In the 90s, you could acquire max-level skills every 14 days.

Wei Shuyun stood next to the bookshelf, carrying a canvas bag with the spines of several foreign language books peeking out.

She was wearing a beige dress, her hair was loose, and her bangs were a little messy from the wind.

The scent of laundry soap wafted over on the breeze.

She looked puzzled as she saw Zhang Yong squatting on the ground flipping through "Principles of Internal Combustion Engines".

Why are you looking at this?

"Just flipping through it."

"Weren't you learning to drive? What, driving isn't enough for you, you want to learn to fix cars too?"

Zhang Yong closed the book, stood up, and dusted off his pants.

"I learned to drive to make money, and I learned to repair cars to understand cars."

"So you write novels?" Wei Shuyun tilted her head. "Is it also to make money?"

Zhang Yong was stunned for a moment.

How did she know he was writing novels?

Wei Shuyun pulled a magazine out of her canvas bag.

"October".

The cover displays today's date. On the front page, four large characters read: "The Ingenuity of a Great Nation's Craftsmen."

Author: Zhang Yong

"A-Yong's college entrance exam results were not ideal—"

She read the first line of the novel word by word, then looked up and stared straight at him.

"Did you write this?"

Zhang Yong remained silent for two seconds.

He really didn't expect "October" to be published so quickly—Zhou Deqing said he would try to publish it on Saturday, and he really did keep his word.

"Yes, I wrote it."

Wei Shuyun turned to the page with the author's biography in the magazine.

The description is only one line long.

Zhang Yong was born in 1972 and is from Beijing.

"You wrote very well," Wei Shuyun said softly. "I bought it at a newsstand this morning and read it on the bus the whole way; I almost missed my stop."

Wei Shuyun lowered her head, her fingers touching the magazine cover.

"I was sitting next to a middle-aged man in overalls who kept peeking at the book I was holding. When I turned to the last paragraph, I looked up and noticed that the man's eyes were red."

Zhang Yong didn't know what to say.

In my past life, I wrote hundreds of comments criticizing others' writing, but I had almost no experience of being praised.

"It's not very well written; there are many areas that need improvement."

Zhang Yong paused for a moment and then told the truth.

"I've written many technical details vaguely because I don't actually understand them."

Wei Shuyun looked up. "You don't understand, how could you write it like this?"

Wei Shuyun looked at the book "Principles of Internal Combustion Engines" in Zhang Yong's hand.

"What if you really understood it?"

Zhang Yong looked into Wei Shuyun's eyes and his heart stirred for a second.

"So I'm learning." He patted the book in his hand.

Wei Shuyun smiled.

The sunlight shone on her gentle face, casting a small patch of light.

......

After leaving Xinhua Bookstore, the two walked for a while.

There were ice cream carts by the roadside, with red flags stuck on the cart boxes.

On the right is an old locust tree, its leaves rustling in the wind.

The sounds of bicycle bells, bus announcements, and vendors' calls mingled together in the distance.

This was an ordinary afternoon in Beijing in 1990.

"Which bus are you taking?" Zhang Yong asked.

"Bus number 37, it's two stops east." Wei Shuyun switched the canvas bag to the other shoulder. "And you?"

"I walked back; it wasn't far."

Wei Shuyun nodded, hesitated for a moment, then took out the copy of "October" from her canvas bag and handed it to him.

"for you."

"You bought it, you keep it."

"I bought two more books." Wei Shuyun shook the canvas bag; there were indeed more items inside. "One is for my dad, and I'll keep the other for myself. This extra one is for you to read when you get home."

"No need, the magazine said they'd save some for me... Okay... Thank you."

Looking into Wei Shuyun's bright eyes, Zhang Yong still took the magazine as if possessed, the magazine still warm from Wei Shuyun's hand.

"You're welcome." Wei Shuyun smiled sweetly, took two steps back, and waved to him.

Good luck on your exam! Special driving test!

She turned and walked quickly toward the bus stop, her ponytail swinging behind her shoulder.

Standing under the locust tree, Zhang Yong suddenly remembered his mother's instructions.

"My mom said the mung bean cake is delicious! I'll treat you to honey-glazed pastries next time!"

"Okay, please thank Auntie for me, see you next time!"

Watching her figure disappear into the crowd, Zhang Yong looked down at the magazine in his hand.

The four characters "Great Power Craftsmanship" on the cover shone brightly in the sunlight.

The panel flickered at the edge of the field of vision.

[Writing Lv.4: Progress 18%]

[Driving Lv.5: Progress 21% (fixed)]

Zhang Yong rolled up the magazine and tucked it into his waistband, then started walking towards Jinsong.

His mind was filled with Wei Shuyun's words.

"What if you really understood it?"

What if one day he could make all those things described in the book himself?

Zhang Yong walked slowly down the street, casually switching the driver back to the idle position.

The special driving test is in three days. Once the driving skill reaches Lv.6, the skill association tree will be activated, lowering the entry threshold for other mechanical skills.

After the assessment, go to the cotton mill and find Old Zhao to disassemble the engine. Once you unlock the basics of auto repair, you can become a master in 14 days by putting it in the spare tire bay.

As for writing, I'll stay at level 4 for now and just contribute articles each month to earn a little living expense.

The plan is very clear.

Zhang Yong looked up at the sky over Beijing.

The sky was blue, and there was no smog.

Take it slow. Everything will be better.

Zhang Yong muttered to himself.

……

By the time I got home, the sun was already setting.

Zhang Yong had just turned into the apartment building and reached the second floor when he heard Li Guilan's voice coming from upstairs.

Li Guilan stood at the window in the stairwell and shouted down at the top of her lungs.

"Uncle Chen! Uncle Chen! Who made that call? Please say it again! I didn't hear you!"

Mr. Chen, an old man in his sixties who works in the mailroom on the first floor, is hard of hearing and squats downstairs, craning his neck to reply.

"They've called twice already! They said they're looking for your Zhang Yong! A young girl!"

"Little girl? Where are you from?"

"I didn't say! Just that her surname is Wei! Tell Zhang Yong to call her back when he gets back! I've written her number on a note!"

Zhang Yong stopped at the corner of the stairs.

Li Guilan's voice had moved from the window into the hallway, and it was so loud that the whole floor could hear it.

"Son! You're finally back! A young lady is looking for you! Her surname is Wei! She's called twice already!"

The door on the third floor opened, and the door on the fourth floor also opened.

One by one, the neighbors' heads peeked out from under the door.

Zhang Yong stood in the middle of the stairs and sighed. "Mom."

"what?"

"Could you please keep your voice down?"

"What's wrong? There's nothing shameful about dating!"

Sun Jian's wife, who was on the fifth floor, also poked her head out, her brows furrowed.

Zhang Yong ran upstairs quickly and grabbed Li Guilan, pulling her into the house.

"Mom, let's talk inside, let's talk inside!"

The door slammed shut behind me.

Li Guilan was pulled into the living room by Zhang Yong, a smile on her face.

"What's the rush? That girl said you should call her back!"

Zhang Yong picked up the note on the table by the door, which had a phone number written on it.

Something important?

Didn't she just say everything in the bookstore?

Zhang Yong looked at the number on the slip of paper, pondering why he was making the call.

There must be some urgent matter at hand.