After completing the final micro-welding task, Xu Le removed his dark protective goggles with a sense of satisfaction. He carefully sorted the newly repaired components by their tags and placed them neatly into a metal crate. With a press of a button, the crate slid out of the workroom, ready to be delivered back to Sector 4 of Xianglan Avenue by tomorrow morning. Xu Le always liked to prepare in advance.
He washed his face with warm water, then pulled open a drawer and retrieved a small bottle of medicinal eye drops. With practiced precision, he applied them to his eyes. Even with all the observation devices available, the intricate world of metal microchips was a strain on any mechanic's vision. He often lost track of time when immersed in such delicate work, and now his eyes were bloodshot.
"Take a break, stretch those eye muscles, enjoy the view a little," said Feng Yu, rubbing his graying hair and clearly pleased with Xu Le's speed and focus.
Over the past half-year, most of the work for the repair shop on Xianglan Avenue had been carried out right here in this remote mining pit by Xu Le. Feng Yu, for the most part, just stayed at the storefront, only visiting on weekends to offer guidance. Over time, Xu Le had become even faster than Feng Yu himself—an ex-military mechanic.
Xu Le nodded, grabbed two bottles of fruit juice from the wall freezer, and followed Feng Yu up the slope of the mine. As they ascended, the clang of metal echoed from ahead. Xu Le looked up—and once again saw Feng Yu's worn, ostentatious denim jeans, tightly hugging a rather prominent backside. A jingling bundle of keys and star-bladed tools swung behind him, repeatedly smacking against his rear and producing an irritating rhythm.
Xu Le never understood why Feng Yu insisted on that ridiculous look. But Feng Yu once told him: A swordsman never parts with his sword, a gunman never drops his firearm—and a mechanic must always carry his tools.
Xu Le knew the truth. The old man just liked the look—said it caught the attention of lonely housewives.
Dusk had fallen. The light above the Donglin District was dimming, turning from amber to deep crimson. The metal scraps piled behind Feng Yu shimmered like molten fire under the fading sun. Xu Le squinted his already narrow eyes and watched the older man's silhouette struggle up the incline. He couldn't help but think back to two years ago, when he had naïvely walked into the repair shop for the first time.
Their relationship was… strange. Not quite student and teacher, though Xu Le had learned everything he'd ever wanted to know about machines from Feng Yu. Fixing appliances might not bring him closer to his dream of becoming a starship repair officer—or escaping to the capital star cluster for a better life—but the repair shop had brought him peace, and a sense of fulfillment.
Technically, Xu Le wasn't even employed by Feng Yu. He'd never received a paycheck. Just a freezer full of food. That made him more like a bound laborer—the most pitiful kind, scraping by on meager rations.
Still, over the last two years, he had earned the shop quite a bit of money.
"There's a draft registration coming up," Xu Le said, watching Feng Yu's back. "If I apply as a repair technician, the government only covers forty percent of the fee."He hesitated, then added, "I only have two years left… I need to start saving."
It was an obvious hint that maybe, just maybe, he deserved a little pay.
But Feng Yu didn't even turn around. "You're the one who begged me to teach you, remember? Did I ever ask for tuition?"
Shameless old man. Even more shameless than me.
Xu Le thought it bitterly but couldn't argue. He remembered how he'd clung to Feng Yu's leg, crying and pleading to be taken in. No, he didn't have the guts to bring up money again. With a sigh, he jogged ahead and sat down beside Feng Yu.
They had reached the top of the mine. Behind them, the outline of distant buildings blurred into the horizon. In front of them stretched a vast, green plain. Deep in the grasslands stood towering trees, their leafy tops glowing like flickering flames under the twilight sky.
"I've always been curious," Feng Yu said, not taking the juice Xu Le handed him. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and stared hungrily at the view. "There are at least a thousand repair shops in Donglin. Why mine?"
Xu Le blinked. He hadn't expected the question—especially not two years late. After a pause, he looked down and said, "The vacuum door at the café broke, and I heard you were the one who fixed it. So, I came looking."
"Anyone could've fixed that door," Feng Yu scoffed, not looking back.
"Maybe," Xu Le said, a glint of mischief flashing in his otherwise sincere eyes. "But the B2 vacuum seam? It was immaculate. The deviation was within a thousandth—two grades higher than civilian standards. Maybe even better than the military's. That's when I knew—you weren't just anybody."
Feng Yu was genuinely surprised. He reached up to swat the kid's head but settled for ruffling Xu Le's messy hair instead. "You're insane. Who the hell would measure something like that?"
"Maybe it was instinct?" Xu Le grinned. "Something about that door felt… off. I had a bit of spare cash at the time, so I bought a light-phase scanner and checked it."
"Even the smallest scanner couldn't fit under that door. How'd you do it?"
Feng Yu was clearly intrigued now.
"Uh…" Xu Le scratched his head awkwardly. "I asked Li Wei for help. We took the door off… at night. Don't worry, we put it back. I'm not a thief."
Feng Yu burst into laughter. "That door had a security system."
"You mean the one hidden in the glass panel?" Xu Le looked away, embarrassed. "I… found it immediately. Took it out."
Feng Yu fell silent. He just looked at Xu Le for a long time.
Two years ago, Xu Le was nothing more than a self-taught wannabe, memorizing industrial standards in the public library. And yet, he'd managed to disable a security device Feng Yu himself had installed.
His instincts had been right all along.
A few majestic wild buffalo emerged from the trees, bathed in the last light of dusk. They lumbered toward the mining pit, unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching them hungrily.
"Uncle, we haven't had fresh beef in six months," Xu Le said, swallowing hard.
Feng Yu stood, his gaze fixed on the long stretch of metallic fencing between the grassland and the abandoned mine. His face darkened as he muttered, "Of all the laws the Federation ever passed, the one I hate most is the damned Wildlife Protection Act."
Xu Le tried not to laugh. "What's the other one?"
"The First Charter," Feng Yu growled.
Then, with all the swagger of a man about to break federal law, he motioned for Xu Le to follow him toward the fence—and the buffalo beyond.