Studying at Western University starts with a knife-forging competition

Lin Yuan sat in the workshop, copying the video to a USB drive and then saving a copy to his phone. He then opened the audition registration page and dragged the video into the upload bar. The progress bar turned green segment by segment, and his fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the table.

Upload complete. The page will then display a green message: Your application materials have been submitted. The review period is approximately seven to ten business days. Please check your email for notifications.

He stared at the line of text for a few seconds, then closed the webpage and unplugged the USB drive.

Sunlight streamed in through the high windows, casting patches of light on the workshop floor. The coke in the furnace had long since cooled, but the air still carried a faint smell of rust and machine oil. He'd been here for almost two years. From the first time he'd been choked by the smell when he opened the door, to now being able to find the switch on any piece of equipment with his eyes closed.

He put the tools away. He unloaded the grinding belt from the grinder, rolled it up, and put it back in the cabinet. He swept the slag off the anvil. He hung the forging hammer back on the tool wall in its old, worn-out spot. Everything was restored to a state even cleaner than before it was used—as his father said, a blacksmith's hands can be dirty, but his workbench cannot. A messy workbench is a messy mind.

Then he opened the door and went out. The March wind blew through the corridor, carrying the scent of freshly cut grass.

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At 7:50 a.m. on Saturday, Lin Yuan waited downstairs at the dormitory building.

The white Toyota Camry appeared at the end of the road right on time, about three minutes earlier than agreed. The car parked in its usual spot—the one closest to the entrance. The window rolled down, revealing a clean-looking face.

Emily Wayne.

Her long, black hair wasn't tied up today; it fell loose over her shoulders, the ends slightly curled. She wore a light gray cotton top, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a dark blue hair tie around her wrist. She smiled at Lin Yuan—not the polite, friendly but not warm smile from last time. The corners of her mouth turned up two millimeters, and her eyes held a hint of confirmation.

"morning."

"Good morning." Lin Yuan opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.

The car was as clean as ever. The canvas bag in the back seat was open, revealing several bottles of water, a few individually wrapped packets of biscuits, and a bag of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap. The small wooden cross next to the dashboard swayed gently with the car's vibrations.

Emily started the car and casually turned the air conditioning down a notch. The car drove out of the campus and onto the main road leading into the city. There weren't many cars on Saturday morning, and sunlight filtered through the gaps in the roadside trees, casting patches of light on the windshield.

"Matt said you submitted the video." Emily looked ahead.

"Yes. I handed it in last night."

He said he filmed the quenching scene for you.

"Yes. The shot was quite steady."

Emily's smile widened slightly. "He used to take birthday photos of me, and his fingers could block half the lens."

He said it works on the same principle as a gun.

Emily glanced at him sideways, her expression caught between "This is really Matt" and "I can't even argue with that." She shook her head, the slight smile lingering on her lips.

He also said you didn't make enough braised pork.

"I made it today. I brought two portions."

"One copy for the professor?"

"Yes. The other one—" Lin Yuan paused for a moment, "is for that old man from last time. He said the cookies were delicious."

Emily's fingers twitched slightly on the steering wheel. She didn't turn her head; her gaze remained fixed ahead, but her voice was a little softer than before.

"You remember that."

"I remember."

The car passed the same traffic light as before; the zebra crossing was deserted, no one was pushing a stroller across the road. The shadows of the roadside trees fell on the road, rolled over one by one by the wheels. Emily didn't continue speaking, but Lin Yuan noticed that she took her right hand off the steering wheel, adjusted the dark blue hair tie on her wrist, and then put it back.

This is something she only does when she's relaxed.

The car turned into the old street where the relief station was located. The road surface began to become potholed, and the neat rows of detached houses on both sides were replaced by gray apartment buildings, with iron fences welded to the entrances of convenience stores. The graffiti on the walls had been covered with another layer, new colors pressing on top of old colors, like layers of scabs that could not be completely removed.

The police car was already parked in front of the church. The portly policeman leaned against the car door, holding a paper cup, steam rising from its rim. He saw the white Toyota and raised the cup as a greeting. Emily nodded to him.

After parking the car, Emily picked up her canvas bag from the back seat. Lin Yuan followed her towards the side entrance of the church. As they passed the police cars, the portly policeman's gaze lingered on Lin Yuan for a moment before shifting away. He had been here before, witnessing the chaos at the entrance. His expression remained unjudged; he simply took another sip of coffee.

Inside the door was the same downward staircase. The steps were narrow, and the concrete floor was worn smooth and shiny. The handwritten signs on the wall were still there, the handwriting neat but somewhat childish. The fluorescent lights in the basement hummed, their bluish-white light making everyone's faces look as if they were covered with a layer of dust.

Stainless steel platters were already laid out on the long table. Sandwiches were neatly arranged, boiled eggs were piled in a large bowl, and cartons of milk were stacked in several piles. The smell of bleach in the air was fainter than last time, mixed with the aroma of bread.

The line had already begun. An elderly woman pushing a shopping cart was first in line; she was still missing a wheel and was limping as she pushed it. Behind her stood a middle-aged man in an old suit, briefcase in hand, his shirt collar faded but neatly ironed. The boy with the faded tattoo on his arm from last time huddled at the back of the line, his shoulders still hunched over.

Emily placed the canvas bag in the corner locker and took an apron from the wall to tie it on. Then she took another one, and Chong Linyuan held it up to her. This time he didn't refuse and took it to put it on. The apron had the church's logo printed on it, and the fabric had been washed many times, with slightly frayed edges.

"You're in charge of the milk," Emily said. "Same as last time."

"OK."

Lin Yuan stood behind the long table and began handing out milk.

The old lady pushing the shopping cart looked up at him as she took the milk. Her grey-blue eyes made out his face through their murky light, and then her lips twitched.

"You were here last time too."

"right."

She carefully placed the milk into the mesh bag on the side of the shopping cart and slowly pushed it forward. After taking two steps, she turned back.

"That little girl," she said, "was she alright later?"

Lin Yuan's finger paused on the milk carton for a moment.

"fine."

The old lady nodded and didn't ask any more questions. She pushed her cart and limped towards the sandwich shop.

The line moved forward little by little. Lin Yuan's hands repeated the same action—picking up the milk, handing it out, picking up the milk, handing it out. The fluorescent lights buzzed, mingling with the breathing of the crowd. The middle-aged man in the old suit nodded as he took the milk, without saying a word. The black stains on his fingers were still there. The young mother with the child from last time wasn't there today; Lin Yuan glanced towards the door, but didn't see her.

Then he saw the three people.

A woman in purple, a bearded man, and a man in a baseball cap. They stood at the other end of the long table, distributing sandwiches from a large tray to each person's plate. The woman in purple was wearing the same dark purple cardigan as before, and her hair was still permed into fine curls close to her scalp. The bearded man's beard was still unevenly trimmed, with the left side longer than the right. The man in the baseball cap had the brim pulled down low, obscuring his eyes.

They also saw Lin Yuan.