In Shen Le's cohort, the archaeology department's Cultural Relic Restoration Major had admitted 25 master's students, who were divided into seven or eight specializations:
Restoring bronze vessels, restoring porcelain, restoring ancient architecture, restoring calligraphy and paintings, restoring textiles...
Each specialization could be divided even further. Restoring calligraphy and paintings on paper was a different path from restoring those on silk, and restoring murals was a world apart from either.
Restoring porcelain, restoring pottery, and restoring Cloisonné or Tang Sancai might seem closely related, but in reality, none could replace the others.
As a result, 25 master's students per cohort weren't enough. Students from several cohorts had to work together.
The Senior Sister Shen Le had asked for advice was in the miscellaneous artifacts group. But there were so many different kinds of artifacts that repairing clocks and watches, restoring ivory carvings, and fixing snuff bottles were all entirely different fields.
"Oh? Lele? Long time no see! How have you been? Studying at home lately? How's the studying going?
"I've got textbooks and exercises from the past two years. Want me to mail them to you?"
It took the Senior Sister a while to reply, probably because she was concentrating on her work and couldn't stop. But once she did, she fired off a whole string of questions. Shen Le couldn't keep up and could only plead for mercy:
"Senior Sister, Senior Sister, let's not talk about that yet. Here's the thing..."
He explained the Devil's Work Ball situation, and the other end went quiet too. After a long while, a message finally came through:
"Why not just buy one? They're not expensive! Why are you learning to make something so troublesome and unprofitable, and so unrelated to your field?"
"Senior Sister, please help me out! I don't want to make it myself unless I have no other choice!"
"I get it. You've got a girlfriend, right?" The Senior Sister sent a huge smiley face, then fired off a string of questions:
"What's her name? Where's she from? What school does she go to? What's her major? How tall and how heavy is she? Got a picture you can send me?"
"Senior Sister!!!" Shen Le typed miserably:
"Please, please!"
"All right, I'll stop teasing you." The Senior Sister quickly sent another smiley face:
"Well... it's not that hard. A new batch of junior students just came in, so I'll send one of them the problem and have him make a model and calculate it! He might even get a paper out of it..."
Whether it was getting the sample tested by the Senior Martial Brother or having the Senior Sister put her junior student to work, both would take time.
While he waited, Shen Le wiped down the Ink Marker, washed it, then set to work sanding its surface, laboriously stripping away the peeling paint:
"Scritch... scritch... scritch-scritch-scritch..."
"Man, this is no way to live." After finishing one round of sanding, Shen Le retreated outside the room, took off his KN95 mask, and brushed himself off from head to toe.
At that moment, a hazy mist still drifted through the workroom. It was all pulverized paint dust; the PM2.5 reading had to be over 500:
"You need a mask for sanding, a mask for spray-painting, a mask for everything. There's only one room in the whole house with air conditioning, and if I want to take off my mask, I have to get out of it..."
He needed to think of another way to bring in some money.
On 2,600 yuan a month, when would he ever be able to afford an air conditioner? Even a halfway decent one cost more than 2,000 yuan!
Still, Shen Le wasn't in the mood to walk around looking for work, asking at secondhand shops and old furniture stores one by one:
"Hello, do you need any of this old furniture or decor refurbished? I'm a professional. Low rates, quick turnaround~~~"
He opened the window and set up an old electric fan he'd picked up at the secondhand market, blowing the paint dust out of the room as hard as it could go. Then he wandered off for a look around.
Making a Devil's Work Ball definitely took practice.
The all-powerful Taobao had 20 mm solid wooden balls: ten for just 1.2 yuan, though shipping cost 6 yuan.
He might as well take a walk down the street and see if he could find any ready-made wooden balls for cheap, and look around for ways to make money while he was at it!
A short walk from Old Street was the market. Vegetables were sold under the covered stalls, while outside, a long row of narrow shops stood shoulder to shoulder.
Goods hung from doorways, piled on shelves, and stuffed into woven plastic sacks, almost spilling out onto the road.
After walking only half the street, Shen Le had already spotted a huge bundle of yellow cloth shoes with rubber soles, bags of cotton work gloves, old-fashioned blue cloth shirts, black trousers...
There were also vegetable peelers as thin as sheet metal, fake Camphor Wood beads that reeked of cheap perfume, their colors carelessly mixed, and ordinary Miscellaneous Wood walking sticks advertised as Rosewood, among other things.
He spent two yuan on a pack of ten 20 mm solid wooden balls, then bought a bag of KN95 masks, one roll each of 200-, 400-, and 600-grit Sandpaper, and a pile of miscellaneous odds and ends.
One occupational safety shop did have industrial dust masks, but Shen Le picked one up, looked it over, then tried it on and couldn't bring himself to buy it.
You never knew what strange little shops in a place like this might sell fakes. Since his health was at stake, it seemed safer to wait until he had the money and buy one from the Tmall Flagship Store!
After buying his practice tools, Shen Le ambled past the market toward the other half of the street.
As he walked, he spotted two vaguely familiar figures trudging along, tugging at each other and arguing nonstop. The woman grabbed the man with one hand and held up a shoebox with the other, shaking it hard:
"Look at these shoes you bought! Take them back!"
"What's wrong with these shoes?" The man leaned back, trying to plant his feet, but the woman still dragged him along, making him stumble.
He was about to argue, but his wife's words came crashing down on him like a downpour:
"The soles are so soft they're practically mush! They'll wear through in a month!
"And don't give me that brand-name nonsense! How many times have I told you? Brand names are pointless!
"And they cost 150 a pair!
"Those Liberation Shoes are the best—cheap and durable. Ten yuan a pair, and they last six months! For 140 yuan, I could buy you several pig's trotters!
"Honestly, I have to do all the shopping myself. Turn my back for one second and you get yourself into trouble. What use are you..."
"But you work at the supermarket. You should wear something decent..." Her husband was still trying to argue. His wife didn't give him a chance. She dragged him straight to a shoe shop and, with a furious air, slapped the shoebox down on the counter:
"Return these!"
Her husband shrank back a little, clearly not entirely in favor of her behavior, but too afraid to resist. His wife wouldn't let him off the hook, though. She turned and shouted at him:
"What are you staring at? Tell them to take the shoes back!"
Watching the couple from a distance, Shen Le shook his head slightly.
The wife was clearly thinking of her husband, pinching every penny for the household, but her tongue was sharp.
The husband was thinking of his wife too. She dragged him around and scolded him in public, but who knew if he resented it?
As he pondered this, he slowly walked closer and watched through the shop doorway.
The wife's fighting spirit was astonishing. After arguing with the shop assistant for ages, insulting them and threatening to report them to the commerce and tax authorities, she actually managed to return the shoes.
She walked out of the shop with her head held high, then suddenly spotted Shen Le. She froze for a moment and asked:
"You? The one who bought woodworking tools from us yesterday... Is everything all right at your place?"