26: Chapter 26 The Familiar Smell of the Old Neighborhood

As his canvas backpack strap brushed against the plane tree at the alley entrance, Chen Jie took a deep breath.

A mix of cooking fumes and vegetation exploded in his nostrils—the aroma of braised pork knuckle wafting from Wang Leis Braised Food Stall, the smoky scent rising from Grandma Zhang's coal stove, and the pungent smell of someone stir-frying chili peppers in the hallway, all tangled together in a messy way, yet far more grounding than the mist in the mountains.

His shoulders relaxed slightly, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the machine oil stain on his backpack; it was a mark left from repairing the dining car tabletop that hadn't come off after three washes, yet now it felt like a medal.

"What are you just standing there for?" Zhao Kai poked him in the lower back with his elbow, the bag of walnuts in his hand making a "clatter" sound.

"Wang Lei said he saved some freshly cooked pork knuckle; if we keep dawdling, there will only be bones left."

He tilted his head to look at Chen Jie's backpack, his brows knitted together, and his mouth twitched: "Why does your bag look lighter? Did you throw away that broken stone?"

Chen Jie moved two steps into the alley, the wild chrysanthemums by his feet swaying as he brushed past.

"If I threw it away, would you compensate me?"

When he turned back, the sunlight happened to fall on his face, filling the lines at the corners of his eyes with light, carrying a hint of teasing amusement.

"This stone is now more valuable than your water-damaged phone."

"Valuable?" Zhao Kai scoffed, reaching out to rummage through Chen Jie's backpack, but Chen Jie grabbed his wrist.

He struggled twice but couldn't break free, his expression of disdain mixed with a bit of curiosity: "Can it be eaten as food or exchanged for money? Wasn't messing around in the mountains enough? Now that you're back in the Old neighborhood, you still treat it like a treasure?"

"I checked yesterday; there is no jade stone mine at all in Suiyu Slope, just ordinary granite—your stone is, at best, a strangely shaped pebble."

Chen Jie let go of his hand, took out a piece of chamois leather from the side pocket of his backpack, and slowly wiped the oil stains from his fingertips: "Whether it's a pebble or not, it's not up to you to say."

"Auntie Wang's pickle jar stone slab—three people couldn't move it, but it made the slab move half an inch on its own. Is that something granite can do?"

He looked up at Zhao Kai, his eyes showing a bit of seriousness: "At the campsite, the black smoke from your fire all drifted toward it. You were so scared that you almost dropped your phone into the fire. Forgot?"

Zhao Kai's face flushed red instantly, and he walked toward Wang Leis Braised Food Stall with his neck stiff: "That was a coincidence!"

"The wind in the mountains is weird; you never know which way the smoke will drift—besides, if it really has abilities, why didn't it fix my phone? Now I have to pat it three times just to turn it on."

As he spoke, he took out his phone from his pocket and "slapped" it into his palm.

The screen lit up and flickered, and he angrily wiped it on his pant leg.

Chen Jie followed behind, laughing, and tapped the backpack with his fingertips: "It's shy. You keep calling it a 'broken stone,' so it won't give you a good attitude."

He suddenly lowered his voice: "Yesterday on the train, it sucked all the dust off that woman's medicine box. Didn't you see? The patterns were glowing like the gears of an old grandfather clock."

Zhao Kai's footsteps paused.

When he turned back, the suspicion in his eyes faded a bit, but he was still stubborn: "Even if it is a bit weird, can it be used as a wrench or a screwdriver? In this Old neighborhood, can it compare to the tools in your tool bag?"

He glanced at Chen Jie's tool bag, the metal corner of a wrench peeking out from the canvas seam.

"Maybe it can."

Chen Jie looked at the peeling iron railing in the hallway and reached out to touch the rust: "If Grandma Zhang's radio gets damp, maybe it's more useful than alcohol cotton."

"Old Zhou said white stone can perform Water purification; maybe this green stone can remove dampness. Do you believe me?"

Zhao Kai pursed his lips but didn't argue further, just stared at Old Li's radio for a long time while passing the shoe repair stall.

That old-fashioned radio was making a buzzing sound, and Chen Jie's backpack suddenly vibrated gently, as if someone had tapped the stone surface with their fingernails.

"Let's go, let's go eat pork knuckle."

Chen Jie pulled him, the backpack strap casting a faint green shadow in the sunlight: "I'll let you see in a while if it can suck the fishy smell out of the braised food."

Zhao Kai "snorted," but his pace quickened, the walnuts in the plastic bag clashing and making a "clatter-clatter" sound, as if responding to this conversation that held secrets.

The wind of the Old neighborhood swept by, carrying the scent of braised food, tangling the legends of the mountains and the smoke and fire of the city into an indescribable scent.