick" into a "universal method."
Catalyzed by the "talent special zone," one grassroots idea after another has taken root. A series of practical innovations—including a "meteorological message translator," a "wireless transceiver megaphone," and a "steplessly adjustable low-light night-vision lamp"—have appeared in succession. From deep cultivation in one's own post to cross-specialty and cross-domain exploration, a wave of innovation surging from the hearts of soldiers continues to flow.
COMBINED EFFORT
From "one person's solitary research" to "master and apprentice side by side," from "individual specialty" to "shared achievement"
At the center, the "Mountain Peak" duo has long transcended an ordinary master-and-apprentice relationship, becoming a vivid embodiment of the transmission of spirit and the relay of technical skill.
When Feng Xuefeng first "took on a master," his mind was full of thoughts about "producing something new and impressive," and he became for a time absorbed in complex designs. Zhang Qingshan did not criticize him; instead, he took him into the training ground to experience firsthand the real needs of front-line training. He told Feng Xuefeng: "Our innovation is not about putting on a show or creating something to look at—we must keep our eyes on actual combat use and keep improving around the needs of officers and soldiers. Being genuinely useful is the hard truth."
When development of the "portable light-and-flag communications training device" hit obstacles and repeated experiments failed, Feng Xuefeng's spirits sank and he repeatedly thought about giving up. Zhang Qingshan stayed with him in the workshop through the night to troubleshoot, going through the drawings point by point to sort out the problems. Zhang Qingshan passed on the full store of his nearly twenty years of fault-diagnosis experience: "Working on technology is like a ship navigating—no matter how big the waves, the rudder must not drift and the heart must not panic. Stay calm and there is no obstacle that cannot be overcome."
The transmission of skills, move by move and step by step, settled over day after day into an influence on conduct and character. Under Zhang Qingshan's influence, Feng Xuefeng settled his mind and threw himself into the work, no longer chasing speed or flashiness but focusing single-mindedly on real needs and refining repeatedly. The master's spirit of being exacting, pragmatic, and willing to tackle hard problems gradually became the source of confidence from which he drew strength to overcome difficulties.
In Zhang Qingshan's eyes, meanwhile, his young apprentice brought vitality. Feng Xuefeng is quick to absorb new things and is familiar with intelligent technology; he often explains new knowledge such as programming and simulation design to his master, helping him combine traditional maintenance experience with modern technology so that the "modular disassembly method" continues to iterate and upgrade and better accommodates new types of equipment.
Scenes like this play out frequently in the workshop. The master holds equipment components and explains principles, difficulties, and maintenance experience; the apprentice sits at the computer and teaches software, algorithms, and new technology. Difficult problems are tackled together, ideas spark off each other, success brings no arrogance, and setbacks bring no discouragement.
From "one person's solitary research" to "master and apprentice side by side," from "individual specialty" to "shared achievement"—this atmosphere of master and apprentice working in concert has also spread to every post throughout the center. Veterans lead new soldiers, backbone personnel lead promising newcomers; technical skills are mutually taught, experience is mutually learned, and difficult problems are solved together.
From keeping a close eye on the urgent difficulties and concerns of officers and soldiers to find the right direction, to the unit providing all-around platforms and pathways to break through bottlenecks, to the relay of master and apprentice and the continuation of a torch of spirit to consolidate strength—the growth of the "Mountain Peak" duo is not an isolated case, and the wave of grassroots innovation is no accident.
The sea breeze blows on, and the "Mountain Peak" duo continues to cultivate their posts without pause. One innovative seed after another takes root in the fertile soil of soldiers' hearts, grows under the support of the organization, and blooms through the transmission of spirit. Countless "golden ideas" from the grassroots are converging into the mighty driving force of strengthening and revitalizing the military, writing a new chapter of sailors in the new era who stand at their posts, innovate, and achieve victory.
REPORTER'S NOTES
Where Does the Source of Innovation Lie?
■ PLA Daily Correspondent Qi Yunting
On the way to the interview, I kept turning over one question in my mind: where exactly does the source of grassroots innovation lie? The answer was found in that NCO Skills Master Workshop.
When I arrived that day, the door was ajar, and things were already lively inside. Zhang Qingshan and Feng Xuefeng, master and apprentice, were discussing a technical parameter; nearby, someone was soldering a circuit board, someone was adjusting a model, and someone else was staring at a screen doing 3D modeling. I learned later that they were "permanent members" of the workshop, drawn from different posts including cooking, rigging, and electronic countermeasures—all attracted by the "talent special zone."
After three days following them around, the source of innovation gradually came into focus. Feng Xuefeng developed the "training device" because he was "forced" into it by his comrades' complaints—specialty training couldn't be done solo, messages couldn't be verified, and nothing could be seen at night. Zhang Qingshan's "modular disassembly method" was "ground out" through repeated disassembly and reassembly in the engine room: "It was just too slow—I couldn't stand it myself." The soldier Ma Zhuang, who does 3D modeling, told me he simply felt the existing teaching aids weren't intuitive enough, so he taught himself modeling—and has been at it for two or three years.
Their starting points were not grand at all—every one of them came from those moments during training when something made you think "I can't stand this" or "if only there were a way." But what turned those moments into reality was a different kind of force.
Each of these people has a quality of sinking in and seeing things through to completion. Feng Xuefeng would plant himself in the workshop for an entire day over the problem of light flickering; if Zhang Qingshan's angle when disassembling a component was off by even a little, he would start over. The others in the workshop were the same—those learning programming, those practicing modeling—all starting from zero, busy with their primary duties by day and grinding through reference materials at night, teaching each other and pushing each other forward.
Another key to grassroots innovation is organizational support. The workshop has dedicated special funds; when personnel doing research and development need components, they submit a report and it gets approved. When technical difficulties arise, the unit steps in to coordinate remote guidance from university experts. When training tasks are heavy, dedicated "innovation time" is carved out so everyone can focus on their breakthroughs in peace. I asked Feng Xuefeng: what is the hardest thing about innovation? He said: "It's not the technology—it's that at the beginning, very few people believed in you…" Someone nearby chimed in: "That was before. It's not like that now. Once you produce something, everyone is willing to help you test it."
On the last evening of the interview, the technical problem that had been troubling the master-and-apprentice pair finally broke through. Feng Xuefeng called out "it's through!" and Zhang Qingshan immediately ran over to test and check the data. Looking at that brightly lit workshop, I suddenly felt that the so-called source of innovation is perhaps hidden in those pain points that make people say "I can't stand this," hidden in the persistence of officers and soldiers who settle their minds to solve them, and also hidden in the organization's commitment to underwriting that persistence.
FIRSTHAND ACCOUNT
The "Training Device" That Actually Works
■ Private First Class Diao Maolin
Signals soldiers conduct solo flag communications training. Photo by Wu Kunlong
When I was assigned to the signals specialty as a new soldier, I watched the squad leaders holding communications flags and signal lamps, sending commands instantly to distant points, and thought: this specialty is really cool. But when I actually got my hands on it, I found that training was nowhere near as dashing as it looked.
Flag and light training requires two or more participants—one sends the message, one receives the signal, and afterward both verify the message together. If a comrade was on duty, on a work detail, or on leave, training simply could not proceed. What was even more troubling was the absence of a verification tool: whether a message was received correctly depended entirely on feel. Several times I thought I had received it smoothly, only to find a pile of errors and omissions when it came to the assessment. During my first night training exercise, the wind on the deck was so strong that I simply could not make out the signal rhythm. The training was a complete mess, and that sense of defeat was deeply discouraging.
Last year, Squad Leader Feng Xuefeng brought the newly developed "portable light-and-flag communications training device" to the training ground and had us all try it. Honestly, I didn't hold out much hope at first—could a new device the size of a palm really solve the training problems signals soldiers had struggled with for so many years?
After using it, I discovered that this "portable light-and-flag communications training device" can be used by a single person—no more waiting for a partner to train together. After training ends, the device automatically generates the correct message text. What surprised me most was that during training, the screen brightness of the device can be adjusted just like a phone—whether day or night, brightness can be adjusted as needed, and the problem of not being able to see clearly is gone entirely.
From that point on, this "training device" became my closest "comrade-in-arms." Whenever I had free time I would grab it and put in extra practice, channeling all the time I used to spend finding a partner, waiting for a slot, and guessing at correctness into improving my skills, and seeing my own shortcomings more clearly. In several consecutive assessments, my error rate dropped again and again, and my scores gradually worked their way to the top.
During last month's mission, the squad leader had me receive the messages, and I made zero errors throughout. When the mission ended, my comrade Zhang Yanhang clapped me on the shoulder and said: "You've got it, kid!" I smiled, but in my heart I knew clearly: it was this machine that gave me the opportunity to grow faster.
I later heard from the squad leader that Squad Leader Feng had "fussed over" this training device for several years, with one generation of prototypes after another. I think he took all those difficulties during training that we couldn't quite put into words and turned them, bit by bit, into this machine. That is probably what it means for signals soldiers to truly understand each other.
(Compiled by Xie Zishuai)
The "New Method" That Actually Works
■ Staff Sergeant First Class Zhu Kexin
When Zhang Qingshan worked out that "modular disassembly method," I said nothing outwardly, but inwardly I had my doubts.
I had been working in the engine room for more than ten years. The traditional disassembly and reassembly procedure was long since carved into my muscle memory—which bolt to loosen at which step, which node was prone to problems—I could feel my way through it with my eyes closed. Zhang Qingshan's "new method" skipped several repetitive disassembly steps and went straight to the core fault point. It sounded like a time-saver, but I always felt uneasy. In combat, equipment cannot afford the slightest error—could skipping those steps truly guarantee that nothing would be missed?
I wasn't the only one who thought so. When Zhang Qingshan laid out the plan at a squad meeting, several people shook their heads. Some said the old method had been used for more than ten years and was reliable; others worried that if the "new method" missed a hidden problem, who would bear the responsibility. Zhang Qingshan only said: "Let's find an opportunity to try it."
Before long, the unit organized a fault repair drill under a simulated combat scenario. Zhang Qingshan and I each led a group, troubleshooting the fault using different methods. I followed the old procedure step by step, disassembling layer after layer. By the time I was halfway through, Zhang Qingshan had already located the core fault point. When the last screw was opened, the faulty component appeared before everyone without obstruction. The engine room went quiet for several seconds. I looked down at the work still in my hands and had to admit it inwardly: he was more than twice as fast as me.
But what truly changed my mind completely was a maritime training exercise. A certain type of equipment on the vessel suffered a sudden fault; using the old method, troubleshooting would have taken at least two hours, and such a long repair time risked delaying training progress. Zhang Qingshan went in with his new method and completed the disassembly in under forty minutes. When the repair was done, he crawled out from the bottom of the compartment, soaked through. I handed him a bottle of water and said: "Old Zhang, your method really works!"
From that point on, I not only learned it myself but actively helped promote it. When younger comrades in the squad had reservations, I told them about my own experience. Someone asked: how did you change your mind so quickly? I said: after more than ten years in the engine room, I recognize only one principle—in combat, whoever can restore equipment to fighting capability faster has the better method.
This "modular disassembly method" has now been incorporated into the unit's repair manual, and sister units have come to learn from it. From doubt to conviction, and then to helping promote it—this experience taught me one truth: for grassroots innovation results to take root at the combat post, you need someone bold enough to be the first to try something new, and you also need the rest of us to set aside our preconceptions and give new things the chance to prove themselves.
(Compiled by Qi Yunting)