Mo Chen's Scrap Heap

"There are no classes tomorrow afternoon." Wang Shuo rubbed his hands together, keeping his voice low. "I want to take you somewhere."

Lu Yuan looked up from his notes.

"It's... a way to thank you." Wang Shuo stumbled over his words. "It's out of the way, but you'll definitely be interested in the stuff there."

"What stuff?"

"Hard to explain." Wang Shuo scratched his head. "It's all junk, piled up like mountains. People in town say the old man is crazy, but I reckon... he knows a thing or two."

Lu Yuan tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

"All right."

The next afternoon, Wang Shuo led him through streets and alleys.

They went farther and farther from town. The stone-paved road gave way to dirt, and large patches of plaster peeled from the walls. A mingled smell hung in the air-the metallic tang of rust, the greasy reek of Soul Power lubricant, and the choking stench of old dust.

Wang Shuo stopped before a crooked wooden door.

The door stood half-closed. A misshapen circle had been drawn on it in charcoal, with a few lines roughly carved inside, like some kind of incomplete soul circuit.

"This is it." Wang Shuo lowered his voice. "Don't touch anything in there. The old man's got a strange temper."

He pushed the door open.

The light dimmed.

The room was crammed with things. From the corners to the rafters, it was all metal parts, broken soul cores, and half-finished frames. There was barely room to put a foot down.

The smell was stronger inside. Metal shavings mingled with Soul Power residue, along with the smell of cheap ale.

A battered wooden table stood at the back of the room, with a man slumped behind it.

His long hair was streaked gray and white, hanging loose in a tangled, greasy mess. He wore a leather apron whose original color was impossible to make out, covered in scorch marks. Clutching a bottle, he tipped his head back and took a swig.

Hearing the noise, he didn't even lift his eyelids.

"Get lost." His voice was hoarse.

Wang Shuo hunched his shoulders and shuffled forward a couple of steps. "U-Uncle Mo Chen, it's me, Wang Shuo."

Mo Chen slowly turned his face.

His eyes were sunken, his cheekbones prominent, and his face puffy from heavy drinking. But deep in his pupils, two points glowed like embers that hadn't quite gone out.

He glanced at Wang Shuo, then at Lu Yuan.

"What'd you bring a little brat here for?" He sneered. "I don't take junk here."

Wang Shuo hurriedly said, "He's interested in Soul Tools."

"Interested?" Mo Chen's shoulders shook. "What the hell does a little brat know?"

Lu Yuan said nothing.

His gaze fell on the "junk." Discarded Soul Power lamp cores were piled in the left corner, while half-finished energy stabilizers sat on the shelves to the right. Looking farther in-

A palm-sized metal disc lay by a table leg, its surface etched with densely packed circuits.

Lu Yuan's pupils contracted slightly.

The circuit's layout was seventy percent similar to the prototype of the Low-Level Energy Gathering Array he had seen in his previous life. It had just been etched crookedly, with several key nodes connected incorrectly.

Mo Chen followed his gaze and snorted. "What are you looking at? That thing's no good."

"I know," Lu Yuan said.

Mo Chen froze for a moment.

Lu Yuan had already crouched down, moving his finger along the lines just above the disc. "The third and fifth nodes are reversed. When the energy flows here, the currents clash, and then..." His fingertip stopped at a certain spot. "It builds up here, and once it exceeds the load, it burns out."

The room fell silent.

Wang Shuo's eyes widened. The bottle in Mo Chen's hand stopped in midair.

A few seconds later, Mo Chen shot upright. The chair legs scraped across the floor with a piercing screech.

"You..." He stared at Lu Yuan, the two embers in his murky eyes flickering. "Who taught you that?"

Lu Yuan stood up. "I read it in a book."

"Bullshit!" Mo Chen slammed the bottle onto the table. "What book would talk about this? I came up with it myself, just messing around!"

As soon as he finished speaking, he froze.

Lu Yuan walked to the wall and picked a Soul Power lamp core out of the scrap heap. Its casing was badly rusted, and its internal structure was visible through a crack.

"This one." He weighed it in his hand. "Its energy conversion efficiency is fifteen percent at most."

Mo Chen said nothing, but his breathing grew heavier.

"There are three problems." Lu Yuan spoke evenly. "First, the soul-conducting wire is wound too tightly, causing excessive friction loss when Soul Power passes through it. Second, the core crystal's mounting bracket is unstable, so output fluctuates by over twenty percent. Third..."

He paused and tapped a hollow on the side of the core.

"The buffer circuit for the returning energy isn't connected at all. The excess Soul Power surges back against the crystal, accelerating its aging."

Wang Shuo was lost in the clouds and fog as he listened. Mo Chen, however, slowly stood up.

He came around the table, his steps a little unsteady, but his eyes remained fixed on the core in Lu Yuan's hand.

"Go on." His voice was terribly hoarse.

Lu Yuan set the core on the table, picked up a stub of charcoal, and drew a simple diagram on a clear patch of the tabletop.

"Wind the soul-conducting wire in a loose spiral instead, and adjust the spacing according to the Soul Power wavelength. That'll reduce friction loss by thirty percent." The charcoal moved, leaving clean, crisp lines. "Add a triangular brace to the mounting bracket and fill the gaps with flexible soul-conducting compound. That'll bring the fluctuations down below five percent."

He turned his wrist and drew another small circuit beside it.

"The buffer circuit can be simplified. There's no need for extra engraving. Just extend the main circuit's seventh branch and loop it around here. The inertia of the Soul Power's spin will form a natural buffer."

The charcoal stopped.

Mo Chen stared at the sketch, the drunkenness fading from his face at a visible pace. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

Several seconds passed before he slowly looked up.

His gaze had changed completely. The murkiness had been replaced by a frightening sharpness.

"This thing you drew..." His throat bobbed. "How much Soul Power does this simplified circuit lose?"

"Theoretically, eight percent," Lu Yuan said. "In practice, taking impurities in the materials and engraving errors into account, roughly twelve to fifteen percent."

"Twelve percent..." Mo Chen murmured.

The most ordinary Soul Power lamps on the market were only twenty percent efficient. He had spent more than ten years tinkering, and his best work had only reached eighteen percent, with a structure too complicated for mass production.

Yet the simplified design this child had casually drawn could hold steady at twelve percent or more.

No, more than that.

Mo Chen suddenly seized Lu Yuan's wrist.

His grip was astonishingly strong. Lu Yuan frowned but didn't pull away.

"You just said to extend the seventh branch and use the inertia of the Soul Power's spin to form a buffer." Mo Chen spoke rapidly, every word seeming to be forced through his teeth. "That idea... I thought of it ten years ago! But I couldn't calculate it! How do you set the inertia parameters? How much do you extend it?"

His fingers tightened, his knuckles turning white.

"Tell me, how did you calculate those parameters?"

Lu Yuan was silent for a moment.

"Observation, and guessing," he said. "I've seen similar circuits and tried simulating them with Soul Power. I didn't calculate the parameters. I worked them out by trial and error."

That was half true and half false.

Mo Chen stared at him as though trying to see straight through him. After a long time, he slowly released his grip.

"Trial and error..." he repeated, then suddenly broke into a grin. It was somewhat ferocious, carrying a madness that had been suppressed for years. "Good, good."

He turned and rummaged frantically through the scrap heap. Metal parts clattered and dust flew.

Wang Shuo coughed as the dust caught in his throat. Lu Yuan stood where he was, watching Mo Chen's back.

A few seconds later, Mo Chen pulled out a dusty metal plate. Its edges were pitted, but its surface was fairly flat. He grabbed the charcoal and shoved it into Lu Yuan's hand.

"Draw," he said, his voice trembling. "Draw that simplified circuit of yours in full. Now!"

Lu Yuan took the charcoal.

The metal plate was icy cold. He took a deep breath and set the charcoal to it.

The first stroke was steady and precise.

Mo Chen leaned in beside him, his eyes almost touching the plate. As the lines extended, his breathing grew more and more rapid, and he muttered unconsciously, "Yes... a turn here... the angle of the branch... damn it, so that's how it should connect..."

Wang Shuo stood in the doorway, looking at the backs of the two figures, one large and one small.

The room was still just as messy, the smell just as foul. But somehow, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different.

As if a piece of red-hot iron had suddenly been thrown into stagnant water.

Sizzle.

Lu Yuan finished the last stroke and put down the charcoal. A complete, intricate circuit pattern stood out clearly on the metal plate.

Mo Chen stared at the pattern without moving.

A full half minute passed before he slowly raised his hand, his fingertip trembling slightly as it hovered above a node in the circuit.

"This thing..." His voice was so hoarse it was barely audible. "It'll work."

He raised his head and looked at Lu Yuan.

In those sunken eyes, flames that had been extinguished for years now danced wildly.