Chapter 126

Qin Yun hadn't received a check-in task this easy in a long time—just walking.

The last few tasks had been deserts, ice mountains, or skiing—extreme challenges. Now, back in Beijing, he got another relaxed check-in task.

Thinking it over, aside from his failed marriage, Beijing really had been his lucky place.

His first task required only a bus ride; the second, watching the flag-raising ceremony; the third, a bit harder—climbing the Great Wall.

Today was the fourth task: fifty Forbidden City check-ins? Just a side effect of sightseeing.

This task was like free money.

Qin Yun's earlier gloom vanished instantly; his mood was brilliant.

He'd planned to leave today, but now he'd stay a few more days.

He went downstairs, checked out at the hotel front desk, and took a taxi straight to the Forbidden City.

But the car hadn't driven ten minutes before an unexpected WeChat message changed his route.

"Driver, don't go to the Forbidden City. Take me to Beijing Runyuan instead."

The driver said nothing; he turned right immediately instead of continuing straight.

"Brother, you live in Runyuan? That's a luxury compound…"

Qin Yun shook his head and smiled: "I couldn't afford to live there. I've got a business there—I'm just visiting a client."

"Oh, I see." The driver gave him a look that said, You don't look like a rich guy. "People there are either rich or powerful—super wealthy. Brother, your business must be big. I wonder…"

Beijing drivers were famous for talking nonstop. Qin Yun had lived there years—he was used to it. Let him ramble; it wouldn't kill anyone.

An hour and a half later, Qin Yun met Zhao Lingsu again at her home.

Months had passed, yet she still glowed—no sign she was a mother of two. Money truly kept people young.

"Uncle Qin."

Seeing Qin Yun, Zhao Lingsu's two children, Zhao Yiyan and Zhao Yiyu, rushed over immediately, their expressions filled with admiration—completely different from last time.

Especially Zhao Yiyan, the mushroom-headed boy—his sycophantic expression was painfully obvious.

Besides the three of them and the household servants, there was also an elderly man, around sixty, dressed plainly, with a refined demeanor.

After greetings were exchanged, Zhao Lingsu introduced them.

"Mr. Qin, this is Master Zeng Yanming from the Forbidden City Cultural Relics Restoration Bureau. Master Zeng, this is Qin Yun, the musical instrument repair expert I told you about."

Zeng Yanming was, frankly, disappointed.

Though one shouldn't judge by appearance, Qin Yun was far too young—his expertise in ancient musical instrument restoration was clearly negligible. He probably couldn't even identify all ancient instruments, let alone restore them.

But out of courtesy to Zhao Lingsu, he agreed to meet him.

As expected, this young kid couldn't possibly be an expert in ancient instrument restoration—Zhao Lingsu had been deceived.

He squinted at Qin Yun, scrutinizing him: "How old are you? Do you even understand ancient instrument restoration?"

Qin Yun clearly saw the man's distrust, but he didn't feel offended—normal people would doubt him.

He chuckled: "Greetings, Master Zeng. I know a bit about instrument repair—not much, but enough to make a living."

Others could question him—he wouldn't be humble. Too much humility would make them believe him even less.

Zeng Yanming's lip twitched. Kid's putting on an act.

He didn't hold back, pulled out his phone, and showed several photos: "That's perfect. I've got a few troublesome instruments needing repair. Please, young Qin, lend your expertise."

Qin Yun took the phone and examined the photos closely.

He didn't underrate himself, nor did he overrate—he knew his repair skill was only Master-level. He couldn't claim to surpass many senior restorers at the Forbidden City.

His only advantage: the system's repair skill covered all eras—ancient and modern.

Many ancient restoration methods had been lost in modern times.

The photos, wide-angle and close-up, were crystal clear—every texture visible.

He studied them back and forth; the problems with this ancient qin emerged clearly in his mind.

"This is a Song dynasty qin," Qin Yun said.

Zeng Yanming didn't care—if he couldn't even tell it was a Song dynasty qin, he should just leave.

"From appearance, the lacquer is intact, no obvious damage, shape regular—no visible flaws."

Zhao Lingsu nodded: "Master Zeng showed me too. I think this qin is fine. To survive from the Song Dynasty with such condition is already rare."

Zeng Yanming said nothing, just watched Qin Yun silently.

Qin Yun smiled inwardly—he figured the old man thought he was a fraud.

He pinched the photo to zoom in, fixing on a smooth lacquer surface: "Master Zeng, based on my expertise, the lacquer and wooden body of this qin have almost certainly suffered large-scale hidden delamination."

Zeng Yanming's eyes widened slightly with surprise: "Correct. How did you know?"

"What does that mean?" Zhao Lingsu didn't understand Qin Yun's words.

Qin Yun explained: "It's commonly called 'hollow lacquer'—the surface feels smooth, but internally it's delaminated."

Zeng Yanming now dropped his suspicion.

To spot this lacquer flaw at a glance—even though the man was young—Zeng Yanming still owed him full respect. That kind of observational skill was top-tier even at the Forbidden City.

"Another issue: any ancient qin surviving from the Song Dynasty must have rotted internal sound beams. So the resonance structure is definitely broken—meaning it can't be played."

Zeng Yanming was even more astonished—this man understood the qin in three sentences.

"And here's the most obvious." Qin Yun pointed to the photo's "wild goose foot" area: "This is the qin's stress core—but the interior here is fractured. If you string it, it'll snap immediately."

Now Zeng Yanming could barely contain his excitement.

"Correct, young man. You're right—the wild goose foot of the Hanquan qin did crack. It snapped once when strung; now it's just externally disguised."

"We checked with X-ray and endoscopy. Hanquan's exterior looks fine, but the problems are severe. If we only preserved its appearance, no one would object—but a qin must be playable. As you said, its wooden body has hidden cracks, the Yue Shan and soundboard joint has micro-cracks and subsidence, and centuries of decay have rendered it nearly useless."

Qin Yun nodded: "You're right, Master. This qin is effectively ruined—bone cracked, skin stretched thin. Repairing it is extremely difficult. I'm familiar with the Forbidden City's restoration standards. Without opening the instrument or damaging the lacquer, repair is nearly impossible."

Zeng Yanming's expression darkened. He sighed slowly: "The Forbidden City has many such relics—unable to be displayed. We guard national treasures but can't restore them. We're truly unworthy of the nation's and people's trust."

He took the phone back.

"But this qin isn't beyond repair. Our culture is vast—ancient techniques existed for non-invasive internal repair and invisible damage restoration."

Zeng Yanming nodded slightly: "True. Ancient methods did exist—but they're lost. No complete records survive in ancient texts; only fragments remain. Tracing their origins is nearly impossible."

At that moment, Zhao Yiyu, the little girl, looked at Qin Yun and asked: "Uncle Qin, can you fix it?"

Instantly, everyone's eyes turned to Qin Yun—especially Zeng Yanming.

He'd assumed that if the Forbidden City couldn't master these ancient methods, how could a young kid like Qin Yun know them? But he'd forgotten: Zhao Lingsu had specifically brought him here because she said there was a musical instrument master who might help with ancient relic restoration.

Qin Yun rubbed his nose and nodded under Zeng Yanming's hopeful gaze: "Yes. I can fix it."

Zeng Yanming's pupils contracted sharply. He grabbed Qin Yun's arm, voice trembling: "Mr. Qin—is this true?"

"I wouldn't joke about this. I can indeed restore the Hanquan qin." Qin Yun now felt genuine interest—not just about money, but about participating in relic restoration. It seemed fascinating.

"Come on, follow me." Zeng Yanming pulled Qin Yun to leave.

Zhao Lingsu hurriedly said: "Master Zeng, let me send someone to drive you."

"Mom, I'm coming too! I'm coming too!" Mushroom-head Zhao Yiyan jumped up, cheering.

He was immediately shut down by Zhao Lingsu.

Qin Yun had planned to go to the Forbidden City for his check-in task. Since he could help now, he decided to delay the task for a while.

Riding in Zhao Lingsu's luxury car, Qin Yun was soon pulled by Zeng Yanming into the Forbidden City.

This time, of course, he didn't need to queue with tourists—he entered through a private gate, enjoying special privileges.

"Master Zeng, how many restoration staff are there in the Forbidden City?"

The Forbidden City was still the same—outside closed zones, everywhere was crowded. The two of them blended right in. No one could tell one was a Forbidden City restoration expert, the other the famed Qin Ye.

"Yes, our team is large and growing yearly—but restoration talent is scarce, hard to cultivate." He sighed slightly. "Now, training relies entirely on state funding. Everyone chases money—who still learns this? We still follow the master-apprentice model, but that method is clearly unsustainable and risks breaking the lineage."

It was just like intangible cultural heritage—if you can't even survive, who cares about inheritance?

"Our team has ten specialized restoration groups—covering painting, calligraphy, metal, ceramics, wood, textiles, lacquerware, clocks, and storage boxes. We're always busy, but every restoration takes forever."

Qin Yun nodded: "So ancient qin restoration falls under the lacquerware group?"

"Yes." Zeng Yanming said. "But if it's made of special materials—like bronze or iron qins—it goes to the metal restoration group."

Soon, they crossed stone paths and entered a restricted area through a closed gate.

"By the way, can I call you Xiao Qin?"

"Master Zeng, call me whatever you like."

"Haha, good." Zeng Yanming smiled. "Shall I first show you around the Forbidden City's restricted zones?"

Qin Yun quickly waved his hand—he could see Zeng Yanming's urgency and wouldn't be so clueless as to delay.

"No need. Sightseeing can wait. Let's see the qin first—I need to inspect it personally to confirm the issues."

"Alright. Let's get to work."