Chapter 4: A Place for Skills to Shine

After daydreaming for a while, Qin Yun, in a great mood, took out his phone and called Song Ya.

But the line kept busy, and Song Ya never picked up. He checked the time, then slapped his forehead in sudden realization—what an idiot, it was only 7:30 in the morning; how could Song Ya possibly be awake.

Monday through Friday, as long as there wasn't anything too urgent to do, Song Ya would sleep until eleven, elegantly calling it "sleeping until you wake up naturally" so her endocrine system stayed balanced and she wouldn't age easily.

During her sleeping hours, Song Ya's phone was basically on Do Not Disturb—only her parents and a few close girlfriends could get through, and he was clearly not on that list.

He set down his phone helplessly and sent Song Ya a WeChat message, asking if she had time today to go to the Minzheng Bureau to handle the application. After all, divorce now had a thirty-day cooling-off period, and if either party changed their mind during that time, they could withdraw at any moment—simply incomprehensible.

Of course, the best and fastest way was just to file a lawsuit, but a lawsuit required one party to refuse the divorce, or some other issue.

Under normal circumstances, you could only go through an uncontested divorce.

He wasn't really afraid Song Ya would refuse to divorce—at worst he'd just go straight to litigation, which would actually be faster. What he feared was that right before the thirty-day cooling-off period ended, the other party would suddenly withdraw the divorce application, and even if he sued afterward, it would still be a waste of thirty days.

Just then, the system notification sounded again.

【Check-in Task Issued: Please arrive at the flag-raising viewing point directly south of Tiananmen Square on August 1st and watch one complete Grand Flag-Raising Ceremony. That counts as a successful check-in.】

Qin Yun immediately pulled up the system panel. He saw another light spot on the map; zooming in clearly showed the location—Tiananmen Square.

It was the end of July now, only a few days until the first. He'd been in Beijing for so many years and had come to watch the flag-raising a few times, but he had never actually attended a Grand Flag-Raising Ceremony.

Because there were too many people, and he wasn't the type who liked crowded places.

But now, for the system's check-in, he had to go whether he wanted to or not. He'd just treat it as a proper, complete experience.

He opened the mini-program in his WeChat app and, lucky enough, there were still reservations available.

After booking the flag-raising ceremony viewing spot, Qin Yun planned to look into cars. Although the compensation and wages hadn't arrived yet, he knew the money would be far from enough. Still, the biggest expense of the trip was something he didn't want to skimp on—and couldn't anyway.

To get a vehicle that could carry him everywhere, it was either a new car or a used one. He ruled out new-energy vehicles outright—charging was a hassle traveling all over the country, and in remote areas there simply weren't any charging stations.

Qin Yun didn't know much about cars; at most he knew the various brands and some basic surface-level knowledge, like what certain numbers represented.

So, following the principle that one person's plan is short while many people's is long, he posted a thread on the local forum.

【What kind of car can satisfy my traveling all over the country? Budget: 150,000】

It was a local forum with high activity. Within minutes of posting, people were already replying.

"Haval Big Dog, 150k can get you the top trim. High chassis, no worries on rough roads, low fuel consumption, big trunk, cheap maintenance, and if something goes wrong you can get it fixed anywhere. I drove a Big Dog on the Sichuan-Tibet-Qinghai-Gansu route, not a single issue!"

"An off-roader for 150k still counts as a car? OP, why not chip in a bit more and get a Bronco—that's a real car."

"I'd suggest an F-150 Raptor. An eighteenth-hand Raptor can be had for as little as 100k landed."

"What are you even thinking with 150k? Get a Wuling Hongguang, convert it into a camper, and use the rest for gas and food—sounds great, right? Built tough, won't hurt if you scrape or bump it, and dirt cheap to fix."

Some of these replies were jokes, some were serious answers. As Qin Yun read through them one by one and the replies kept piling up, he found that half the people suggested he try his luck at the used car market.

After all, his requirement was a car that could handle traveling all over the country, and some of the places he was going would definitely need off-road capability, so the most important things were reliability and excellent off-road performance.

But trying to buy a suitable new car for 150k wasn't easy—the options were basically just Haval, BJ, and a few others. Especially BJ—he actually had a good impression of it; he'd once watched a movie called Wolf Warrior, and the car Wu Jing was driving all over Africa was a BJ.

Even though he knew movies were dramatized, it at least showed the car had decent off-road performance.

If the used car market didn't have anything suitable, he planned to go check out Haval and BJ.

Qin Yun looked it up: Beijing's biggest used car market was in Fengtai District, not close to where he was. At the same time, this used car market was also the largest in Asia. Since he was going to look, naturally he'd go to the biggest one.

He hailed a car and headed straight for his destination.

With a limited budget, Qin Yun's goals were clear: first, durability; second, ease of repair; third, comfort.

After Qin Yun told the salesperson his requirements, the other party quickly recommended several cars that fit.

"Bro, this 2021 Tank 300—look, only 60,000 kilometers on it, you can take it for just 140k. Body-on-frame construction, part-time 4WD, front and rear differential locks, and only 13 liters per 100 kilometers…"

The salesperson was talking himself hoarse, but Qin Yun only caught a few words: 140k, 13 liters—he didn't take in a single other word.

Comparing the fuel consumption at this price point, Qin Yun felt that after buying the car, the money he had left might not even get him to Zhejiang.

Afterward, the salesperson kept recommending more—domestic ones, as well as joint-venture and imported ones, like the Mitsubishi Pajero, Jeep Wrangler, and Ford Everest.

These could all meet his requirements, but the mileage was just too high—all over 100,000 kilometers.

Hearing Qin Yun's concerns, the salesperson said: "Bro, for Wranglers and Pajeros, 100,000 kilometers is just past the break-in period."

Qin Yun held back the urge to roll his eyes and didn't argue with him—mainly because his pockets were empty, and today was really just about getting a feel for the situation.

After wandering through a few used car shops and getting a sense of the market, Qin Yun temporarily shelved the idea of buying a used car and slinked away in a taxi.

Not long after the car left the used car market, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID—it was Song Ya calling.

He tapped to answer, and a cold voice came through: "Tomorrow afternoon at 1:30, Minzheng Bureau."

After saying that, she hung up directly.

Staring at his black-screened phone, Qin Yun gave a wry smile. This was fine too—clean and decisive, parting ways from here on out. He was actually afraid Song Ya would make a hysterical scene.

"BANG—!"

Just then, Qin Yun suddenly heard a huge crash. He quickly looked out the window. Not far away, a black Mercedes had sideswiped a truck and slammed hard into the guardrail.

The car door was deformed, the trunk popped open, and a large object wrapped in a custom shockproof instrument case tumbled to the ground. The case's clasps burst open, revealing a cello of an amber color inside.

The owner was a finely dressed middle-aged woman. Ignoring the dizziness from the airbag, she got out of the car, rushed over, and flipped open the case. Her eyes immediately reddened: "My Guarneri—the body is cracked. I'm supposed to perform with it the day after tomorrow!"

"Tch, tch, good thing it's the Mercedes' fault—otherwise that truck driver would probably be ruined."

The ride-hailing driver pulled his gaze back and muttered a comment.

Qin Yun looked at the scene in the distance, and a memory suddenly stirred in his mind. He thought for a moment, then said to the driver: "Driver, just pull over at the bus stop up ahead. I just remembered I have something to take care of—charge me the full fare."

The driver had been a bit annoyed at first, but Qin Yun's last sentence made him swallow his words, and he obediently pulled over by the bus stop.

Getting out and crossing the traffic light, Qin Yun found that the accident scene was already surrounded by onlookers. The middle-aged woman was on the phone—not calling the insurance company or the police, but a violin shop.

"Yes, the top plate is cracked, the sound post is broken inside the body—what, half a month? No, my daughter has to perform the day after tomorrow. Can you rush it? I'll pay 300,000."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter how much money there is? Where's your master craftsman?"

Listening to the woman's anxious voice, Qin Yun's gaze passed through the crowd to the ground—a cello, and a century-old Italian handcrafted one at that, market price around 1.6 million.

Now the body was cracked, the sound post broken, the bridge collapsed—nearly half-wrecked. Even an experienced violin shop wouldn't find it easy to repair; the half-month the woman was told on the phone wasn't wrong. Of course, that was for other people—for him, as long as he had the tools, he could handle it in a few hours.

Just from a single glance, Qin Yun truly appreciated how powerful the abilities the system had given him were. These fields he had never touched before now felt as easy as picking up a coin, as natural as innate abilities—terrifyingly strong.

"... Then hurry up, take the cello back first. I don't dare touch it. I'll wait for you here."

The woman hung up the phone, ignored the onlookers, and called the insurance company and the traffic police. Only then did she feel her head aching a little, the whole person somewhat dizzy. She held onto the car and stood for a while before feeling slightly better.

Qin Yun did not act rashly; he was looking for an opportunity.

A quarter of an hour later, a car stopped by the roadside, and a middle-aged man of about fifty hurried over. Clearly the woman knew him; she quickly stepped forward and grabbed his arm, anxiously saying: "Master Xu, you've finally come, please help me take a look."

Master Xu came to the cello case, observed carefully for a moment, then shook his head repeatedly: "The top plate is cracked all the way through, the sound post is also broken. Half a month is still an understatement. Playing with this cello the day after tomorrow is out of the question. Ms. Shen should just go to a music shop and find another one to substitute."

The woman's eyes reddened: "Money is not the issue, but I can't wait that long. If we switch to another cello, my daughter won't agree."

Master Xu sighed; he also knew the woman was anxious, but reality was just like this.

And just at this moment, a young voice suddenly came over.

"This lady, I can repair this cello."

Master Xu, Ms. Shen, and the onlookers gathered nearby all looked at the speaker in unison, and discovered it was actually a young man with handsome features and a tall, imposing build.

Everyone was stunned. Master Xu from the music shop sneered even more: "Young man, don't talk big. This is a hundred-year-old Guarneri cello, not fixing an erhu or a jinghu. The hidden damage inside the cello's body can't be seen. If you ruin it while repairing, can you afford to compensate?"

"Guarneri? Seems like a cello worth millions."

"Just looking at it, it's ruined. How could it still be repaired? This young man's got some nerve, daring to take on something like this."

The clamor of the onlookers reached his ears. Qin Yun smiled, paid them no mind, walked to the cello, lightly touched the body with his fingertips, then tapped the resonating chamber, and understood in his heart. This damage looked frightening, but it was merely a top-plate crack along the grain, a broken sound post, and a collapsed bridge—all routine collision damage for a cello. It looked difficult, but for the current him, there was not the slightest difficulty.

He spoke lightly to the middle-aged woman: "I can repair it, but I need tools. If I fail and damage the cello's body, I'll compensate. If I fix it, you pay what you think is fair. How about it?"

The woman, desperate enough to try anything, gritted her teeth and nodded: "As long as you can fix it, I'll give you 200,000 yuan. As for tools—Master Xu, could the tools from your shop be lent to this gentleman for use?"

Master Xu shrugged, just about to speak, when the traffic police and the insurance company also arrived at about the same time.