32: Chapter 32 An Attempt to Keep Jade as a Bottom of the Box

The afternoon in the Old neighborhood was wilted by the sun; locust tree leaves curled into small tubes, and the sound of cicadas rolled down from the treetops, crashing against the mottled walls and shattering into a haze of irritation.

Chen Jie squatted in front of the toolbox on the balcony, holding a piece of faded red cloth in his hand, his fingertips rubbing against the frayed edges of the fabric—this was leftover from when he helped Grandma Zhang mend her curtains last year, and it was now being used to wrap that dark green jade stone.

The patterns on the stone's surface were covered in a thin layer of dust, as if someone had scribbled on them with a calligraphy brush.

As Chen Jie wrapped it in the red cloth, he suddenly remembered that under the waterfall at Suiyu Slope, these lines had once glowed with orange-red light, flowing along the patterns as fast as flickering flames in a stove; he remembered how, in the heavy rain, blue light had traveled along the ink marks of the wet map, redrawing the blurred mountain paths until they were clear—but now, there was only the cold touch of the stone, stingy with even a glimmer of light.

"Hide it, and life can be peaceful," he muttered to himself, stuffing the wrapped jade stone into the bottom layer of the toolbox and pressing it under a pile of rusty old parts.

On top lay a wrench he had been using for five years; the anti-slip texture on its iron handle was worn smooth and shiny—it was the tool he had grown accustomed to using when fixing the benches in the Old neighborhood.

The moment the latch clicked shut, he felt a sense of emptiness, as if he had just removed a familiar part and didn't know where to put it.

Zhao Kai leaned against the balcony door frame, his body tilted slightly forward, as if he might fall at any moment.

He held an empty soda can between the fingers of his right hand, turning it unconsciously. The metal of the can rubbed against his fingers, emitting a faint "swish" sound. This sound seemed particularly harsh in the silent air, as if it could pierce one's eardrums and reach deep into the heart, making one feel restless and agitated.

"Should've done this long ago," Zhao Kai said suddenly, his voice low and tinged with disdain. "What does the Old neighborhood need with some Jade God Spiritual Qi? Life here is simple and practical; fixing things relies on a wrench, and cooling relies on a freezer. There's no place for all that fancy, nonsensical stuff."

His gaze fell on Chen Jie, who was nearby, watching him push the toolbox to the corner, then straighten up and clap his hands. Zhao Kai suddenly let out a sneer, the sound jarringly abrupt in the quiet environment.

"Are you afraid it'll crawl out in the middle of the night and help you move Auntie Wang's pickle jar downstairs by another half inch?" Zhao Kai's words were filled with mockery; he seemed completely baffled by Chen Jie's actions, perhaps even a little disdainful.

Chen Jie didn't respond, his gaze drifting past Zhao Kai to the alley entrance downstairs. Wang Lei's braised food stall was steaming, the aroma of braised pork knuckle mixing with the scent of coal smoke, tangling with the fumes rising from Grandma Zhang's coal stove.

He suddenly remembered when he first found the jade stone; he had only thought its patterns were novel, never imagining it could absorb smoke, slow down time, or move stone slabs at his will. Now, hiding it away felt like forcibly shoving an adventure into a drawer.

"Actually..." Chen Jie squatted down, his fingers tapping lightly on the toolbox latch. "I still feel like it has a use," he murmured to himself, as if this were not just an ordinary stone, but a magical object with endless possibilities.

He thought of many trifles in life. For instance, in autumn, Grandma Zhang's radio was prone to dampness; every time she turned it on, it would crackle, as if it had fallen ill from moisture. And this stone? Maybe it would be more effective than alcohol-soaked cotton. Perhaps it could absorb the moisture inside the radio, allowing that old device to regain its clear sound.

Then there was Wang Lei's freezer, which was always inexplicably leaking refrigerant, requiring someone to be called in for repairs every time. Perhaps one day, this stone could come in handy, acting like a tiny patch to plug the hairline cracks in the freezer and stop the refrigerant from leaking.

Chen Jie's thoughts drifted further and further. He even imagined the scene of the neighborhood's water pipes freezing and bursting in winter. Back then, the entire neighborhood would fall into chaos, with people anxiously waiting for repair crews to arrive. Could this stone, like it did at Old Zhou's house, turn murky water clear? Perhaps it could filter out the Impurities in the water, allowing everyone to use clean water again.

These thoughts were like coal that hadn't burned through, smothered in ash; though they weren't burning brightly, they refused to go out.

Zhao Kai watched Chen Jie's dazed expression and found it somewhat amusing. He casually crushed the soda can, producing a "creak" sound. "What are you thinking about? Don't tell me you're hoping it'll take you back to Suiyu Slope again?"

Chen Jie was interrupted by Zhao Kai's words. He snapped back to reality and shook his head. "No." His voice was very soft, as if he were still immersed in his own imagination.

Sunlight filtered through the screen window, spilling onto the back of his hand and bringing a trace of warmth. Chen Jie felt that warmth and suddenly smiled. "I was thinking, when later..." He paused, seemingly contemplating how to continue.

After a moment, a smile appeared on his face. "When Brother Li's bicycle chain drops again, maybe it could help me hand over a screw."

This was half-joking, half-serious. What he actually hoped for was that this jade stone could be like the old objects in the Old neighborhood, slowly blending into daily life—no need to glow, no need to manifest spirits, just stay quietly in the toolbox, occasionally vibrating lightly while he repaired things, as if saying, "This should be tightened a bit more." It was just like Grandma Zhang's old clock; the "tick-tock" of the pendulum was annoying, but if it actually stopped, you would feel like something was missing.

At dinner time, the plate of braised pork knuckle that Wang Lei brought out was overflowing with fragrance, as if it could snatch away a person's soul. Chen Jie ate heartily, all the while listening to Zhao Kai excitedly recount how he had helped Brother Li fix his bicycle that afternoon. Yet, Chen Jie's ears were always involuntarily pricked toward the balcony, as if he were expecting something.

The toolbox on the balcony sat quietly, with none of the imagined vibrations or the slightest glimmer of light. It was like a true, stubborn stone, finally completely covered by the mundane life of the world, having lost its former vitality and brilliance.

As night deepened, all was silent. Chen Jie lay in bed, listening to the sound of cicadas outside the window gradually grow sparse. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep, his mind constantly occupied by the toolbox on the balcony. Finally, unable to suppress the urge within, he walked to the balcony in the dark.

Chen Jie gently opened the toolbox, and the jade stone wrapped in the red cloth came into view. It was still cold, and the patterns on its surface, illuminated by the moonlight, showed a very faint outline, resembling a not-yet-dry ink painting. Chen Jie stared at the jade stone, an inexplicable emotion surging in his heart.

He suddenly remembered what Old Liu had once said about the "gratitude of the stones from Suiyu Slope." Perhaps this silence was just the jade stone silently adapting to the rhythm of life in the Old neighborhood. It was just like when he had first learned to repair radios; it had also taken time to figure out the temperament of each part.

"Take it slow," Chen Jie said softly, as if telling himself, but also as if comforting the jade stone. He carefully placed the jade stone back at the bottom of the box, then gently closed the lid and locked the box with a small copper lock.

Chen Jie knew that this jade stone, like the old objects he had once repaired, needed time to settle and patient waiting. They all had their own unique stories and value, and only at the appropriate time would they reveal their true brilliance.

He imagined that one day, when he opened the box again and took out the jade stone, it would, like those old objects, emit a crisp "click" at some unexpected moment. That sound would be like the jade stone telling its secrets, and these were secrets that only Chen Jie could understand.

By then, the Old neighborhood might still be filled with the aroma of braised food, and the summer cicadas would still be echoing in his ears. But in this familiar scene, there would be one more secret that only Chen Jie knew, just like adding a spoonful of savory braising sauce to plain days, making life all the more flavorful.