36: Chapter 36 Brother Li's "Money-Saving" Commission

The evening in the Old neighborhood is always wrapped in the scent of meals. Smoke from Grandma Zhang's coal stove drifts out through the window cracks, intertwining with the aroma of braised meat from the Wang Leis Braised Food Stall, weaving a warm web at the alley entrance.

Chen Jie is squatting in front of Brother Li's bicycle stand, his screwdriver wrestling with a loose brake cable on the handlebars. When he tightens the screw with a "click," he hears Brother Li's loud voice from behind: "Jie-zi, do me a favor!"

Brother Li runs over carrying a semi-old electric fan. Most of the paint on the plastic casing has peeled off, revealing a yellowish base, and the blades are coated in a layer of black dust, like they were covered with a thin veil.

"Look at this broken fan," he says, squatting on the ground and poking at a crack in the fan's base. "It was fine the day before yesterday, but yesterday it suddenly stopped working. The appliance repairman said the motor needs replacing, which would cost fifty yuan—see if you can fix it up; every little bit saved helps."

Chen Jie puts down the screwdriver and takes the fan, weighing it in his hand. Through the crack in the base, he can see some copper coils, rusted green.

"Let me take a look." He places the fan on the wooden board behind the stand, unplugs the power cord, and gently pries the latch on the edge of the base with his fingertips. With a "pop," the front cover separates from the body, revealing the motor wrapped in dusty lint.

Zhao Kai, chewing on a popsicle, leans in and glances into the fan: "This thing is falling apart, why fix it? You could buy a second-hand one for fifty yuan that's better than this."

"What do you know?" Brother Li glares at him, then turns to Chen Jie with a smile, "Jie-zi, you're skillful. Last time, with my washing machine, others said the motherboard needed replacing, but you fixed it in a few clicks without spending a penny—if this fan can be fixed, I'll treat you to Wang Lei's braised pork knuckle with the money saved."

Chen Jie doesn't respond. He pulls a brush from his tool bag, dips it in machine oil, and brushes it onto the motor bearing. Lint mixed with grease falls off, revealing a shaft rusted to a dark red.

He tries to move the shaft, but it doesn't budge—it's clearly stuck by rust. "Need to loosen the rust." He drips three drops of machine oil into the axle hole, pulls out a small wrench to grip the nut in the center of the fan blades, and turns it counter-clockwise for half a turn. The nut loosens with a "creak," and the fan blades fall off; the plastic on the edges is already brittle and cracked.

"Don't these blades need to be replaced?" Brother Li looks at the cracked notch, his brow knitted into a knot.

Chen Jie holds the fan blades up to the sunlight; the notch hasn't damaged the central metal ring. "It's fine, just need to patch it with hot melt glue." He stands the motor upright and rubs his fingertips over the terminals; the oxide layer flakes off, revealing the dull copper color underneath.

Just then, his canvas backpack vibrates slightly—the silhouette of the jade stone beneath the fabric glows with a faint green light, like dying embers in a stove. Chen Jie's heart stirs. He pulls out sandpaper and quickly polishes the terminals. The copper strips begin to shine as he rubs them, and even the temperature of the motor casing drops, no longer as scorching hot as before.

"The terminals were heavily oxidized." He uses tweezers to pick up a new insulating washer and puts it on, then wraps the loose wire around the post. When he reaches the third loop, he suddenly holds down the wire end and dabs a bit of machine oil onto the contact point. "This way, it won't have poor contact anymore."

Zhao Kai watches, clicking his tongue in amazement: "Your technique is even smoother than when you fixed the benches in the Old neighborhood—but seriously, Brother Li, you're too stingy. You can't bear to spend fifty yuan? No wonder your wife always nags you."

"What do you know, you brat." Brother Li pats Zhao Kai on the arm. "Making money isn't easy; why not save if you can? Besides, this fan was bought when my daughter was in middle school. It's been used for nearly ten years; it'd be a pity to throw it away."

He suddenly lowers his voice and glances at Chen Jie's backpack. "Jie-zi, is that stone of yours... still in your bag? Wang Lei said last time that his braised food didn't spoil all because of its help."

Chen Jie doesn't answer, busy using a hot glue gun to patch the notch in the fan blades. The glue solidifies into a milky white chunk. He sands the edges smooth, attaches it to the motor, and "clicks" the nut tight.

When he presses the switch, the motor hums, and the wind stirred up by the blades blows dust into his face. All three speed settings run smoothly, though the sound is slightly louder than a new fan, like an old man's cough. "It's done." He wipes the glue stains off his hands. "Don't always run it on the highest setting; the motor is a bit old. Use it sparingly, and it should last another two years."

Brother Li is grinning from ear to ear and insists on stuffing two bags of laundry detergent into Chen Jie's hands. "Take it! A thank-you gift! I'll definitely treat you to pork knuckle another day!"

As he walks home clutching the fan, he calls back, "Jie-zi, if there's anything else that's hard to fix next time, I'll come to you!"

Zhao Kai watches his retreating figure and pats Chen Jie on the shoulder. "Not bad, you earned two more bags of detergent. But seriously, if you opened a repair shop with your skills, it would definitely be more popular than Wang Leis Braised Food Stall."

Chen Jie smiles and touches his backpack. The jade stone is quiet; the green light on its surface has faded, leaving only a cold sensation seeping through the canvas.

He suddenly remembers Old Liu saying at Suiyu Slope that "the stones from Suiyu Slope are imbued with Spiritual Qi and can recognize a master." Perhaps this "recognizing a master" isn't just about showing its power while following him, but also about accompanying him in this Old neighborhood, living life steadily and comfortably—just like this repaired fan, not flashy, but sufficient.

Hidden in the breeze is nothing but the warmth of ordinary life.