I spent sixteen years inside a metal cutting-tool factory — from sales and shop visits to the production line, molds and fixtures, with my hands on nearly every corner of it. What I know best is the design and machining of cutting tools — a craft that speaks only through drawings, tolerances, and patience.
At the end of 2024 I left the tooling factory I'd grown up in, and in 2025 founded ACCuratech. Taiwan has so many excellent traditional metalworking shops — they can make, and make well, but differences in language, culture, and business rhythm often keep them from winning orders from large Western companies.
So I chose to be the person in the middle — translating a factory's capability into language Western buyers understand, and breaking a buyer's needs down into drawings and tolerances the factory can read.
Not selling tools. Selling trust, in two languages.
Reading client drawings, judging whether a process is feasible, finding a factory that can actually deliver — and making every tolerance clear in two languages.
From cutting-edge angles to fixture layout, translating a product's functional needs into drawings that can be machined — and repeated.
Breaking a single order down into materials, operations, equipment and hours — turning a factory's capacity into a predictable promise.
Keeping every promise on behalf of both factory and client. Engineering isn't only specs — it's the trust that lets both sides sleep at night.
Turning that same patience on myself. Weight, breath, and the honest feedback of the body — like machining, it takes time.
Running, ball games, the outdoors. The kind of day that loosens both shoulders and thoughts — a ritual before heading back to the floor.
Work takes me abroad; curiosity makes me stay a few days longer. Planning a trip is like planning a process — get the details right and the whole road flows.
Trust is the only finish that lasts. Between metal and people, the only thing that never wears down is trust.