The Exquisite Love Witnessed by Little Ink Marker

Since I am here, I shall make the best of it.

Since there was no way out, Shen Le calmed his mind and looked around.

The factory, supported by high, sturdy beams, was filled with various machines, some half a person's height, others a full person's height, most of which Shen Le did not recognize. Based on his limited knowledge, they appeared to be machine tools, lathes, machine tools, and lathes...

However, every machine looked quite small and old. Numerical control was impossible, and the power output was likely low, making it incapable of processing large or complex workpieces.

Yet, every single machine was maintained with extreme care. The bed, the tool rest, the cutting tools—every piece was polished to a shine, without a trace of grease or grime.

Some kind of event was clearly being held today, as a clear space had been specially swept at one end of the factory floor, and a long red cloth banner had been hung up.

Blocked by the crowd, Shen Le stood on tiptoe to get a look, stretching his neck until it felt like it might snap, but he could only make out the words "Commendation Meeting."

He moved a few more steps to get a better look and saw a group of young men and women pushing a man and a woman forward amidst laughter and cheers.

The man was the "Ai Jun" Shen Le had seen before; he did not recognize the woman, but she held her head high, her eyes full of vitality, and one could not help but feel drawn to her at first glance.

Both of them wore identical red sashes, with a large, handmade red cloth flower pinned to the center of each.

One wore an "Advanced Producer" badge, and the other wore a "Labor Model" badge as they stood side by side.

As soon as they stood steady, the young people around them began to shout in waves:

"Say a few words!"

"Say a few words!"

"Say a few words—"

The young man and woman looked at each other, their gazes locked, each deferring to the other. They exchanged glances for quite a while until the whistling from below threatened to bring the roof down, at which point Ai Jun coughed and braced himself to speak:

"Um... I am very honored to be named an Advanced Producer... This is the factory's affirmation of my work, and it could not have been achieved without the training and guidance of my master... I will continue to work hard and contribute my strength to building our motherland..."

He stumbled through a few sentences, his face growing redder and his forehead sweating more with every word.

Seeing the factory director, the secretary, and his own master all watching with smiles on their faces, he suddenly found a surge of courage. He reached into his work uniform pocket, pulled out an Ink Marker, and held it up with both hands toward the young woman:

"Chang Hong, I like you! Will you marry me, work alongside me, improve together, and help build a new socialist China?"

It was that very Ink Marker!

The same one that had fallen into his hands, the one he was currently restoring!

Shen Le felt a jolt of excitement and was about to lean in for a closer look. The next moment, the entire factory fell silent, and then, the sound of applause, stomping feet, laughter, and whistling erupted:

"Say yes! Say yes! Say yes!"

Chang Hong looked at the young man with a mix of joy and feigned annoyance. She didn't say yes, nor did she say no; she simply lowered her head slightly, her lips moving.

The surroundings were noisy. It was only because Shen Le had squeezed through the crowd and was standing extremely close to them that he managed to hear the girl's words clearly:

"If you want to marry me, your skills have to catch up to mine first~~~"

Shen Le couldn't help but laugh.

He had seen it clearly just now: the "Advanced Producer" badge on Ai Jun's chest was awarded by the factory itself, while the Labor Model badge on Chang Hong's chest was a regional-level award.

In other words, the Advanced Producer title Ai Jun received was likely not as prestigious as Chang Hong's Labor Model title. It was no wonder the girl wasn't convinced and had set the condition that "your skills have to catch up to mine."

Very good, very strong. Women hold up half the sky; a female worker who grows and improves together with her partner should have such spirit!

Hearing this, Ai Jun actually stopped being nervous. He smiled slightly, flipped his right hand—which had been hidden beneath the Ink Marker—and held up the Lead Weight that had been tucked underneath, still attached to the ink line.

Embedded at the top of the Lead Weight was a three-layered, exquisite Devil's Work Ball. As his hand shook, the inner layers rolled and rotated gently.

Chang Hong's eyes lit up.

She looked at the young man before her with a brand-new perspective, nodding shyly yet without the slightest hesitation.

The light and shadow before his eyes flickered, and when it brightened again, he was back at the workbench in the Old Mansion. Shen Le's mind was still immersed in the romance he had just witnessed; his smile faded, and he couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

Sigh...

Shen Le let out a long sigh. The original owners of the Ink Marker, that elderly couple, must have had a very good relationship—truly, very good indeed...

Yet, their children—or were they children? People in middle age, clearly in love, yet they would bicker over the smallest trifles.

It was painful for others to watch. If the spirits of the old couple were watching from above—or perhaps, if their spirits were attached to the Ink Marker—how could they ever be at peace?

Before he could finish his sigh, he felt a weight on his right arm. The Little Puppet had jumped up, hooked her control board onto his right arm, and was swinging back and forth, looking up at him:

"What's wrong with you? What's wrong? Why are you suddenly spacing out? I called you so many times!"

"It's nothing..."

Shen Le unhooked the little creature from his arm and patted her head. Spacing out? Had he been spacing out for a long time?

So, when I fall into the memories provided by the Copper Fragment, it looks like I'm spacing out to others?

I'll have to find a safe, quiet place next time. I wouldn't want to wake up from a memory only to find myself being sent to the hospital.

"Next time I space out like that, just don't touch me. Be a good girl and go play outside." He picked up the Little Puppet, set her outside the door, and continued his battle with the Ink Marker itself.

He had already washed it with soft cloths and clean water, and now he used dish soap to scrub it thoroughly, removing the grime completely. He picked it up and shone a flashlight on it to inspect it closely, but there were still unclean spots:

"Sigh... these old, accumulated stains in the wooden crevices—are they impossible to clean, or what..."

Observing closely, the aged grime in the crevices was a mix of ink stains, years of grease, and oil-soaked sludge. Such filth could not be cleaned away with mere water and detergent; one could use a Scraping Knife to dig in, shaving away the grime along with the wood beneath...

But that would be too destructive.

The art of cultural relic restoration emphasizes preserving as much as possible and minimizing damage at every turn.

If possible, even the patina on bronzeware or the rust on iron artifacts should be retained, provided it does not harm the relic itself or exacerbate existing damage—

After all, these are cultural relics; the rust upon them chronicles the years they have endured, documenting every experience they underwent before being unearthed, restored, and exhibited.

Did they slumber in the earth?

Were they submerged in a lake or the sea?

Were they buried in a tomb, placed within a coffin, only to sink into the mud as the wood rotted away, eventually fusing into a clump with everything else nearby?

Or were they sealed in an underground palace, preserved perfectly from beginning to end, only to begin oxidizing rapidly the moment the vault was opened?

Preserving the traces left upon them as much as possible, including the corrosion wrought by time, so that they may be presented to viewers and researchers alike—is that not the duty of a restoration specialist?