Chapter 28

Initially, Lü Rui wasn’t particularly invested, but as Qin Yun dismantled the motorcycle with fluid precision, it was soon fully disassembled—he barely had time to react.

After a thorough inspection, Qin Yun sighed.

Hearing his sigh, Lü Rui stepped forward and asked, “Mr. Qin, what’s the situation?”

Qin Yun stood up and shook his head. “The engine block and crankcase are catastrophically shattered; the internal fuel and electrical lines are completely burned out. There’s no point repairing it—unless you replace every single component inside. I assume the manufacturer already told you that?”

Lü Rui was deeply disappointed and nodded. “Yes, the manufacturer said only replacement is possible, and they also confirmed there’s no repair value at all.”

Qin Yun tapped the side seat, then said thoughtfully, “Complete restoration is impossible—these are two fatal, core engine damages. But I can achieve static restoration.”

Han Sisi immediately asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means I can manually reassemble the engine to make it look exactly as if it never had an accident—but only externally. It won’t run, won’t deliver fuel, won’t ignite. I believe, as a motorcycle with spiritual value, its original appearance matters more than its functionality, doesn’t it?”

“...”

Lü Rui fell into thought. Since last year, they’d poured immense effort into restoring this motorcycle, but everyone told them it was hopeless—unless they replaced it. But if they replaced it, was it still Wu’s mount?

“Really can’t ignite it?”

Qin Yun paused briefly. “Since this is a manual emergency repair, precision can’t be perfect. Ignition is likely to fail.”

Lü Rui perked up. “Try anyway. Whether it works or not, it’s fine—but please, Mr. Qin, do your best to get it to ignite, even just once.”

“I’ll do my best.”

To be honest, Qin Yun had no confidence at all.

The internal damage to this engine was far worse than his Land Rover’s. His Land Rover’s engine internals were still intact; this one had been burned through—repairing it would require replacing nearly all components.

“This place isn’t suitable for repairs. Do you have a partnered repair shop? We can tow the bike there.”

Qin Yun glanced around the warehouse.

“We do,” Lü Rui nodded. “What else do you need? Tell me—I’ll have someone prepare it.”

Qin Yun thought, examined the motorcycle again, then didn’t hesitate: “Give me two of your scrapped motorcycles—same engine model.”

“No problem,” Lü Rui agreed at once, then suddenly remembered something.

“Mr. Qin, aren’t you the one who rescued people on the Jing-Tai Expressway?”

Qin Yun looked startled. “Officer Lü, how do you know?”

Lü Rui slapped his palm and laughed. “I thought you looked familiar but couldn’t place it. I saw your photo accidentally on the internal network.”

Beside them, Han Sisi blinked, studying Qin Yun with curiosity. “Captain, what’s going on?”

Lü Rui recounted how Qin Yun had risked his life rescuing people on the Jing-Tai Expressway. By the halfway point, Han Sisi already remembered—it had been widely publicized.

Still, Han Sisi pulled out her phone, searched for the video, compared it to Qin Yun in person—and confirmed it was the same man.

“I admire you,” she said respectfully. “Mr. Qin, you’re truly brave. Most people wouldn’t risk being caught in the danger to save others.”

“Haha, I didn’t think much about it—just had some strength.”

Lü Rui said, “It’s not just strength. I read the report—it said the force needed to pry open that door isn’t something an ordinary person could manage.”

He didn’t look particularly muscular, yet possessed such immense strength.

Qin Yun smiled and didn’t elaborate further. He pointed to the pile of parts. “Please have the items I need delivered to the repair shop.”

“Alright. I’m free right now. Do you have other plans today?”

Qin Yun shook his head. “I’ll go with you directly. I’m in Hangzhou for leisure—after this, I’m returning to Zhoushan.”

“Thank you for your trouble.”

Soon, under Lü Rui’s arrangements, someone came to haul away all the motorcycle’s parts. Qin Yun rode in Lü Rui’s private car, following the truck to the repair shop.

As for Han Sisi, she had to work the afternoon shift, so after confirming the plan, she left on her own.

The repair shop wasn’t far from the traffic police station—less than ten minutes by car.

Lü Rui had clearly called ahead; a dedicated workspace had been reserved, and two identical motorcycles were already parked outside—flat tires, covered in dust, as if dug up from some forgotten corner.

Seeing Qin Yun’s gaze fixed on the two motorcycles, Lü Rui smiled. “We have plenty of scrapped bikes. They’re destroyed in batches, usually kept no longer than a year—only bikes with exceptional significance are preserved.”

Qin Yun nodded slightly, his eyes shifting to the unloading crew. “I estimate it’ll be done by tomorrow afternoon. If you’re busy, don’t bother staying.”

“Alright,” Lü Rui said, scratching his head apologetically. “Since this is our team’s private matter, reimbursement isn’t possible—but we won’t shortchange you. How much do you think it’ll cost?”

Qin Yun shook his head seriously. “Officer Lü, I’m just a civilian. I’ve always respected martyrs like Wu. Helping you restore his motorcycle is my honor—please don’t mention money.”

“That’s not right… you…”

Lü Rui was moved, but his position told him he couldn’t accept this.

“If you insist on paying, I’ll leave. Find someone else.”

Soon, the truck was unloaded; Qin Yun and Lü Rui walked over, greeted the auto shop owner, then Lü Rui pointed to the young traffic officer unloading cargo and said, “Little Lin is Wu Team Leader’s apprentice—he’s been assigned to assist you these two days.”

Soon, the truck was unloaded. Qin Yun and Lü Rui walked over, greeted the shop owner, and Lü Rui pointed to the young traffic officer unloading. “Little Lin is Wu’s apprentice—he’ll assist you the whole time.”

Little Lin stared at the parts, eyes slightly wet. He bowed deeply to Qin Yun. “Mr. Qin, I beg you.”

Saying this, he squatted down, his fingertips tracing the cracks on the engine block, planned the repair sequence in his mind, then picked up a chisel and hammer and began striking off the shattered fragments along the cracked edge.

He knelt down, traced the cracks on the engine block with his fingertips, planned his repair sequence, then picked up a chisel and hammer and began chipping away the shattered fragments along the edges.

Watching Qin Yun work, Little Lin asked, “Mr. Qin, can you really fix it? I’m not doubting you—but the manufacturer said it’s beyond repair.”

Qin Yun didn’t look up, hammering steadily. “It won’t run. I can’t guarantee ignition. I’ll just do my best.”

Little Lin nodded, his gaze sweeping over the parts. This motorcycle had accompanied his master through every alley and street around West Lake—the morning mist on Beishan Street, the evening glow on Su Causeway—all had reflected his master’s patrol Shenying .

Restoration began with disassembly and cleaning. Though the bike had been processed, for some reason, it hadn’t been repainted—so many joints were visibly mismatched.

He ignored those. His focus was solely on the engine.

He asked Little Lin for sandpaper and began meticulously polishing the rough edges of the block and crankcase, removing charred grime to reveal the original aluminum alloy sheen. He sorted the broken fragments, aligning those that could be rejoined; those irreparable, he replaced with cut high-strength alloy plates—this was why he’d mentioned precision limitations.

The block reassembly was trickier. After inspection, Qin Yun asked Little Lin if the shop had suitable U-shaped steel clamps. The ones brought were unusable, so he drew blueprints and had Little Lin find a specialist to forge them.

By the time Little Lin returned with the forged U-clamps, Qin Yun had already repaired the crankcase using mixed epoxy resin and fine copper powder. Externally, no damage was visible. For the bent crankshaft and connecting rods, he simply removed a working set from a scrapped engine and installed it.

Taking the U-clamps from Little Lin, Qin Yun secured them along the crack lines in segments, then drove copper rivets into pre-drilled holes with a hammer—rivets piercing both clamp and block, firmly locking fragments to the main body.

But this assembly was clearly unusable—he still needed to seal the block.

Time flew in the midst of labor. Before they knew it, the day had slipped away.

…

The next day, whether Lü Rui had leaked it or Han Sisi had spread it, Qin Yun arrived to find several traffic officers waiting, all watching him with eager anticipation.

Little Lin stepped forward, embarrassed. “Mr. Qin, after word got out yesterday, many comrades wanted to see the restoration… I hope we’re not disturbing you.”

Qin Yun waved his hand. “No problem.”

He greeted the group. “You can come back this afternoon—around three or four, everything should be fully assembled.”

“Thank you, Mr. Qin.”

“Thank you for your hard work, Mr. Qin.”

Qin Yun nodded and resumed work.

He first checked the block and crankshaft. The block was certainly unfit for road use—its fractures had destroyed airtightness. Even with his special sealing, it was useless.

But externally, the block now looked intact.

“Little Lin, check if the painting’s done.”

“Got it—I’ll go right away.”

Little Lin had watched Qin Yun all day yesterday—he was awestruck. He’d never imagined repairing a bike could be so fluid. Every motion of Mr. Qin seemed to follow natural principles—no wasted movement, unmatched efficiency.

While Little Lin was away, Qin Yun turned to the burned fuel and electrical lines. The fuel lines were beyond repair—he’d have to scavenge from a scrapped engine. For the electrical system, he cut out all melted wiring and replaced them with matching segments from another scrapped engine, precisely reconnecting each one.

The carbonized ECU—he opened it, glanced inside, and tossed it out. Had to be replaced.

That’s why the manufacturer said replacement was better than repair—most parts needed replacing anyway. Why not just use new ones?

Especially the block—you’ve shattered it. How do you repair it? Even if you fix it, it won’t work.

But the traffic team insisted the block remain original—it bore the vehicle’s steel stamp, matching their records, unique. Replace it, and the whole meaning vanished. It was their stubborn devotion.

Sunset fell on the ground. The once-shattered engine now looked utterly renewed. When the officers saw the engine fully reassembled, they erupted in cheers.

“Mr. Qin…” Lü Rui watched, moved.

Qin Yun stood. “You can install it—but I advise against igniting it. The original block was a single casting; no reinforcement can restore its original integrity. Many internal parts are hand-fabricated—precision can’t match factory standards…”

Lü Rui nodded firmly. “We’ve discussed it—we won’t ignite it. We’ll just seal it as-is. But can we power it up?”

“Powering it up is fine.”

Qin Yun could guarantee that—he’d meticulously repaired every wire himself.

Soon, after the engine was fully installed, the motorcycle stood restored.

The crowd cheered wildly. Little Lin’s eyes welled up as he held the key, looking to Qin Yun. Qin Yun nodded—no problem. Little Lin inserted it, turned it—the accessories powered on, dashboard lights glowed. He turned it again—fuel pump hummed softly, then the entire electrical system activated: gauges self-tested, warning lights blinked on.

“Mr. Qin, thank you so much.”

Lü Rui watched, deeply touched, and spoke with heartfelt gratitude.

Qin Yun knew—he’d earned the West Lake traffic police’s friendship. Who knew? Maybe next time he parked illegally, he wouldn’t even get a ticket. Ha.