Chapter 5: Instrument Repair

After quickly handling the accident, the middle-aged woman surnamed Shen, Master Xu from the music shop, and Qin Yun got into Master Xu's car with the damaged cello.

After getting in the car, Master Xu glanced at Qin Yun in the front passenger seat and said with deep implication: "Young man, cello repair is a craft—not as simple as gluing a chair leg back on. This Guarneri is made from century-old wood; one misstep and you ruin the tone."

He said this to Qin Yun, but also to Ms. Shen.

Qin Yun smiled faintly and said calmly: "Master Xu, rest assured—I wouldn't have stepped forward if I weren't confident."

In the back seat, Ms. Shen's mind was a mess—she felt guilty for breaking her daughter's cello and anxious about whether it could be fixed. She clearly understood Master Xu's meaning, but if they waited until half a month later, the opportunity would be long gone.

Since Qin Yun said he could fix it, she had no objection to letting him earn the 200,000 yuan.

Fifteen minutes later, the car pulled up beside a music shop. The three got out, entered the shop, and Qin Yun and Ms. Shen were taken to the workshop.

"Old Xu, what's the situation?"

The shop manager stepped out of his office, greeted Ms. Shen, glanced at Qin Yun, then fixed his gaze on Master Xu.

Master Xu whispered a few words to him, causing the shop manager to furrow his brow.

His originally calm gaze toward Qin Yun now carried a hint of displeasure. But he didn't say anything harsh to his face; instead, he took a step aside to advise Ms. Shen.

"Ms. Shen, you know the value of this instrument. Even in Italy, there aren't many luthiers who could repair this level of damage within a day. This young man is so young—I'm not afraid he can't fix it, I'm afraid he'll break it further. Once broken further, it won't be just 200,000 yuan."

His words carried both advice and warning—the meaning was obvious. But after listening, Ms. Shen shook her head firmly.

"Manager Gu, it was my decision to have this young man repair the cello. Don't worry—whether it's fixed or not, it has nothing to do with your shop."

Seeing this, the shop manager nodded slightly and said no more. Since it was the owner's decision, he couldn't interfere. Besides, he knew a little about Ms. Shen's family—200,000 yuan meant nothing to them.

When the two returned, Qin Yun had already carefully inspected the cello's damage.

Surface cracks on the F-holes, a broken soundpost, a collapsed bridge, and a loose neck—four issues total. Under his Master-level instrument repair skill, these were effortlessly identified.

As the saying goes: an expert's first move reveals all.

Watching Qin Yun's skilled motions, Master Xu's expression subtly changed. His initial amusement faded, replaced by intense curiosity.

As a veteran luthier with decades of experience, he had repaired countless instruments—but if he had to fix this cello within a day, he considered it impossible. His fastest guaranteed time was three days; anything less, he couldn't guarantee. Even then, he'd have to resort to emergency repairs.

After confirming the issues, Qin Yun looked at the three and said: "Please don't speak or disturb me while I repair it—otherwise, my hands might shake."

Then he stood before the workbench, put on gloves, removed the loose neck, and asked Master Xu to bring him the several types of traditional fish glue he mentioned.

He didn't use the existing glue directly to bond the joints; instead, he mixed the different glues in varying proportions—not to increase adhesion, but to minimize secondary bonding side effects and slow the drying time.

Fish glue used in instrument repair is typically fast-drying, fully curing within ten minutes.

But fast-drying glue is only used for ordinary instruments or emergency cases; Qin Yun, aiming for the 200,000 yuan, naturally wouldn't use it.

If the performance were today, he might use fast-drying glue as a temporary fix and refine it later—but according to Ms. Shen, the performance was three days away, so he aimed for a perfect, one-time repair.

Half an hour passed. With clamps securing the tenon, Qin Yun looked up at Master Xu: "I need a custom soundpost blank. Does your shop have any suitable ones?"

Master Xu nodded: "Of course, but the price is high—it'll cost…"

Ms. Shen quickly interjected: "I'll pay for it."

Master Xu fell silent and went out to fetch the wood.

After retrieving suitable wood, Qin Yun crafted the soundpost on the spot, his knife moving without hesitation. He then precisely measured the position with a soundpost gauge and adjusted the verticality with astonishing tactile sensitivity—his speed left Master Xu stunned.

"Wait… you're just…?"

Before he finished speaking, Qin Yun plucked a string, adjusted the soundpost in sync with the string's resonance, and completed the tuning.

The soundpost is the soul of the cello—only 6mm in diameter. Breakage isn't rare; their shop frequently customizes and calibrates soundposts for broken cellos—but none had ever achieved Qin Yun's speed and precision.

The casual, effortless motions left Master Xu dumbfounded.

Laymen see spectacle; experts see technique. In Master Xu's eyes, the young man before him was no longer a greedy, overconfident kid—he was a master luthier.

He himself took at least thirty minutes to replace a soundpost, requiring constant calibration.

After replacing the soundpost, Qin Yun stretched his stiff body, then turned to Ms. Shen, whose expression now clearly showed calm anticipation.

"Ms. Shen, repairing the top plate cracks without traces, plus sanding and repainting and slow drying, will take over 24 hours. Or you can choose emergency repair—it'll leave no visible marks, no raised spots to the touch, and won't affect the top plate's vibration at all."

Master Xu nodded. Even if Qin Yun hadn't said it, he would've explained this to Ms. Shen. Now that Qin Yun had spoken, he kept quiet.

Ms. Shen thought for a moment and chose fine repair—after all, the performance was three days away; her daughter could use another cello for practice in the meantime.

Seeing her decision, Qin Yun didn't hesitate. He fetched matching old maple wood powder, mixed it with the prepared traditional fish glue, and filled the top plate cracks, gently smoothing along the grain. He then sanded layer by layer with 2000-grit ultra-fine sandpaper, finally applying instrument-specific lacquer oil. His entire technique was light yet precise—not a single excess wood particle remained.

Time slipped by. Before they knew it, night had fallen outside.

The once severely damaged cello now looked brand new—no trace of cracks remained on the body. Qin Yun adjusted the bridge height, tuned the string spacing, and re-tuned the pitch.

He plucked a string. A rich, lingering tone flowed out.

Though several areas had been emergency-repaired, not a single sign of damage remained. Master Xu leaned in, inspecting repeatedly, his fingers trembling: "Incredible—invisible repair, perfect tuning! The top plate crack repair even matches the wood grain perfectly. The soundpost position is off by less than 0.1 millimeters. Your craftsmanship—even in Italy's top workshops—is master-level!"

Hearing Master Xu's words, Ms. Shen covered her mouth, eyes reddened: "Mr. Qin, thank you so much—I'll transfer the money to you right away."

Qin Yun smiled, didn't refuse, pulled out his phone, opened his payment code, and handed it over: "Ms. Shen, I already told you which areas need fine repair later—you can come back to the shop for those. But for now, the cello must stay here. Come back at this time tomorrow to pick it up and use it directly."

Ms. Shen nodded: "Yes, I understand. Don't worry—I've got it all memorized."

Then and there, she transferred 200,000 yuan to Qin Yun's WeChat.

Qin Yun immediately said: "Ms. Shen, this is too much. If everything were fine-repaired, I'd gladly take it. But several areas were emergency-repaired—ten thousand yuan is more than enough."

Ms. Shen smiled: "It's not too much, Mr. Qin. You've solved my daughter's performance problem."

Seeing her insistence, Qin Yun didn't refuse. He accepted the money with calm satisfaction.

With this 200,000 yuan, plus the company's compensation in a few days, his balance jumped to 350,000 yuan—his car options widened dramatically.

Can't help but say: the system is amazing!

Declining the shop's offer of employment, Qin Yun exchanged contact information with Ms. Shen and walked away with his hands in his pockets.

After a long, busy day with no meal, he was starving—but he'd just earned 200,000 yuan, equivalent to his annual salary. To him, this was merely a small test—just with his mental instrument repair skill, he felt he could rebuild his life entirely.

Of course, this was mainly because the cello itself was extremely valuable, and Ms. Shen happened to be someone who didn't care about money. For an ordinary instrument, even a master's repair would cost only a few hundred or a thousand yuan—never such a high price.

It was simply fate.

Excitement swirled in his chest. Now, looking at the city, Qin Yun felt something entirely new.

By the time he got back to the hotel, it was already ten at night.

He had lost count of how many times he had woken up in the night to check his balance on his phone, but when he finally fell asleep, he was smiling.

And while he slept soundly, Song Ya's mood was terrible. She had let slip a word to her best friend, and unexpectedly her mother had found out. That very noon her mother had come in person to find her and given her a fierce scolding.

In the end her mother had even called her brainless — why agree to a divorce by mutual consent? Just file a lawsuit. The family had plenty of connections to make sure Qin Yun wouldn't get a single cent. No matter how she tried to explain that Qin Yun had chosen to leave with nothing, her mother wouldn't believe her, and even said this was just to lull him, and to wait and see tomorrow.

From start to finish, not a single word of comfort, nor any attempt to talk her out of divorcing.

Then, in the afternoon, calls from her eldest sister and third sister came in. She would rather not have that kind of concern — it made her feel too ashamed to face anyone.

That night was very long. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep a wink. She couldn't understand why Qin Yun had chosen to divorce her. Just because of those reasons he mentioned? She would rather believe Qin Yun had someone outside than believe it was because of her own issues.

She, Song Ya — height, looks, education — without false modesty, with conditions like these, finding a quality man in Beijing after the divorce would be easy. But Qin Yun? He had nothing, so where did he get the nerve to be the first to bring up divorce? Go back to his hometown and stay a bachelor after the divorce?

You made me unable to hold my head up at my parents' house and I never said I wanted a divorce, but look at you — you can't take even this little grievance and you still say you love me.

The angrier Song Ya got, the more she grabbed her phone and roared at the screen, sending a long voice message, her tone shrill and irritable. The core meaning was one sentence: nine tomorrow morning, I'll be waiting for you at the Minzheng Bureau.

When Qin Yun woke up the next day and saw the message, he was a bit speechless. Looking at the time it was sent — it was at half past three in the morning.

He replied with one message: "Okay." He checked the time, then went to wash up.

After washing up, he ate breakfast at the hotel, took his ID card and marriage certificate, and took a cab to the Minzheng Bureau.

At the Minzheng Bureau, he saw Song Ya, with heavy dark circles under her eyes and a face that was somewhat puffy. Based on his understanding of Song Ya, clearly the other party hadn't slept all night.

Qin Yun had originally wanted to say hello, but Song Ya didn't even acknowledge him and walked straight in to take a number and queue up.

Seeing this, he could only rub his nose and follow behind Song Ya.

When it was their turn, the staff member looked at them and tried to persuade them a few times. Seeing there was no room left, and the wife showing extreme impatience, they didn't waste any more words, had the two fill out the forms, and said to come back once the cooling-off period had passed to complete the process.

After finishing all this, the two walked to the door. Song Ya looked at him and said, "I really regret choosing you back then."

Having said that, she strode off.

Qin Yun watched her retreating back, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. The relief in his heart was something too wonderful to share with anyone.