54: Chapter 54 Old Zhou's Clocks and Time

The twilight was like a piece of cotton soaked in thick ink, gradually smothering the eaves of the Old neighborhood. Just as Chen Jie helped Brother Li push the last repaired bicycle into the shed, a strange "tick-tock" sound suddenly came from Old Zhou's clock stall—not the usual crisp sound of interlocking gears, but more like water droplets falling on bronze, carrying an aged chill.

The mahogany mantel clock inside the glass display case was glowing with an eerie light. A green mist seeping from the cracks in the dial condensed into tiny ice crystals in mid-air, and the hands, pointing at 3:17, flickered in the mist as if nudged by an invisible hand. Old Zhou's hand, holding a magnifying glass, trembled violently, and his eyes behind the lenses bulged: "This balance wheel has clearly been broken for three days... How can it be moving on its own?"

As soon as Chen Jie approached the counter, his canvas backpack suddenly grew as hot as if it held a piece of red-hot iron. He caught sight of the green mist crawling out from the gaps in the display case, sizzling as it turned into steam upon hitting the ground. The jade stone inside his backpack was heating up, and the deep blue glow lighting up the patterns on its surface seeped through the fabric, forming a patch of light resembling a galaxy.

"Uncle Zhou, step back a bit." His voice was slightly tight, and the spiritual energy at his fingertips surged toward his palm along his Bloodline. Last time at Suiyu Slope, the stream had flowed backward and frozen under the influence of the jade stone. Now, time itself seemed to be frozen in the mantel clock inside the display case; the pendulum hung suspended in mid-air, trembling slightly, and the surrounding air rippled like a lake surface after a stone is thrown in.

The moment his fingertips pressed against the glass case, the blue light suddenly exploded. The hands of the mantel clock began to spin backward frantically, and the green mist pouring from the cracks in the dial wove into a translucent cocoon outside the case. A figure wearing a long gown gradually emerged within the cocoon. He had a goatee, with traces of turpentine on the beard beneath his chin, and was leisurely wiping the bronze base of the mantel clock with a silk cloth. His movements were slow, and even the frayed edges of his cuffs could be clearly seen. The screwdriver between his fingers had a horn handle, glowing with a warm yellow in the mist, making a very faint rustling sound as it scraped against the gears.

"Shopkeeper Zhang?" Old Zhou suddenly slumped onto his camp stool, his voice shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind. "My grandfather once drew his portrait... He was the shopkeeper of this clock shop during the early republic of china! Look at that bunch of brass keys at his waist, they're exactly the same as in the portrait!"

The figure seemed to hear him and slowly turned around. His face was barely visible in the mist, with the dust of time accumulated in the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. In his hand, he still clutched a piece of flannel cloth soaked in machine oil until it looked like amber. "Young man, the hairspring of this clock is broken. You need to twist three strands of silk to make a new one, and wipe it with cotton dipped in turpentine..." His voice sounded as if it came from very far away, mixed with the clicking sound of gears turning. "Remember not to use iron tweezers. They will magnetize it, and it won't keep time accurately."

Chen Jie's breath caught. The repair method this man described was exactly the same as the technique he had used yesterday when repairing the fan for Zhao Kai. He noticed that the hem of the shopkeeper's long gown was stained with some verdigris, likely from years of working with metal. There was a faint, crescent-shaped callus on the second joint of his left index finger, clearly worn there from gripping a screwdriver. "How did you know..."

Before he could finish his sentence, the blue light suddenly receded into the backpack like an ebbing tide. The green mist instantly dissipated, and the hands of the mantel clock slammed back to 3:17, while the broken balance wheel fell into the movement with a snap. A translucent scrap of flannel cloth appeared out of thin air on the counter, carrying the bitter scent of turpentine, only to dissolve into water vapor a few seconds later.

"He said... don't use iron tweezers?" Chen Jie touched his hot backpack, the moisture on his fingertips condensing into tiny ice crystals in his palm. "Uncle Zhou, is this clock from the third year of the republic of china? I saw a brass tag with 'Union' written on it hanging from his keychain."

Old Zhou was so shocked his glasses fell off. "How did you know? My great-grandfather's ledger records that he bought it from Shopkeeper Zhang in the third year of the republic of china! Back then, he indeed repaired clocks for Union Hospital!"

Chen Jie didn't speak, but simply pulled a cloth from his backpack to wipe the counter. The moisture from the green mist on the cloth actually left behind a faint string of numbers, looking like old newspaper soaked in water. He suddenly remembered the moment the paper jam reverted to an unjammed state when he was repairing Su Rui's scanner. So, it hadn't been a simple reversal; rather, the jade stone had torn open a crack in time, allowing those lost crafts and memories to reach across a century, delivering a scrap of flannel and a word of advice.

The evening breeze lifted the corners of his clothes, carrying the fresh scent of wild chrysanthemums. Chen Jie looked down at his palm, where the cool sensation of turpentine seemed to linger, like an old story steeped in time, finally settling gently into his palm after a hundred years.