A light in the darkness

"I can." Yuan Su turned and rummaged through a pile of parts boxes. "But I don't have any matching new parts. Only used ones."

"Used ones are fine!" Pu Yu said quickly.

He said nothing more and lowered his head to get to work.

The tools obeyed his hands as he dismantled, cut wires, wound them together, insulated them...

His movements were far too practiced for a high school student.

Pu Yu stood quietly beside him, her gaze passing over his lowered eyes and brows. He had a high nose bridge and tightly pressed lips, with a brooding air that seemed out of place at his age.

A few minutes later.

Yuan Su reassembled the base, plugged it in, and pressed the switch.

Click.

Soft light spilled out at once, illuminating the narrow workbench and both their eyes.

"Done." He pushed the desk lamp toward her.

"Thank you!" Pu Yu happily picked up the lamp and pulled a few small bills from her pocket. "How much is it?"

Yuan Su picked up the soldering iron again without even lifting his eyes.

"Nothing."

"That won't do. I have to pay you." Pu Yu insisted on putting the money on the table.

Yuan Su frowned impatiently, his tone cold and hard. "I said no. It was just a worthless old part anyway."

At his sharp words, Pu Yu's outstretched hand froze in midair.

She looked at the boy's upright figure, bristling with hostility, and felt at a loss.

Yuan Su did not look up.

A thin wisp of smoke still rose from the soldering iron in his hand.

Holding the crumpled ten-yuan note, Pu Yu quietly lowered her wrist.

"Just try leaving it there," the boy said suddenly.

His voice was quiet, but carried a cutting chill.

The languor Yuan Su's dark eyes had held during the day was gone, leaving only defiance and ferocity at the perceived affront.

As though the moment the money touched the table...

He would throw her out, lamp and all.

Frightened by his attitude, Pu Yu abruptly drew her fingers back.

The air froze for a few seconds.

Only the faint hiss of electricity remained.

Looking at the thick layer of wariness in his eyes, Pu Yu suddenly understood what he meant.

He did not need a few coins offered like "charity."

Even if he was mired in hardship.

"Then I won't pay you."

Pu Yu obediently tucked the money back into her pocket and said softly, "Thank you, Yuan Su."

She picked up the desk lamp, turned, and hurried out of the repair shop.

Only after Yuan Su watched her slender figure disappear through the doorway did his tense jaw relax a little.

The night breeze swept into the shop, making several discarded diagrams rustle.

He lowered his eyes to the complex circuit board in his hand.

It was a motherboard brought in by the owner of the town's internet café. The fault was well hidden, and he had already spent two evenings troubleshooting it.

He should have been completely focused.

Yet when his fingertips touched the soldering iron's handle, he inexplicably remembered those eyes.

Clear and pure, like the sky after rain.

There had been no pity, no curiosity, none of the emotions he had long since grown sick of.

That only made him more irritated.

Just then.

A series of very soft footsteps sounded at the entrance.

The head that had just disappeared cautiously peeked around the doorway again.

Like a cat returning after leaving, she clung to the doorframe, showing only a pair of pretty eyes.

Yuan Su paused and turned to look, not yet having time to frown.

"I still want to explain," the girl said softly, with a hint of urgency and a touch of stubbornness. "I offered you money not out of charity, or because I pitied you."

Yuan Su said nothing, the lines of his profile looking cold and hard beneath the light.

Seeing that he had not chased her away, Pu Yu grew a little bolder. She stepped out from behind the door and stood where light met shadow.

She was still a little breathless from running back, but delivered her prepared explanation in one go. "You fixed my desk lamp. That took your skills, so I should pay for it. It's no different from buying food in the cafeteria or soda at the corner shop."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that, or that it would hurt anyone. What you get should match what you put in. You earned it."

She stressed the words "earned it," afraid he might misunderstand.

Yuan Su looked at her.

The light fell on the girl's slightly flushed yet remarkably fresh face.

Her clear eyes were open and honest, without a trace of anything else.

There was none of the contempt, sympathy, or eagerness to avoid him that he saw in the other townspeople.

She was simply stating a fact.

Under that gentle, accepting gaze, the hostility in Yuan Su's eyes gradually faded, replaced by a deeper scrutiny.

"Finished?" he asked.

"Not yet."

Pu Yu took a step forward and tried another approach. "If you insist on not taking money, then how about I bring you breakfast tomorrow in exchange?"

Money did not come easily to anyone.

Not to Grandma, not to Xu Suiran, and not to Yuan Su.

Pu Yu did not want to owe anyone.

"I don't need it."

He said those words with absolute finality.

Rather than being put off by his coldness, Pu Yu asked earnestly, "Then what do you usually eat in the morning?"

"Nothing," Yuan Su answered, blunt and casual.

In his chaotic, disorderly life, breakfast...

Was nothing more than an utterly unnecessary indulgence.

Pu Yu had only recently come to town, and everything she knew about what tasted good and what did not came from Xu Suiran, so she thought for a moment before speaking. "Suiran said the breakfast shop at the end of the alley has really good steamed buns. Shall I buy you some?"

"Suit yourself." His voice was muffled, betraying no emotion. "But don't expect me to eat them."

"Then that's not my problem."

The girl's voice was gentle, yet held a peculiar tenacity. "I'll leave them on your desk tomorrow morning. Whether you eat them is your business. Whether I bring them is mine."

She did not say "thank you," or anything else.

She simply held the desk lamp, now working again, and turned to leave the repair shop.

Yuan Su did not look up.

But he listened to her retreating footsteps until he could no longer hear them.

"Busybody."

He irritably tossed down his tools and set the circuit board back on the table.

Just as he was about to get up, his gaze fell on the little object at the corner of the table that he had not yet thrown away.

It was the discarded electrolytic capacitor he had replaced while fixing the lamp.

In fact, it had not been a loose connection at all.

The pressure inside the capacitor had grown too high, causing it to fail.

The replacement he had installed was an imported component he had just salvaged, but it was practically brand-new and several times better than the lamp's original part.

"My loss."

The boy muttered under his breath.

Only after walking a good distance did Pu Yu slow her steps.

She glanced back. The little shop was still lit.

An indescribable feeling stirred in her heart.

When she arrived home, Grandma was still working.

"Fixed?" Li Suhua asked without looking up.

"Yes, Grandma." Pu Yu put the lamp back on the table. "But he wouldn't take any money. When I insisted, he was... a little fierce."

"That's normal." Li Suhua stopped working the foot pedal, clearly used to it. "That boy responds better to a gentle touch. Cold on the outside, warm on the inside. Before everything happened, he was such a sunny child, always smiling at everyone."

"Afterward, he wrapped himself up like a hedgehog and shouldered that broken family all by himself."

Pu Yu remembered Xu Suiran saying that Yuan Su had once ranked first in their year.

He had been a promising student in his teachers' eyes, and someone many girls had secretly liked.

Then she remembered him explaining the problem to her that afternoon.

Impatient as he had been, he had still gone over it three times.

And...

Even though he had said the wiring was worn out.

He had quietly replaced the electrolytic capacitor.

"Yes," she said softly. "He's actually... really nice."