Chapter 117: Repair Storm·Siheyuan Night School

Zhao Jianguo weighed the burnt button cell in his palm, then slipped it into the bottom of the Toolbox. The threat on the note still echoed in his mind—"Next time not just the Gear Set." He said nothing, just unfolded another sheet of the sorting machine blueprint on the Desk and drew a circle with the pen tip beside the transmission structure.

When the sky turned black, two long tables had already been set up in the Courtyard. An Oil Lamp hung under the eaves, the wind shaking its shade, shadows leaping wildly on the wall. He Yushui emerged from the West Room cradling an old radio; its casing was peeled, the knob loose, clearly an old item that had seen many years.

"Where did you dig this one up?" Zhao Jianguo unscrewed the back cover, glanced at the circuit board.

"It was scrapped from the factory warehouse, said to be turned in as scrap metal." She crouched by the Desk, her fingers lightly brushed the tuning dial, "I thought, since no one wants it, why not use it to practice."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, "Alright, we'll cut into it tonight. Once fixed, everyone can listen to the news."

As soon as the words fell, Sha Zhu walked by carrying an enamel jar, and stopped at the foot of the sentence: "Yo, today we're even running a broadcast station?"

"More than that." Zhao Jianguo plugged the soldering iron in, "Starting tomorrow, Night School adds a new class—Home Appliance Repair Crash Course. Anyone with a lamp out, a stove dead, a radio mute, bring it over. We'll not only fix, we'll also teach everyone to do it themselves."

Sha Zhu's eyes lit up: "Then you have to teach me the circuit diagram of the steamer cart! Last time after modifying the drive shaft, I always felt the wiring was awkward."

"Learn to recognize resistors before you think about mods." Zhao Jianguo laughed, giving him a push, "Don't try to fly right away; you have to learn to walk first."

While speaking, Jia Zhangshi leaned on a cane and shuffled slowly past the East Room doorway, glanced at the commotion, snorted coldly: "Yo, what are you messing with now? The girl playing with these iron bits, what does she look like."

No one replied.

Seeing no response, her voice rose an octave: "What's the use of learning this? It'll be hard to get married! When people pick a daughter‑in‑law, who wants one covered in oil, speaking in jargon?"

He Yushui lowered her head, tweezers holding a fine lead, steadily soldered it onto the joint. Her hand didn't tremble, didn't stop, as if she hadn't heard at all.

Zhao Jianguo glanced at her, said nothing, just connected the power cord to the tester. The green light flashed twice, the machine emitted a faint hum.

"It's powered." he said.

A few people gathered nearby, someone whispered, "Will it make sound?"

"You'll know when you try." Zhao Jianguo twisted the switch.

After a rustling electric current sound, the Speaker suddenly broadcast the announcer's clear voice: "…Today's highest temperature is twenty‑eight degrees Celsius, partly cloudy…"

"Oh my! It really works!" nearby Wang Shen slapped her thigh, "That's the program from our factory's broadcast station!"

The crowd instantly livelied up. Several kids squeezed at the Desk edge to peek, and others reached out to touch the Speaker.

He Yushui finally lifted her head, her face slightly flushed, a smile curling at the corner. She carefully lifted the radio: "I'll put it outside so the whole Courtyard can hear."

As she stepped into the Courtyard, Jia Zhangshi happened to block the doorway, her cane thudding on the ground: "Girl, are you possessed? Carrying a broken box around, aren't you afraid you'll fall and smash your foot!"

He Yushui stood firm, voice low but clear: "It's not heavy, and— it's hot."

"Hot? That's a leak! When you go back, your hand will be burned, see what you'll use to find a husband!"

As soon as the words fell, a black shadow slashed in. Sha Zhu, one hand shouldering the freshly tuned steamer cart, the other hand steadying the radio's base: "Madam, you're right, this thing is indeed dangerous."

Jia Zhangshi was startled: "You even know it's dangerous?"

"It's too dangerous." Sha Zhu nodded solemnly, "If we fix it and the rice cooks too fast, everyone will scramble to eat, stepping on your doorstep—what then? I say, you might as well sign up, Engineer Zhao said the first session is free."

The crowd was silent at first, then burst into laughter.

"Exactly, Aunt Jia, if you don't come, we'll all be fighting for spots!" Wang Shen laughed, picking up the thread.

Jia Zhangshi's complexion flashed pale and then white, pointing at Sha Zhu for a long time, unable to speak: "You… you… a bunch of lunatics!"

"The crazy ones are the ones who get things done." Zhao Jianguo walked over, took the radio and placed it on the stone Desk in the center of the Courtyard, "Our Siheyuan, what was it like before? Lamp broken, we waited for an electrician; stove dead, we begged neighbors; radio mute, we just listened. Now it's different—people willing to learn, daring to fix, unafraid of getting dirty—this is how life should be."

He paused, raised his voice: "Tomorrow night at seven, Home Appliance Repair first class officially opens. No matter age or gender, anyone who wants to learn, we have enough tables and benches, tools and materials ready. If you can't fix it, that's fine; we'll disassemble together, watch together, ponder together."

The crowd fell silent for a moment, then sporadic applause rose, growing louder.

Jia Zhangshi snorted coldly, turned and left. Passing her own doorway, she slammed the door hard, dust rattling off the frame.

Sha Zhu watched her back, shook his head: "That old lady is more stubborn than the valve on my steamer cart."

"Stubbornness may hold for a while, but not forever." Zhao Jianguo opened another Toolbox, took out several old circuit boards and laid them on the Desk, "Technology is like this: if you don't let it leave the house, it will grow outward on its own."

He Yushui tuned the radio to a music channel; the melody of "The East Is Red" drifted slowly, carried by the evening breeze filling the whole Courtyard. A few kids gathered around the Desk, craning their heads to see the components inside; a little boy reached to touch a capacitor, his mother gently tapped his hand.

"Don't mess with it, it's something people repaired with care."

Zhao Jianguo crouched, pointing at a node on the circuit board: "See this? The broken line, just solder a piece of copper wire. No sorcery, just a bit of patience."

Nearby Master Li stroked his chin: "My desk lamp has been flickering for half a month, shall I bring it tomorrow?"

"Bring it." Zhao Jianguo straightened up, "If I can't fix it, it's on me."

Sha Zhu suddenly remembered something, slapped his forehead: "Right! The fan in my Kitchen, it blows like a sneeze, big then small, should I check it too?"

"Bring it." Zhao Jianguo repeated.

"Then… I'll go dismantle it now?"

"Go, just don't cut the Electric Wire."

"Don't worry, I now know which one is the live wire!" Sha Zhu puffed out his chest, lifted his head, and bounded away.

In a moment, he really carried the fan over, its shell still stained with oil. Zhao Jianguo took it, unscrewed the back cover; the winding on the motor was blackened.

"It's been burned once, the carbon brushes weren't replaced." He said while disassembling, "These little issues can be solved in ten minutes. The key is no one taught it before, so everyone thinks a broken appliance means you have to buy a new one."

He Yushui stood nearby, listening intently, nodding now and then. She suddenly spoke, "Engineer Zhao, may I try changing the carbon brushes?"

"Of course." Zhao Jianguo handed her the tools, "Steady hands, don't touch the capacitor beside it."

She inhaled deeply, put on insulated gloves, moved deftly and began working. Ten minutes later, the fan was reassembled. Zhao Jianguo connected the power, pressed the switch—

"Hoo—"

The blades turned smoothly, sending a cool breeze.

"Done!" someone shouted.

"It's more even than my old one!" Sha Zhu exaggeratedly fanned his face, "Now cooking won't make me sweat!"

Laughter burst again across the Courtyard.

Zhao Jianguo watched the crowd, a hint of relaxation finally appearing on his face. He knew the threatening note wouldn't be the last to appear, and the eyes watching them hadn't withdrawn yet. But now, he was no longer fixing machines alone.

He turned, took a new blueprint from the Toolbox, spread it on the Desk. It was the simple electric sewing machine schematic he had drawn last night, planning to teach a few housewives next week.

"Next session, we'll talk about how to make needlework less labor‑intensive." he said with a smile.

The crowd murmured again.

Just then, footsteps came from the Courtyard Gate. A neighbor walked in holding a fluorescent lamp ballast: "Engineer Zhao, can this… be fixed?"

"Give it here." Zhao Jianguo reached out and took it.

Someone else raised a hand: "My radio has a lot of static; can you adjust it?"

"Sure."

"If the washing machine's spin cycle doesn't work, does that count as a home appliance?"

"Yes! Anything that runs on electricity falls under our responsibility."

Laughter, questions, and discussion mingled together. The oil lamp's glow reflected on each person's face, on those disassembled machines, and on the tip of the screwdriver still held by He Yushui.

Zhao Jianguo stood in the center of the crowd, about to speak, when he suddenly noticed a smudge of black oil on He Yushui's sleeve cuff. She didn't mind, lifted her hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and continued to lower her head to study the wiring of the fan motor.