The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 812 Professor: Can I take a look at the memories of this dagger?

Although he longed to rush to the Dragon Palace immediately to see the golden light on that magic boat again, or to start repairing the other items in the pottery urn, Shen Le tried his best to restrain himself.

He buried himself in typing and drawing, racking his brains to record every detail of the Qin Xianyang Palace, stroke by stroke.

The layout of the entire palace complex, the length of the palace roads, the types of palaces, the height, width, and structure of the palaces, the patterns and colors of the railings and bricks...

You only realize how little you know when you need it, and you only regret your poor memory when you have to retell the details.

Shen Le entered a meditative state countless times, searched his memories countless times, and even gripped the dagger countless times, channeling heat into it, hoping the dagger would have mercy and take him inside again—

Sorry, no. In short, Shen Le risked being stabbed by countless blades again in an attempt to trigger the dagger's memory, but he was unsuccessful.

As for whether it was due to insufficient spiritual energy, or whether this memory was merely a one-time release, Shen Le lacked the knowledge to find the answer...

"So, this is the Qin Xianyang Palace that you saw from... uh, Madam Xu's dagger memories?"

Professor Han, Shen Le's mentor, stared at Shen Le, whose cheeks were sunken and whose face was practically covered with dark circles under his eyes. His tone was half sigh and half disbelief.

He snatched the mouse and frantically zoomed in and out, repeatedly enlarging and shrinking the images Shen Le had created, moving them back and forth to examine them.

As he looked around, he frowned and kept muttering to himself, using technical terms like "the location of the palace matches the archaeological findings" and "what do you mean by the height of the platform here?"

He paused every now and then, pointing to a certain detail and asking Shen Le:

"What are the patterns on the palace walls like?"

What pattern is on this platform?

"Are you sure there are thirty-six steps here? Did you count them?"

“I’ve counted them!” Shen Le nodded vigorously.
"I remember it clearly, I charged upwards from the bottom, climbing a total of twenty-five levels—"

"and then?"

"Then……"

Shen Le froze. Professor Han, however, already showed a look of concern, raising his hand to rub his head, then paused and patted his shoulder instead.

"Don't push yourself too hard. Don't push yourself too hard. We ordinary people don't need to hold up the sky, no matter how badly it falls. After all, you're not a soldier!"

Shen Le nodded silently, lowering his gaze as if to avoid his mentor's stare. With great power comes great responsibility; if the sky were to fall, he might truly have to hold it up.

Not to mention, he has encountered military training more than once.

He once served as a garrison commander in the Western Regions of the Tang Dynasty for decades, traversing vast deserts and even single-handedly storming the Tibetan royal palace with his sword.
He had fought until he was exhausted, until he was covered in blades, until he was on the verge of death and his blood was drained. This wasn't the first time he had fought like this, so one more time wouldn't make a difference!
"Boss, let's continue! If there's anything else you'd like to know, just ask me, and I'll try my best to answer everything I can remember!"

"...You only drew these few pictures? Didn't you say that you inherited Qin Wuyang's memories? What clothes did Prince Dan of Yan wear? What did the table and furnishings look like at the farewell ceremony at the Yi River?"
"What did Jing Ke's carriage look like? What were the guesthouses for the envoys like, and where were they located? What were the specific rituals for the Qin king's 'Nine Guests' ceremony? What was the list of ministers? Their positions?"

Professor Han fired off a barrage of questions. Shen Le's face slowly stiffened, contorted, and conjured a mask of pain:

"Ah—boss, slow down... I'll do it one thing at a time, explain things step by step, okay?"

"And there's the farewell song by the Yi River! Didn't you memorize 'Guangling San'? What tune did Gao Jianli play on the zither? What does that zither look like?"

Even though Shen Le is a top expert in the Special Affairs Bureau, people fawn over him wherever he goes, and he doesn't care about anyone else's feelings. But when it comes to his own mentor, he can only nod obediently.

Even a single question from his tutor felt like a tightening of the headband on his forehead, forcing him to desperately rack his brains, typing furiously as he answered…

"Alas, what a pity, this content cannot be published—it lacks empirical evidence." Professor Han lamented, while gazing intently at the drawings Shen Le had produced.
"If only everyone could see these things... What a pity..."

"Ah, well, there's nothing I can do about it... Let me repair all the items first. Maybe then they'll develop sentience and be able to describe the era they lived through..."

For example, if you ask Li Xingtang now, "What did the Hanyuan Hall of the Tang Dynasty look like?" he can give you a detailed explanation by gesturing and pointing.

As for what someone in full Tang Dynasty armor said, whether an ordinary person could hear it, whether the audio and video could be recorded, and whether it could be played back, that's...

Let's not ask for too much. At the very least, knowing the answer before working backward makes things much easier and allows us to get results more effectively.

It took Shen Le three whole days to finally satisfy all of Professor Han's curiosity, and then she respectfully saw him off.

By the way, I've packaged all the information about Madam Xu's dagger, the broken dagger, and the map of Dukang, and I'll send it to whoever needs it.

In terms of the ability to create replicas, school teachers and museum restorers far surpass him. He can create as many as he wants!
what?
How do we explain to the public the process of "discovering the Dukang map and Madam Xu's dagger"?

Let's leave the heavy responsibility of making up stories to the experts...

Finally freed from these tasks, Shen Le unleashed his mental energy and began to touch the other items inside the pottery urn that needed repair.

The good news is there are two more orbs of light; the bad news is that each orb is stronger than the last, and he feels he might not be able to handle them...

Shen Le hesitated for a moment between the two orbs of light. The one on the left was a dark mass, and the one on the right was a dark strip.

The one on the left, when you wrap it with your mental energy and lift it slightly, starts to crumble; the one on the right, when you lift it with your mental energy, it's not just crumbling, it feels like it's going to shatter into pieces!
"I can't touch this with my mental power... Let me try to pick it up with ordinary tools..."

Shen Le sighed softly, then reached inside with a camera, looking left and right inside the earthenware jar.

On the left is a lump of scrap metal, on the right is a piece of rotten wood, it seems... the lump on the left is easier to lift?
He applied for a robotic arm, which was suspended above the pottery urn, pressed against one side of the urn wall, and probed inside little by little.

Several wires of different materials were tied to the robotic arm, and a fine net was placed underneath to ensure that even if the robotic arm was cut into pieces, it would not fall directly onto the cultural relics.

"Sigh, hopefully it'll work..." he muttered a prayer as he carefully adjusted the robotic arm, lowering it inward little by little.

Sigh, if only someone could help hold the surgical mirror. I heard that in China, surgical robots, which can be remotely controlled, require two doctors to stand by and hold the robotic arms.

Simply put, the robotic surgeons who operate the robotic arms are cheaper than expensive surgical robots, and even cheaper than the robots' maintenance costs...

However, Shen Le couldn't find any cattle or horses, or rather, his laboratory, which focused on the restoration of spiritual artifacts, was not suitable for a second person to enter.

The girls in their flowing skirts could lend a hand, but Shen Le worried that if they stuck their hair in, it would just be sliced ​​to pieces by the golden light...

Helpless, he had to hold his breath and carefully move the robotic arm, millimeter by millimeter, horizontally, vertically, and downwards.

Closer and closer, the mechanical claw at the end of the robotic arm slowly unfolded, covering the lump of scrap metal, and began to gradually retract inward.

However, the moment the magnet fixed on the mechanical claw touched the scrap iron, a white-gold radiance suddenly rose from the scrap iron, which had been concealed by divine power and whose golden light could only be sensed with spiritual power!

"I'm so angry!"

Before Shen Le could even curse, his spiritual power surged forth, condensing into a thin sword that fiercely battled the platinum-gold light in mid-air.

Clang, clang, clang—the two tangible yet intangible forces collided, producing a metallic clang. After only a few strikes, a fine layer of sweat appeared on Shen Le's forehead.

too difficult.

The platinum sheen on this piece of scrap iron was in no way inferior to that of Madam Xu's dagger. Moreover, Madam Xu's dagger was merely a short dagger, light and thin;

This piece of scrap iron, however, struck with the weight of a thousand pounds. Each strike was not a chop or a slash, but a smash, causing Shen Le's mental energy to tremble violently, almost shattering!
Hang in there!

Hang in there!

Hang in there!
Shen Le gritted his teeth, condensed his spiritual power into a thin strand of golden energy, and used all sorts of martial arts techniques—picking, stabbing, deflecting, and scraping—to block the golden light generated by that lump of scrap iron.

For every attack the opponent makes, he needs three, four, or even more attacks to defend against it;

The good news, however, was that the attacks from the other side were heavy and slow. For every attack they launched, he could launch three or four more, preventing the platinum-gold light from landing on his precious mechanical arm...

Mental energy poured out like a floodgate being opened. Perhaps only 10 seconds passed, perhaps a minute, perhaps a whole hour—

Shen Le quickly felt powerless and had to sit cross-legged, putting all his strength into the battle of mental power.

His eyes were tightly closed, his breathing barely perceptible, and his vital signs were almost zero. However, a beam of light rose from the top of his head, coalescing into a luminous human figure, its right hand extended forward, its entire arm radiating a platinum-gold light.

Block!

stop!

The moment the humanoid figure of light appeared, the situation reversed dramatically. This time, it was Shen Le's turn to carefully control the intensity of his attacks:

It can't be too weak, otherwise it won't be able to subdue that lump of scrap metal and make it obediently follow its commands;

It can't be too strong either. If it's too strong, and it cuts a piece off the scrap iron itself, that would be horrific. Not to mention, if it cuts into a pottery urn, rotten wood, or even a lacquered box, that would be an absolute disaster—

The Western Geng Metal Qi condensed from the humanoid form of light is also incomparably sharp; ordinary objects will crack or shatter upon contact!
Shen Le could only concentrate his spiritual power in a small area, repeatedly battling the golden light. The golden light, suppressed by Shen Le, descended inch by inch, yet it was exceptionally resilient; each time it was struck down, it desperately surged back up.

Shen Le tried to kill it a hundred or two hundred times, but it was no use; he couldn't subdue it.
He wanted to transform the Geng metal energy into silk threads to bind it tightly, but Shen Le's mastery of metal energy was not yet at that level. Such a hard and sharp thing could not be made into something soft and yielding.

He wanted to force it back into the rubble step by step, but the thing was stubborn and unyielding. Shen Le felt it would rather perish than bow down.

"Does it mean I have to grasp its essence? Damn it, if I could grasp its essence, I wouldn't need to fix it! Is there any hint? Is there a wheelchair...?"

Shen Le grew increasingly anxious as the fight progressed. Unlike last time, when he had the sword technique manual provided by the gold-plated tablet, this time he had nothing—

Left with no other option, Shen Le had to apply the same principles he used to deal with the golden light of the Dragon Lord's Dharma Boat, dismantling the golden light within the rubble piece by piece. In a way, they were similar; both possessed a relentless, unwavering determination to achieve their goal…

Shen Le patiently unleashed the golden light he had comprehended, as if he had returned to the front of the main hall of Xianyang Palace, killing with every step he took, fighting a bloody battle on the long steps.

A series of rapid clanging sounds rang out. The golden light suddenly became agitated, charging left and right, constantly trying to tear through Shen Le's attacks, rush outwards, or smash the descending mechanical arm to pieces;

But gradually, Shen Le discovered that the golden light he unleashed could penetrate deep into the platinum-gold radiance that flew out from the wrecked iron. Or rather, the tips of their impact began to show signs of merging—

There is a door!

Shen Le was slightly pleased. He reduced the intensity of his attack, making it sharper rather than heavier, and swirled up and down, chasing and slashing at his opponent.

Attack once, release a little, absorb a little, attack again, release a little more, absorb a little more...

He didn't know how many attacks he had made, but suddenly everything became clear. The golden light had receded by more than half, and the remaining half clung to the outside of Shen Le's spiritual power, almost sticking firmly to it.

Shen Le breathed a long sigh of relief:

Finally done!
Amitabha Buddha, I hope this is the last battle. I hope that lump of rotten wood won't get another beating from him—

If all else fails, when we're repairing the wood, he can just pour nutrient solution into the earthenware jar and cast a growth spell so I can take the thing out!
We still need to retrieve it now. The robotic arm slowly descends, the robotic gripper retracts, the magnet holds it in place, and it is lifted out little by little.

After arranging the items in the storage box, Shen Le quickly grabbed a scanning probe and stuffed it into the earthenware urn.

"Hopefully, this thing wasn't rotten like this when it was put away... At least it would leave a mark on the bottom and sides of the earthenware jar... Otherwise, I really can't guess what it originally looked like..."

Not every item is so lucky as to be wrapped in a famous silk roll!
(End of this chapter)