Chapter 11: A New Beginning

It took two days. Qin Yun used the Steinway-dedicated acoustic testing instruments to re-measure the soundboard's vibration frequency and string tension, used a tactile tester to check the key rebound speed and force, and confirmed every problem, marking each one on the piano.

Because some parts needed to be custom-matched by the Steinway factory, for now he could only fix what could be fixed. Spending one day, he smoothly completed the restoration of the piano's exterior and replaced the built-in humidity regulator that had failed.

"Swindler!"

Qin Yun was cleaning the delaminated sections between the soundboard and the ribs, clearing out the old glue and impurities from the gaps. Just then, a childish voice came from behind him.

Without turning his head, he said, "Mushroom Head, today's Wednesday. Don't you have school?"

Zhao Yiyan, nine years old, third-grader, with a mushroom-head haircut.

"Don't call me Mushroom Head, and school's already out, swindler."

Zhao Yiyan hadn't even put down his backpack before running to the piano room. He firmly believed Qin Yun was a big swindler out to cheat his family out of money. At his age, he was just learning big numbers; to him, 250,000 was already a sky-high sum, enough to buy many of the toys he wanted.

But it could only pay this swindler's repair fee in front of him. What repair worker charges that much? If he's not a swindler, what is he?

"Why do you think I'm a swindler?" Qin Yun found the little fellow a bit annoying, but the kid wasn't actually interfering with his work—just running his mouth—so he let it go. After all, it was 250,000 yuan.

"I asked a girl in our class. Her family has a piano too, and they only paid a little over 100,000 for it. You want over 200,000 just to repair it. If you're not a swindler, what are you?" The little fellow said it as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

Qin Yun turned his head to glance at him, patted the piano body, and said, "Then do you know how much your sister's piano cost?"

Zhao Yiyan shook his head. "How much could it be worth? No matter how expensive, it can't be more than your repair fee."

"Then how about you go ask your mom or your sister and have them tell you how much this piano cost? Maybe once you know the price, you won't think I'm a swindler anymore."

Zhao Yiyan hesitated for a moment, then turned and ran out.

Qin Yun didn't mind. The little fellow came every day and never seemed to tire of it.

Just then, someone walked in at the door.

"Mr. Qin, your delivery is here. Shall I have someone carry it in?"

Qin Yun stood up and smiled. "Butler Lu, please have everything brought into the room."

Butler Lu was the butler of this villa. The household also had a chef, a housekeeper, and servants—the lives of the rich were truly hard to imagine.

Soon, the tools and custom parts shipped from Germany were all carried in.

Qin Yun opened each one and sorted them into their proper places.

Up to now in the repairs, apart from Zhao Yiyan, the rest of the Zhao family had long since developed full confidence in his ability to restore the piano. After all, right before their eyes, the once-dreadful piano had been gradually brought back to life.

Judging by appearance alone, it already looked no different from brand new; it was simply that the acoustic components and the action system hadn't been repaired yet.

Soon, another week passed. The only parts of the entire piano left to repair were the action and the pedal transmission, but today he had to take a day off.

"Mr. Qin, shall I have someone drive you there?"

Zhao Lingsu didn't ask further, only offered a suggestion, but Qin Yun declined directly.

"No need. My car's still parked in the underground garage. I won't trouble you."

Zhao Lingsu nodded. "Alright then, Mr. Qin, please go ahead as you wish."

For the past ten-odd days, Qin Yun had been staying at the Zhao residence. There were plenty of empty rooms here, more than enough for however many people came.

He drove to the Minzheng Bureau, casually found a parking spot, then walked into the Minzheng Bureau hall with his ID card and marriage certificate. At a glance, he spotted two familiar figures.

One was Song Ya—after a month apart, she looked radiant. The other was that former mother-in-law.

The mother and daughter saw Qin Yun, rolled their eyes, gave a cold snort, and without a word went to queue up. Seeing they had no intention of speaking, Qin Yun couldn't be bothered to engage. When their turn came, the staff member asked the routine questions again, but Song Mu impatiently brushed them off.

Soon, with a "click," the seal was stamped onto the divorce certificates. The staff member pushed the two booklets in front of them, eyes full of regret. The man and woman before them—one handsome, one beautiful—and yet they were getting divorced. Truly a shame.

Qin Yun thanked them, ignored the two women, turned, and walked away.

Just as he stepped out of the Minzheng Bureau hall, Song Mu's voice came from behind.

"At least you know what's good for you. Otherwise, for delaying Xia for so many years, I wouldn't have let you off easy."

Qin Yun stopped, turned to look at the mother and daughter, and a relaxed smile appeared on his face. "And thank you for not stirring up any trouble this past month."

Seeing Qin Yun's smile, Song Ya felt inexplicably annoyed. We're already divorced—what's with that look of relief and ease? If you'd begged me properly, I might have been willing to give you another chance. Now it's all over. Too late.

"Goodbye… no, never see you again."

Qin Yun strode to the parking lot, pulled open the car door and got in, then started the car and sped away.

Song Mu watched Qin Yun drive off, momentarily stunned.

"Where did he get a car?"

Song Ya shook her head. "I don't know. He doesn't have money."

"He must have stashed private savings. You silly girl, you're just not sharp at all." Song Mu tapped Song Ya's head, dissatisfied.

Song Ya pouted. "That car looks expensive. There's no way he bought it. He must have rented or borrowed it."

Qin Yun glanced at the divorce certificate on the passenger seat. A sense of unprecedented ease settled over his body, as if a burden had been lifted. The joy in his heart came from deep within.

"A fresh start, a start from the heart. Hahahaha!"

Facing the wind blowing in through the window, Qin Yun laughed, laughing happier and happier.

When he returned to Beijing Runyuan, Zhao Lingsu could almost feel the joy in his heart.

"Mr. Qin, how much longer before it's completely repaired?"

"Four days will do it."

Zhao Lingsu gave a slight nod. A few days earlier, she had heard that an engineer from the German Steinway company had come to Beijing. She planned to pull some strings and spend some money to have someone come take a look—mainly to verify whether the piano's restoration had any problems.

After all, neither she nor her daughter was a professional. Whether the piano had been properly repaired naturally required a professional to come inspect it. The 250,000 she could pay, but she couldn't be deceived.

She hadn't told Qin Yun about this, but even if Qin Yun had known, he wouldn't have cared.

Over the following four days, he repaired the pedal transmission, adjusted the pedal travel, calibrated the sustain and damper effects to ensure the pedal depression depth precisely matched the tonal changes. Then he did something deliberately showy: he disassembled the action right in front of the Zhao family.

When thousands of components were laid out on the floor, the shock was undeniable. Just one glance was enough to make one's eyes swim and head spin, let alone reassemble it all back together.

The problem with the action was minor and didn't need to be taken apart like this, but to give them their money's worth, he still had to show them something impressive.

After cleaning all the components, he replaced the shenda needles, applied special lubricant, and began reassembling the action, calibrating the linkage precision of each part.

This process—simplifying the complex, gathering the scattered into a whole—brought Zhao Lingsu's trust in Qin Yun to its peak. In their conversations, "Mr. Qin" became "Master Qin." Even the little fellow Zhao Yiyan was utterly won over.

He usually assembled no more than a hundred toy pieces at a time, and even then he had to constantly refer to the instructions. Yet Qin Yun had effortlessly reassembled thousands of parts without any manual—wasn't that impressive?

Once all the parts were reinstalled, only the final steps remained: tuning and inspection.

For him, this was no harder than eating with chopsticks; he finished it effortlessly in just one day. Thus, the restoration of this piano was officially complete.

"Master Qin, the money has been transferred to your account. Could you check if it's arrived?"

When Qin Yun entered the living room, two foreigners had appeared inside, but he paid them no mind and asked no questions. He checked his phone, confirmed the bank notification, and his heart leapt with joy.

"It's arrived. Thank you, Ms. Zhao."

"Haha, I should be thanking you. If this piano were shipped back to Germany, it wouldn't cost just 250,000—it would cost far more. You've not only saved me trouble, you've saved me half the money."

With that, Zhao Lingsu spoke rapidly to the two foreigners in a foreign tongue, and under the guidance of Lu the butler, they entered the music room.

Qin Yun pondered silently—without doubt, these two were the experts Zhao Lingsu had summoned to inspect the piano.

After more than ten minutes, the two foreigners emerged from the music room, pouring out a stream of unintelligible gibberish to Zhao Lingsu, gesturing wildly and exaggerating every motion.

Zhao Lingsu looked at him with astonishment. Soon after, the two foreigners were escorted out.

"Those two said this Steinway shows absolutely no signs of damage—even by their standards. They even suspect the piano was never dropped at all. Master Qin's craftsmanship is so precise that even the factory engineers couldn't tell. Truly admirable."

Qin Yun smiled. He didn't think it odd that she'd brought inspectors—he'd do the same if he were in her position.

After all, this piano was worth several million.

He declined their invitation to stay for dinner, exchanged contact information, and took his leave.

As he pulled out of the underground garage, he spotted Zhao Yyan just getting off school. He rolled down his window and called out: "Zhao Yyan, your mom said the piano repair fee will be deducted from your allowance—you're done for, hahaha!"

With that, he stomped on the accelerator and drove off in style, leaving the little boy stunned in the sunset.

In half a month, he'd netted 250,000—more than his annual salary. Qin Yun sincerely thanked the system, thanked it for granting him these skills. With these skills, he was certain his future self would never lack money—money would become nothing but a number.

With time still early, Qin Yun drove to Beijing Digital City. Had he not taken Zhao Lingsu's job, he might have hesitated before buying a camera. But now, with over 300,000 yuan in cash, what was one camera?

Yet when he saw the prices of the cameras and lenses, he suddenly realized he wasn't nearly as rich as he thought.

A Sony A7RV body cost 25,999 yuan; with a lens, the total came to 60,000.

"Damn, this is robbery. Turns out the netizens were right—single-lens reflexes ruin your life."

In the end, Qin Yun gritted his teeth and bought one anyway—but it was a Canon, total cost under 50,000 yuan. Two lenses: one portrait prime, one telephoto zoom—more than enough for his needs.

After stowing the camera bag, Qin Yun returned to the hotel, ready to rest for the night and depart Beijing tomorrow, beginning his official journey to Zhejiang.

Life—a new beginning!