The wind outside the window was much quieter than it had been last night.
The air outside the blankets was bitterly cold.
Su Wei threw off the blanket, and the cold air made him shiver, instantly dispelling his drowsiness.
The embers in the fireplace had long since turned into a grayish-white powder.
He skillfully filled the birch bark and lit a match.
The flames crackled as they burned the dry bark, and the orange-red light spread through the dim wooden cabin, dispelling the chill of the night.
In the corner of the sofa.
A ball of white fluff moved.
Cotton Candy buried its head under its tail, twitching its ear tips as Su Wei added firewood, but refusing to open its eyes.
Lazybones.
The aroma of cooking soon filled the kitchen.
Three eggs were slid into the hot oil, and the edges quickly turned golden brown and bubbly. Two slices of bacon were fried until they sizzled and dripped oil.
This high-calorie breakfast is a must on a cold winter morning in Alaska.
A few minutes later, after drinking the hot milk, my body finally warmed up.
Push open the heavy wooden door.
The cold air, mixed with ice crystals, rushed directly into my lungs, carrying a cold, fishy smell unique to the snowfields.
The snow piled up to my knees by the doorway.
Su Wei picked up the shovel leaning against the wall.
The road needs to be cleared first, otherwise the snow will be more difficult to clear once it's compacted and freezes.
The shovel cut into the snowdrift, kicking up fluffy snow powder.
He had done this tedious, repetitive work countless times; his body had memorized it.
Half an hour later.
A path leading to the garage was revealed.
A line of small text popped up in the lower left corner of my retina.
[Morning snow removal completed.]
[Physical fitness received a slight boost.]
[ Life Module Experience +5.]
That's too little.
That's barely enough experience points to fill a tooth gap.
Su Wei planted the shovel back into the snowdrift, brushed the ice off his gloves, and turned to walk toward the garage.
The real feast is inside.
He entered the garage and opened the compartment door.
A strong smell, a mixture of old engine oil, metal dust, and carburetor cleaner, wafted over.
The inline four-cylinder engine that was dismantled last night is lying quietly on the workbench.
Su Wei changed into her oil-stained overalls and casually kicked the Cotton Candy candy box next to the heater.
The little fox, who had just woken up, wandered in. Seeing the red light on the heater, it quickly settled itself into the tattered cotton quilt and squinted its eyes.
start.
Su Wei walked to the front of the stage, his fingertips gliding over the cold cast iron cylinder.
I cleaned the cylinder head and camshaft last night; today's work is more troublesome.
Piston, connecting rod, crankshaft.
The assembly of this core component has a very low tolerance for error; the slightest mistake will render the machine useless.
He opened the yellowed notebook his father had left behind.
On page 14, next to the hastily drawn hand-drawn illustration, a line of red pen annotations stands out.
Don't blindly trust the torque figures in the manual; listen to the sound of the screws.
This is very much in the style of Su Wei fathers.
Su Wei picked up the ratchet wrench and put on the No. 14 socket.
Remove the oil pan.
More than a dozen screws had seized due to the high temperature and lack of movement for a long time.
He didn't use brute force.
With a flick of the wrist, a clever trick was applied.
Click.
The crisp sound of metal snapping open traveled clearly from the long handle of the wrench to the palm of the hand.
This is the feel after skill enhancement.
The oil pan was removed, revealing the black crankshaft and connecting rod big end.
The engine oil has aged and turned into a gummy, asphalt-like substance.
If not thoroughly cleaned, this sticky substance will clog the oil passages, eventually leading to cylinder scoring and bearing failure.
Su Wei found a plastic basin, filled it with gasoline, and soaked the parts one by one in it.
He brushed it over, and the black grease dissolved and peeled off.
Piston rings require a lot of patience.
These cast iron rings are brittle and have a limit to their elasticity.
Su Wei picked up the piston clamps, but paused before using them.
He quickly formed a structural model in his mind.
Three rings.
First gas ring, second gas ring, oil ring.
The openings must be staggered by 120 degrees to form a labyrinth seal; otherwise, the engine will leak air and burn oil.
The notes read, "Press the ends of the opening with the pads of your thumbs to feel its limits."
Su Wei put down the pliers.
He used the edges of his fingernails to wed the piston ring opening, and slowly applied force outward with his fingertips.
He could feel the tension of the metal through his fingertips.
arrive.
This is the critical point.
Too much force and it will break; too little force and it won't fit.
If it were Su Wei yesterday, his hands would definitely be shaking right now.
But now, he has a very clear sense of where that critical point is.
Stay calm.
Push down.
Click.
The first ring fits perfectly into the groove.
Feels good.
The feeling of assembling steel parts is much more realistic than playing a game.
For the next two hours, the only sound in the garage was the crisp clanging of metal.
Cotton Candy was fast asleep, emitting soft snores.
Su Wei, however, became more and more focused as he worked.
The tightness of every screw and the thickness of every washer were transformed into a three-dimensional perspective view in his mind in real time.
The head gasket broke due to age.
No accessories were provided.
In remote places like Kodiak Island, the lack of spare parts is a common occurrence.
Su Wei rummaged through his father's box of precious junk.
He pulled out a intact asbestos board from a pile of waste.
He traced the outline of the old gasket remnant with scissors and then cut it off.