46: Chapter 46 The Dormitory Fan That Keeps Losing Blades

The Old neighborhood was covered in fallen sycamore leaves. Chen Jie was helping Brother Li oil his bicycle chain when he saw Chen Yang running over with a half-deflated sports bag on his back. The bangs on his forehead were stuck to his brow with sweat, and he was carrying an old fan wrapped in a plastic bag, the plastic casing printed with a faded cartoon bear.

"Brother, take a look at this piece of junk!" Chen Yang slammed the fan onto the ground, and the plastic bag tore open with a "rip," revealing the crooked fan blades inside. "I've used it in my school dormitory for three years, but the blades keep falling off lately. Yesterday, it almost sliced my roommate's hand."

Chen Jie put down the oil can and crouched down to pinch the edge of the fan blades. The plastic had become brittle with age, and there was a tiny crack near the axis, like a lurking little snake. The material is too poor; I'm afraid it won't last long, he muttered to himself. He rubbed his fingertips over the crack, but a familiar tingling sensation rose in the web of his hand—the jade stone in his backpack had started to heat up again, as if stubbornly reminding him that "this thing can still be saved."

"It's about to fall apart; just throw it away." Although he said that, his hand instinctively reached for the toolbox. Oh well, he was idle anyway; he might as well use it to practice on for this kid.

"Don't do that," Chen Yang said, stuffing a bottle of iced black tea into his hand, the bottle beaded with condensation. "I bought this with half a month of my living expenses; it would be a shame to throw it away. Do you think you can fix it? Just like you fixed Grandma Zhang's radio; once you're done, it can last another two years."

Chen Jie didn't say anything and pulled a screwdriver out of his canvas backpack. Sunlight fell onto the fan through the gaps in the sycamore leaves, and dust had accumulated in the scratches on the plastic casing, reminding him of the wobbly ceiling fan in his own dormitory back in the day. If he had had this skill back then, he wouldn't have been so hot that he couldn't sleep all night. As he dismantled the base, Chen Yang suddenly exclaimed, "Ah!" pointing at the axis: "Look at this screw, it's rusted to dust!"

Indeed, the screw holding the fan blades had rusted black, its edges twisted out of shape like a rotten tooth. Chen Jie sprayed some machine oil onto the screwdriver. The moment his fingertips touched the screw, he felt a surge of spiritual power slip through his fingers, like a thin needle piercing into the rust. He had to be gentle, he reminded himself; he had been too hasty when fixing the bench last time and had almost snapped the steel bar. The plastic casing of this fan was even more fragile; he had to treat it like kneading dough, slowly following the grain.

"Brother, why don't you use an angle grinder?" Chen Yang squatted beside him, watching him sand the screw bit by bit. "Brother Zhao Kai said that when you were repairing the steel bars, that thing was spinning like a Fire-Wheel."

"This plastic casing won't hold up to that," Chen Jie said without looking up. When the grinding wheel touched the screw, tiny sparks flew, landing on his work pants like scattered gold dust. "Old objects are just like people; you have to work with their temperament, you can't force them."

He suddenly thought of the jade stone from Suiyu Slope; in the mountains, it could move stone slabs, but in the city, it was only willing to quietly help keep the braised meat fresh. Perhaps everything had its limitations, he pondered; forcing it to perform beyond its capacity was more likely to cause it to break. Just as he was thinking this, the fan blade suddenly "clattered" to the ground, and a small chip broke off at the crack.

"I told you it wouldn't work." Chen Yang picked up the fan blade, his tone tinged with disappointment. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have brought it to trouble you."

Chen Jie didn't respond, just fixed the fallen fan blade onto the bench vise. He dug out a piece of epoxy resin glue from his toolkit and smeared some on the crack. The spiritual power from his fingertips slowly seeped in along with the glue, like applying an ointment to a wound. The glue set slowly, which was perfect for letting the spiritual power soak in for a while longer, he calculated. "It'll be fine after drying for half an hour." He stuffed a rubber pad into the base. "This will reduce the vibration, so the fan blades won't fall off as easily."

Chen Yang stared at his hands for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Brother, your fingertips seemed to have a light just now? A pale green one, just like what Xiao Ya said."

Chen Jie tightened the screws on the fan base, the "click" of the metal interlocking drowning out his response. This kid's eyes were getting sharper, he thought with a click of his tongue. He caught Chen Yang still staring at the web of his hand, where the thin calluses shimmered with a very faint luster in the sunlight, as if covered in a layer of mist. "It's just the sunlight," he said, pushing the repaired fan toward Chen Yang. "Give it a try."

Chen Yang plugged it in, and the fan started to hum as it spun. The breeze kicked up by the blades carried a hint of machine oil, causing the sycamore leaves on the ground to swirl. "Hey, it really doesn't fall off!" He reached out to touch the blades and suddenly let out an "Eh?" "Why did this glue dry so fast? I tried gluing my sneakers last time, and it didn't set even after waiting an entire afternoon."

"It's an import; it's different." Chen Jie packed up his tools; the jade stone in his backpack had already cooled down. He suddenly remembered when Chen Yang was little and used to steal his glue to fix his toys. The arms of the Transformers he repaired were always crooked, but he treasured them so much he would sleep with them in his arms. Even though the kid had grown up, his personality hadn't changed much, and the corners of Chen Jie's mouth couldn't help but curl up.

When they packed up in the evening, Chen Yang walked toward the alley entrance clutching the fan, his back view just like when he was a child clutching his Transformers. Watching him walk away, Chen Jie suddenly felt that fixing this fan was worth it. Some things, even if they were old or broken, as long as someone still cared about them, they weren't truly useless—just like life in this Old neighborhood, full of bumps and stumbles, yet it always managed to reveal a warm, cozy sense of daily life in the most unexpected moments.