Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

Chapter 123

There were only the two of them in the elevator. Matt leaned against the elevator wall, his hands in his pockets, watching the floor numbers jump down one by one.

"Aren't you tempted by Anna?" he asked.

"Unmoved."

Why?

Lin Yuan looked at his reflection in the elevator door. "She wasn't serious. She'd had a few drinks, the atmosphere was right, she was just saying it casually. If I had taken it seriously, I would have just been asking for trouble."

Matt chuckled and said nothing more.

The elevator reached the first floor, and the two walked through the lobby and out of the apartment building. A gentle evening breeze carried the scent of grass and earth. There weren't many cars left in the parking lot; Matt's car sat alone under a streetlamp, a few oak leaves clinging to its roof.

Lin Yuan opened the car door and got in, taking out his keychain from his pocket and glancing at it. The dark blue keychain hung between his dormitory key and workshop key, the knot tightly braided, the silver beads reflecting a tiny glimmer in the dim light of the dial.

He put the keychain back in his pocket, leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes.

Matt started the car and drove out of the parking lot. The light from the streetlights streaked across the windshield in patches, and the only sound inside the car was the low hum of the tires rolling over the road.

"Do you know how long it took her to make that keychain?" Matt suddenly asked.

Lin Yuan opened his eyes and glanced at him.

"Last week she asked me for a picture of your keys," Matt said. "I said, 'Why do you need a picture of your keys?' and she said, 'Never mind.'"

Later I found out that she made the knot length according to the shape of your key's teeth; she was afraid that if it was too short, it wouldn't hang up.

Lin Yuan didn't speak. He turned to look out the window, where the shadows of the roadside trees slid across the car.

"I'm not saying this to make any particular point," Matt said, turning the steering wheel slightly. "I'm just stating a fact."

The car stopped downstairs at the dormitory building. Lin Yuan opened the car door, carrying the insulated bag upstairs. Someone was on the phone in the hallway, speaking very quietly, so he couldn't hear what they were saying. He took out his keys to open the door; the insulated bag was on the kitchen counter, and his keychain was next to the dining table.

He sat at the dining table and glanced at the keychain. The deep blue knot appeared even darker under the warm yellow light, and there was a very fine scratch on the surface of the silver bead—not a flaw, but a small scratch from a fingernail during the braiding process, barely noticeable unless you looked closely.

He stood up, turned off the living room light, and went back to his room.

The streetlights outside the window were still on, their orange glow casting small patches of light on the floor through the curtains. He lay in bed, pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, and closed his eyes.

The sound of keyboard typing came from Matt's room in the hallway, the rhythm even, similar to the frequency of his hammering when forging.

Frank called on Wednesday afternoon.

Lin Yuan was in the workshop giving Richard's knight's sword a final normalizing treatment on its silver-iron alloy core. The temperature in the furnace was stable within the critical range, and the oxide scale on the surface of the sword blank was turning from dark gray to light gray. He took off his gloves, took out his phone from his pocket, and walked to the workshop entrance to answer the call.

"Lin Yuan, what's your decision about the bass fishing competition?" Frank's voice came through the receiver, with birdsong in the background, making it sound like it was outdoors. "The competition starts this weekend, and the registration deadline is tomorrow noon. If you want to go, I'll register you."

Lin Yuan leaned against the iron gate frame at the entrance of the workshop, looking at the pecan grove across the parking lot. In late March in South Carolina, the leaves had already transitioned from light green to dark green, and the wind blew through the canopy, carrying the scent of pine needles and hay.

"Go," he said. "How much is the registration fee? I'll transfer it to you."

"The registration fee isn't expensive, and shore fishing is even cheaper. But don't you already have a boat?" Frank's tone implied, "You should use that boat. Your Ranger is just gathering dust on the side of the workshop; why not take it out and give it a try? Boat fishing registration is a bit more expensive than shore fishing, but you have a much wider range of fishing spots. Your boat has a shallow draft, so you can go into many bays that shore fishing can't reach."

Lin Yuan thought for a moment. The boat had been parked on the open ground next to the workshop ever since it was bought, covered by a trailer cover, and had never been used. Richard had given him the boat as a "deposit," but the boat itself wouldn't fish. Since he'd already signed up, he might as well make the most of it.

"Are there any additional procedures required for boat fishing rigs?"

"No need. A boat is all you need. We'll meet at the dock at 6:30 a.m. on the day of the competition, and the competition will officially start at 7:00 a.m. You just need to tow the boat to the dock in advance, launch it, drive it to the fishing spot, and wait for the starting whistle to blow before you can start fishing." Frank paused for a moment, "I'll briefly explain the rules to you. Boat fishing rigs can use a gasoline engine to drive to the fishing spot, but you must turn off the engine after arriving."

Throughout the fishing trip, you can only move the boat using an electric propeller or manual rowing. The gasoline engine can only be used when moving to a new fishing spot, and fishing is prohibited during this time; you must reel in your line.

"Understood. Drive to the destination, turn off the engine, and switch to electric propulsion."

"Yes. And one more thing—the boundary of the competition area is marked by buoys, and you can't go out of bounds. The referees will be watching with binoculars at the dock, and there are also patrol boats patrolling the area. If you're caught out of bounds, your entire catch for the day will be forfeited."

Lin Yuan mentally reviewed the rules. His boat had an electric propulsion system, front-controlled, with steering via foot pedals. He hadn't tried it yet, but the operating logic wasn't complicated; he should be able to get the hang of it after a day of practice in the water.

"Help me sign up. Boat fishing group."

"Okay. I'll send you the registration link. You can fill in the information yourself. You need to fill in the ship's brand and model, as well as the engine horsepower." Frank hung up the phone after saying that, and a few seconds later he sent a message with a website address and a registration number.

Lin Yuan walked back to the workshop, sat down at the computer in the office area, and opened the registration page. The form wasn't long, containing personal information, contact details, and boat information. He filled in "Ranger" for the boat brand, "188MS" for the model, and "Mercury 115hp" for the engine. After submitting, the page redirected to a confirmation screen, showing successful registration and the participant number was...

47 number.

He took a screenshot and saved it to his phone, then stood up and walked to the materials shelf. He took out the user manual from the drawer, which Richard had brought with him on the ship. He had only flipped through it before and hadn't looked at it carefully.

There was a chapter in the manual specifically about the operation of the electric propulsion system. He leaned against the material rack and studied it for more than ten minutes, figuring out the logic of the control pedals: pressing the left pedal turns the bow to the left, pressing the right pedal turns it to the right, and pressing it deeper makes the steering faster.

Forward and backward movement are controlled by the handle; pushing it all the way forward and pulling it all the way back are for stepless speed adjustment.

"What are you looking at?" Matt walked in from the workshop entrance, carrying two cups of coffee, and handed one to him.

"The boat's instruction manual. We'll need it for the race this weekend."