"I take a nap and the world changes," says Chen Tianyu.
His world certainly does. The 28-year-old keeps up with the latest technology by spending his spare time in factories that are switching to automation. That way he knows what to prioritise when teaching his class about artificial intelligence (AI) and robotics.
In front of him, around 30 college students are studying code. One of them is typing furiously as his eyes dart from the screen to the robot: "The idea is it will grab that cylindrical piece and move it over there."
A line of industrial robots are waiting to be programmed, and in another part of the classroom, students are trying to develop robotic medical instruments. As he guides them, Chen declares: "If you are not needed by the world of AI and robotics, then you'll definitely be among those eliminated".
For the people in this room, this is a step - or rather a leap - towards a future that China is meticulously building: Xi Jinping's $20bn (£14.7bn) plan to put his country at the forefront of innovation and in direct competition with the US.
The evidence is all around them. They are in the Hangzhou Technician Institute, one of several huge, purpose-built vocational schools that want to churn out the next generation of tech-savvy engineers. The campus sits on the outskirts of Hangzhou, a former imperial capital whose futuristic skyline is just the first hint of its role as a global tech hub.
Across the country, there are more than two million robots working in China's factories - which is more than anywhere else - and they are continuing to scale up at extraordinary speed.
It is a commitment that will surely change the world, much like the last time the Chinese economy underwent a massive transformation. It is already shipping its robots across the globe: more than half of the world's industrial robots are now made in China.
What is less clear is the impact of such sweeping automation in a country that sits at the heart of global manufacturing, trade and innovation. What does this mean for China's human workforce, for instance? And how would we be able to truly measure the cost of this transformation in a regime that controls information so tightly?
The future of China's workers is uncertain in the industrial revolution the world has been watching: gleaming solar grids, peak hours made noiseless by electric vehicles, machines that run faster than Usain Bolt. Over the weekend, China hosted the second edition of the World Humanoid Games where robots boxed, sprinted and marched.
What is fuelling this spectacle is another, less visible revolution happening inside factories and classrooms.
The BBC has visited industrial sites where we have been shown robots that do not look human, or dance or leap on stage but weld, paint, lift, assemble and work around the clock without a break or benefits. Some are designed to build more robots. We have also been inside academies where China is training the people who will work alongside its robotic workforce.
This is a front-row seat to what Xi calls China's "new productive forces" - and how they could reshape the country.
On a factory floor in the southern city of Chengdu, the old and and the new are working side by side.
An assembly line of around 30 middle-aged men and women is screwing, drilling and polishing CRP Technology's signature product: a robotic arm which performs various industrial tasks. Also in the room are four young engineers crowded around a console, trying to crack the code for a prototype, a new robot that they hope will help build other robots.
One of them, 31-year-old Pang Kai, who is part of the research and development team, pushes the sleek skeleton across the room. Because China's future workforce is not quite ready to strut out. For now, it can only do simple repetitive movements, such as scan a QR code.
"Maybe in another half year, it can do another task," Pang says, smiling wistfully. It's a long road and the team are celebrating every small win.
CRP Technology, which employs around 300 people, has been building robot arms for nine years. Each arm can be tailored to a factory's needs to help build cars, electronics or wind turbines. The firm says a single arm can be programmed to perform more than 90% of repetitive tasks.
The engineers also wonder if, one day, they can replace the company's workforce. "We want our new robot to be like human beings. We hope it can think by itself," says Pang. "We need these kinds of robots because maybe in 10 years, we won't have enough workers in China."
A shrinking population and an ageing workforce is another reason Beijing is in a hurry to revolutionise its factories. By 2035, more than a third of China's population will be over 60, according to official estimates. The country will also lose nearly 60 million people in the next decade - almost equivalent to the population of France - according to some estimates.
The hope is that increased automation will fill this looming gap in the workforce before it starts to affect an already sluggish economy. But the speed of the transition is key. Around 120 million people still work in the manufacturing sector. If China moves too quickly, job losses could follow dealing a catastrophic blow to millions who depend on factory wages.
"In theory, machines can work 24 hours a day, which is certainly an advantage compared with human workers. But machines also require maintenance. Every day we need time for that, and each month the production line also requires inspection and repair," says Cao Li, vice-president of EV maker Leapmotor.
Increasingly popular in Europe and the UK, the company's budget-friendly, tech-focused cars come together at the Hangzhou factory with robots aiding the process at every step. At the end of the assembly line, more humans emerge.
The company has more than 25,000 workers and hundreds of them make the final checks as the sparkling new vehicles roll past. Will there be a day when they are no longer needed?
"It's entirely possible," Cao says. "And it may come relatively quickly. In workshops, including stamping, welding, and painting, we've basically achieved 100% automation."
And that is why China is also investing in producing a generation of students learning to imagine what could come next.
At the Hangzhou Technician Institute, for example, children can start from the age of 15. And the scale of what is being taught can feel staggering. There is an entire building dedicated to engines and aeronautics, and a restricted floor for students who will work to keep China at the forefront of processing rare earths - another crucial commodity in the battle with Washington.
Some see this as a solution to China's stubbornly high youth unemployment rate, with one in five struggling to find a job. "Our students are in demand and can even be pre-booked by companies. They don't need to worry about employment at all, and we hold competitions as part of their training," Chen, the young teacher, says.
"It's better to find your position within the technological wave. In the process of progress, structural changes are bound to occur, and these structural changes are exactly where students' future employment opportunities lie."
But China still faces serious economic challenges, from a property crisis that continues to drag on to huge local government debt and persistently low consumption.
It is unclear if and how the revolution Beijing is touting will fix these, and it is hard to gauge how those whose jobs are threatened feel about the change that is coming. Will robots create prosperity for them, or simply take many of their jobs?
"My students ask me what will happen in the future," Chen says. "I say I don't know. Technology is changing so fast. But we can't just stand still and sleep here. We have to move forward to see what we are capable of doing."
