Chapter 27: Carpentry Skill

Without waiting for the driver’s response, Qin Yun squeezed his way over.

The driver opened his mouth but said nothing—he knew it was well-intentioned. Yet the woman beside him, utterly ungrateful, muttered coldly: “If the driver doesn’t know how to fix it, what’s a young kid like you doing playing expert? You’ll break the car and end up bankrupting yourself.”

Qin Yun ignored her, inspected the vehicle, and quickly found the problem.

“Master, the negative ground wire has come loose, cutting off the current return path—this shut down the ignition and fuel injection systems. Go get a wrench, tighten the bolt, and it’ll be fine.”

Seeing Qin Yun speak with such confidence, the driver beamed: “Bro, you really know this stuff?”

“Hurry and get it—fix it fast so traffic can clear up.”

As he spoke, a female traffic officer walked over.

“Master, what’s going on? Stuck again? The road’s completely jammed.”

The driver hurriedly replied: “It’ll move, it’ll move—this guy says he can fix it. I’m going to grab a wrench.”

He disappeared into the bus and returned moments later with a wrench, handing it to Qin Yun.

Qin Yun took the wrench, glanced at the female officer, and was slightly startled—were all female traffic officers in Hangzhou this beautiful? Her figure and face were nearly on par with Jiang Chuji.

But he didn’t stare long—he reached into the engine compartment and quickly resecured the ground wire with the wrench.

Then he told the driver: “Master, try starting the engine.”

“Got it.”

The driver returned to the driver’s seat; many onlookers watched hopefully. A moment later, the engine roared to life.

“Whoa… it started, it started!”

“This guy’s amazing—he just looked twice and found the problem!”

“Awesome!”

The driver stepped down and thanked Qin Yun profusely. As for the nagging middle-aged woman, she had long since slipped back inside the bus.

Once passengers boarded, the bus pulled away, and traffic smoothly returned to normal.

Qin Yun glanced at the female officer who hadn’t left, and asked: “Officer, is there something you need?”

Han Sisi snapped back to attention and quickly shook her head: “No, no, nothing.”

Seeing her hesitate, Qin Yun chuckled: “Officer, if you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

Han Sisi nervously adjusted her cap brim: “Uh… can you fix motorcycles?”

…

The sun dipped below the horizon, cloaking Nanping Mountain in twilight. Inside Jingci Temple, Qin Yun stood before the main gate, its vermilion paint faded and peeling. He climbed the stone steps, their surfaces worn pale by time, flanked by lush camphor trees. At this hour, the temple still teemed with visitors, coming and going.

As Qin Yun walked near the bell tower, a deep, resonant bell toll rang out—so profound it made him stop in his tracks.

The bell’s tone, unhurried and steady, echoed over eaves and arches, swept across Nanping Mountain’s emerald shadows, then drifted toward the distant waters of West Lake. Listening, Qin Yun felt his entire being calm—his inner restlessness washed clean.

Occasional monks in gray robes passed by, their steps slow and light, as if existing in a different dimension from the tourists.

Qin Yun didn’t proceed further—he found a spot nearby and sat down. He listened to the chorus of insects, the rustle of wind through leaves, and looked up: night had already draped the sky.

The Evening Bell of Nanping—its lingering resonance filled Qin Yun with a unique Zen tranquility, and his mood naturally eased.

After activating the “Evening Bell of Nanping” icon, Qin Yun walked onto Su Causeway. Under the night sky, the causeway glowed with vintage palace lanterns, their light filtering through branches to cast dappled shadows on the stone path.

A cool evening breeze brushed the lake’s surface, stirring ripples; occasionally, cyclists passed with the crisp chime of bells.

He walked the length of Su Causeway, gazing at Twin Peaks in the distance, pausing to admire the full expanse of lotus leaves. When the full moon hung high, he sat at a teahouse, gazing up at the moon, then down at its reflection—experiencing the beauty of “a lake of molten gold dissolving autumn”—before strolling across Broken Bridge, waiting quietly until the icon lit up, completing his check-in task effortlessly.

【Check-in task completed. Random reward obtained: Carpentry Skill +1】

【Carpentry Skill LV1: Wood Identification and Shaping, Precision Joinery, Masterful Craftsmanship】

In an instant, knowledge of carpentry and manual dexterity, as if unsealed, flooded Qin Yun’s mind—within one minute, he transformed from a complete novice into a master craftsman.

Hardwood, softwood, rosewood, huanghuali, ink lines, Lu Ban rulers, dove-tail joints, shoulder joints—all carpentry knowledge came to him effortlessly. Even wood carving—he suddenly knew how to do it too. It was absurd.

Feeling a warmth in his hands, the change felt as real as if he’d lived it his whole life—his instincts now surged with tactile certainty. Qin Yun knew that if he wished, he could walk into the wilderness, gather materials, and build a house with ease.

“Awesome!”

That was all Qin Yun could say.

Now, his skills were accumulating steadily over time.

Motor vehicle repair, photography, instrument repair, rock climbing, botany, zoology, carpentry—soon, he’d become a jack-of-all-trades.

The thought struck him, and suddenly, a spark of inspiration flashed.

“I could gradually showcase every skill I’ve learned in my videos. That way, my niche would be utterly unique. No one else in the world could possibly match me—unless they, too, had a system.”

The idea felt so strong, so promising, that Qin Yun knew it was worth pursuing.

“Ding ling ling~”

At that moment, his phone rang—it was Su Huan calling.

“Hey, Qin Yun, are you back at the hotel?”

“I’m still at West Lake—heading out for dinner. You off work yet?”

“Yeah, just finished.”

“That’s late—it’s almost ten.”

“Not bad. I’m used to it.”

“Right, the 996 blessing.”

After a few more minutes of chat, Su Huan asked: “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

Qin Yun remembered his promise to the female motorcyclist outside Leifeng Pagoda: “I promised a friend I’d fix her bike tomorrow. After that, I’m heading back to Zhoushan—I’ll come find you for dinner before I leave.”

“Alright,” Su Huan said, not pressing further.

After hanging up, Qin Yun noticed his friend request to Fang Nan had been accepted. Even more, Fang Nan had sent a message at 5 p.m.: “Master, I’m Fang Nan. Here’s my photo—please advise.”

The photo showed Fang Nan’s full figure—just as Su Huan had said, her body was stunning, her long legs longer than most people’s life lines. Though she had short hair, she radiated unmistakable femininity.

Especially her features—they rivaled Su Huan’s.

Thinking back, Qin Yun realized every woman he’d met lately was stunning. He wasn’t sure if it was luck or if the world had simply changed.

Qin Yun replied: “Hello, Fang Nan.”

She must’ve been holding her phone—she replied instantly: “Master, what’s your next video about?”

Qin Yun had no idea himself: “Not decided yet—I’ll tell you when I do.”

“Got it,” Fang Nan said. “Master, can I give you a suggestion?”

“Go ahead.”

“Can you please keep your videos in landscape mode from now on?”

“Uh… sure, no problem.”

“Master, you’re so easygoing. Weren’t you scared climbing Shanfan Cliff? Just watching your video made my heart race.”

“It’s not as scary as it seems—basically, it’s just practice,” Qin Yun said offhandedly.

“Master, you’re so funny.”

Qin Yun noticed she kept calling him “Master,” and said: “Can you stop calling me Master? Just call me by my name.”

“Then I’ll call you Yun Ge—okay?”

“Just don’t call me Master. Anything else is fine.”

From the conversation, Fang Nan seemed outgoing and talkative—if he didn’t stop her, she’d keep going nonstop.

After ending the chat, Qin Yun returned to his car, drove out of the West Lake area, and picked a random restaurant for dinner.

After eating, he checked the location sent by the female motorcyclist and found a hotel nearby.

…

The next morning, Qin Yun left his hotel and walked toward the West Lake District Traffic Police Brigade.

As soon as he entered the gate, he saw a sharp, commanding figure standing before the building—she spotted him and hurried over.

“Mr. Qin, thank you for coming. Have you had breakfast? Would you like to join us in the cafeteria?”

Qin Yun nodded readily: “Of course—I’ve never eaten in a traffic police cafeteria before.”

Han Sisi smiled and gestured toward the rear: “Mr. Qin, follow me this way. I told the team about your repair skills yesterday—our squad leader wants to meet you beforehand.”

Qin Yun understood immediately: Han Sisi’s superior clearly didn’t trust him. But that was normal—after all, the manufacturer had declared the bike beyond repair.

“Of course,” Qin Yun nodded. “That’s only fair.”

Qin Yun had agreed to help Han Sisi not for any reward—he’d done it solely because of the story behind the scrapped motorcycle.

Yesterday, Han Sisi had said: Last year, the West Lake District Traffic Police Brigade suffered a serious accident. The officer on duty—Wu Moumou—deliberately used his motorcycle to block a runaway vehicle, protecting the lives and property of civilians.

The accident cost Wu Moumou his life. The motorcycle was nearly destroyed.

The brigade sent the bike to a repair shop. Everything else could be fixed, but the engine was beyond repair—even the manufacturer refused to fix it, only offering a replacement. They could’ve just stored it away, but everyone in the brigade felt uneasy—time and again, they’d bring in people to see if it could be saved.

It wasn’t about getting the bike back on the road. It was because this motorcycle, like Wu Moumou, had sacrificed on the front line. If there was any chance to restore it—even if it remained stored—they wanted to preserve it intact.

That was why Qin Yun hadn’t refused outright—he’d agreed to come today. But he gave no guarantees.

After breakfast, outside the brigade’s logistics warehouse, Qin Yun met the squad leader of the Traffic Order Unit—Lv Rui. A man in his early forties, sharp-eyed and broad-shouldered, with a thick beard.

“Mr. Qin, thank you for coming.”

Qin Yun shook his hand: “Squad Leader Lv, you’re too kind.”

“You look familiar. What do you do?”

Qin Yun paused—he’d lived in Beijing for years. How would this man recognize him? But he brushed it off as small talk.

“I studied computer engineering. Now I drive around, exploring the country’s landscapes, and I’m trying my hand at self-media.”

Lv Rui silently shook his head—he’d already given up hope that Qin Yun could fix the bike.

But since the man had come, he couldn’t just send him away—he’d at least let him take a look, hoping Qin Yun would give up on his own.

"Mr. Qin, this way, please."

Qin Yun and Han Sisi followed Lu Rui into the warehouse, where they soon saw a motorcycle covered by a tarp. As Lu Rui pulled back the tarp, a motorcycle with obvious signs of forced assembly came into view before Qin Yun.

The vehicle had clearly been overhauled, but many parts were crudely welded together; only some plastic panels had been replaced. The engine area was a mess.

Qin Yun walked up to the motorcycle and, seeing tools nearby, said: "Mind if I inspect it inside and out?"

Lu Rui nodded: "Of course."