Alloy Master: Can you pour some memories into me too? I'll place an order?

"You?!"

Dr. Qin frowned, circled Shen Le half a turn clockwise, then half a turn counterclockwise.

His hands fluttered through a series of gestures. A probing spell swept across Shen Le's forehead, then he reached out and felt his forehead again.

"His brainwaves are steady? And he doesn't have a fever either?"

"What, do I have to burn my brain out before I can learn to repair zithers?" Shen Le huffily jumped off the bed, grabbed a towel, and vigorously wiped the sweat from his forehead. Dr. Qin shook his head at him.

"Before, you'd get sleepy just listening to someone play. So how did you suddenly learn to play now? Are you saying someone transferred memories of zither-playing into you?"

"It's far more than that!"

Shen Le held both hands out flat and pressed lightly at the air, hooking, plucking, brushing, and picking. Dr. Qin let out a squawk and froze abruptly, his eyes bulging as he stared fixedly at Shen Le.

"You, you..."

Even an outsider could see that Shen Le's few movements had structure and rhythm; they absolutely could not have been random gestures. Dr. Qin had watched Miss Yaoyao play the zither countless times, and he recognized at once that this was the opening of Three Variations on Yang Pass. "Good heavens, when did you learn to play the zither? You've been holed up at home this whole time, and you didn't hire a teacher to come over either!"

"So I told you, someone transferred memories of zither-playing into me, but you wouldn't believe me—"

Shen Le drawled out his complaint. And it was far more than just zither-playing. The women along the Qinhuai River had been absolutely outstanding in artistic accomplishment for their era.

Moreover, every one of them had a specialty, and each was