The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 800 Are bamboo slips still considered cultural relics after all this fuss?

"Ah this..."

"What is this?!"

Professor Hu looked at the green bamboo strips that Shen Le was holding in her hands, and then at Shen Le's face, which was both expectant and a little nervous, and suddenly felt a headache coming on.

His gaze lingered on the lacquer and ink stains on the bamboo strips, then he looked at Shen Le, pressed his right thumb against his temple, rubbed it once, then again.
"Don't tell me that this thing was once bamboo you dug up from the Dragon Palace..."

Shen Le smiled broadly and nodded repeatedly. Professor Hu, seeing this, realized he wasn't just having a headache; his stomach was starting to hurt too.
"...You mean to say that you cut down these bamboo plants that had been soaking in water for hundreds of years until their cell walls were almost collapsing, and that were completely lifeless, and then used magic to pull them up and make them grow into living bamboo?!"

"Professor, you are wise!"

Shen Le gave him a high thumbs up. Professor Hu almost wanted to grab a bamboo stick and whack him a few times on the head.
"Brilliant? What's so brilliant about that?! If you have such abilities, why don't you become Guanyin Bodhisattva? Why don't you sprinkle some sweet dew and revive the ginseng fruit tree?!"

“Because, because…” Shen Le’s eyes began to dart left and right:
"Because I don't want to become a woman?"

"I can't keep arguing with this kid. The longer I talk, the angrier I get, and the higher my blood pressure rises." Professor Hu swallowed a mouthful of blood and sighed deeply.

"So what do you want to do now? You want to use this method to repair all the bamboo slips?"

"It would be good to be able to fix it once, but..."

"But what but! What good what!" Professor Hu couldn't help but exclaim again:
"After you've repaired it like this, are the bamboo slips still considered cultural relics? Can you still convince others that they are cultural relics? Put them in a museum and tell the experts they are cultural relics, see if anyone believes you!"

Indeed. Bamboo slips that have been buried underground for thousands of years, soaked in water, corroded by bacteria for many years, and then oxidized after being unearthed, will inevitably become dull, dark, and heavy in color, no matter how well they are preserved.

Even with the experts' best efforts, including various attempts to salvage and repaint, they could only restore it slightly, making the writing still legible.

Some require painstaking scrutiny to discern even a trace, while others require infrared cameras to capture images of characters deeply embedded within the bamboo slips, completely indistinguishable to the naked eye.

Then, if Shen Le were to use magic to "repair" these waterlogged bamboo slips, turning them into lush, vibrant new bamboo, with lines of writing on them, and display them in a museum...

Goodness, when visitors to the museum see this replica, they think it's so poorly made!
This isn't from the Qin or Han dynasties, nor from the Shang or Zhou dynasties; it's clearly from last week!

Dear teachers, are you all unwilling to put in even a little effort to make it look old, just to appease us?
As for the appearance of these bamboo slips, and whether they would pass muster with museum experts, Professor Hu didn't even want to think about it anymore... Only one thought remained in his mind:

Whatever you do when you go out, don't tell anyone that I taught you your bamboo slip restoration skills...

Uh, it seems like it's too late.

Previously, they used their connections to make phone calls for Shen Le, borrowed bamboo slips from various colleagues, and assigned students to assist Shen Le with research projects. Those in the industry who knew about it probably already knew...

"Ah, well, it's still possible to prove it... right..." Shen Le shuffled her feet along the ground, forcing a smile:

"If we take this bamboo and do a carbon-14 dating, the age should, possibly, probably, be correct...?"

Professor Hu was so angry he almost laughed. He restrained himself, not snatching the bamboo strip, snapping it in half with a snap, and tossing it to Shen Le for carbon-14 analysis. Instead, he picked up his paper and tapped it on the table:

"And then what? Then you write a paper saying you used magic to repair it, restoring it to the texture of new bamboo?!"

Didn't we agree that I wouldn't have to write a paper? ...Even if I did, it would be posted on the Special Affairs Bureau's internal forum, not in archaeology-related journals...

Besides, I've already restored so many cultural relics. If I were to write a paper for every single one of them and every different type of component, the archaeological journals would have exploded long ago!
Although he was thinking this to himself, Shen Le didn't dare to talk back. He just continued to try to smile apologetically.

"However, in any case, the bamboo slips have been repaired in this way, and their strength has been greatly improved. They can be preserved for a much longer time... right?"

Professor Hu was stunned for a moment. All his emotions, those surging feelings of being both angry and amused, and of being both laughing and crying, vanished as if a bucket of ice and snow had been poured over his head.

He sighed softly:
"Yes... no matter what, you fixed it after all... fixing it and preserving it is the most important thing..."

In comparison, whether these cultural relics can be exhibited, how they should be exhibited, or whether they can be published as research papers are all trivial matters...

The original aspiration and most important goal of cultural relic restorers is to repair cultural relics, restore their brilliance, and preserve them for a long time.

Besides, if the paper can't be published, then it's not published; after all, the work of fixing it wasn't done by them.
If a cultural relic cannot be exhibited, then it cannot be exhibited. Alternatively, making a replica is not difficult—which museum hasn't made a few replicas?

"That professor..."

"Then go ahead and do it." Professor Hu raised his arm and waved him away forcefully.
"Go do it! What are you standing here for? Go away! I can't control you anyway, and I don't own this box. I don't have the final say!"

To be honest, the school, the museum, and the Special Affairs Bureau had a falling out over the ownership of this box of artifacts.

In the end, Shen Le silently raised his hand and sealed the victory with a single sentence:

"If it develops its own sentience after being repaired and becomes a spiritual artifact, then it will be up to it to decide where it stays..."

This statement is politically correct to the point of being impeccable—after all, living things are not inanimate objects, and you can't forcibly kidnap them.

However, according to information from the Special Affairs Bureau, the cultural relics that Shen Le had repaired had basically all developed a spiritual quality, and the school had reason to believe that:
Shen Le simply wanted an excuse to keep all these precious cultural relics with him...

He waved his hand twice, but Shen Le remained rooted to the spot in front of his desk, a forced smile on her face.

"Professor Hu..."

"how?"

"The bamboo is strong enough now, but it needs to be dehydrated again... It needs to be dehydrated again while preserving the ink and cinnabar, and ensuring it doesn't deform... This..."

I don't know how, please teach me!
Professor Hu: "..."

Hold back, hold back, this is Old Han's student, you can't hit him, you can't hit him...

Shen Le still has a bunch of cultural relics. If they get damaged, no one will bother to repair them!
Professor Hu took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling as if his chest had become a bellows, expelling his surging, unusual emotions again and again.

It took him a while to compose himself before he stood up from the table: "Alright... come with me! Let's start from the beginning! Let's start with making bamboo slips! — You know how to make bamboo slips, right?"

"will not!"

"It's okay! Follow me and practice!" I'll say it again: which scholar who restores cultural relics doesn't know how to forge, correct, or make replicas?
In a museum, who shows you the real thing all day long? A lot of the real stuff is hidden in storage. For ordinary tourists, showing them some replicas is enough!

Shen Le obediently followed Professor Hu out, personally splitting the bamboo, scraping and trimming it, removing the green and yellow parts of the bamboo, and trimming the edges of the bamboo strips;
Bamboo strips were baked by hand to remove the moisture, and the "sweating" was seen with one's own eyes. Holes were drilled in the bamboo strips by hand and the strips were then bound into a book.
Then, I would hand-polish the bamboo strips to make them smoother and easier to write on, and then, holding a brush, I would write lines of characters on them...

"Teacher, it seems like what we're supposed to do is dehydrate the bamboo slips that already have writing on them, right?"

Shen Le's back ached from grinding the bamboo slips, and his head was spinning from copying scriptures. He couldn't help but ask a question. Professor Hu, with steady hands, held a bamboo slip and polished it with a soft, rhythmic sound, without turning his head.
"Of course. But if I don't take you through it, if I don't let you experience firsthand how the bamboo is gradually dried out, how the moisture is extracted, and how it gradually dries, what will you do next?"
"With a direct feel for it and experience from doing it myself, I'll be more confident in repairing the bamboo slips!"

The professor's reasoning was impeccable, and Shen Le could only patiently try again and again.

However, while the professor moved with effortless grace, crafting each bamboo slip with perfect precision, Shen Le struggled and stumbled throughout.

"Ah! It split open!"

"Oops, it's split again!"

"The bamboo was cut crooked!"

"This cut has left it pitted and uneven again..."

"It was fine before, so why did it crack as soon as I baked it?"

Shen Le was helpless, anxious, and even a little irritable. A pile of bamboo strips had accumulated beside him. Just today alone, he had already sacrificed more than a dozen bamboo pieces.

Professor Hu glanced at him and casually handed over the smooth, even bamboo strip in his hand:

"You're too hasty. Come on, let's see what 'just right' really means."

This is bamboo, not metal. You have to work with it, understand?

Shen Le took the near-perfect bamboo strip, carefully stroking its edges and feeling its smooth, fluid texture.

The bamboo strips made by the professor were perfectly smooth, without any pits or sharp edges.

Look closely, and you'll see the bamboo strips weren't chopped; rather, the fibers separated on their own. This is what's meant by "unstoppable force"—

After breaking the top of the bamboo strip, the long fibers can separate on their own in the direction of the bamboo strip, so there is no need for him to use brute force to cut them!

Shen Le suddenly realized. He compared his own "failed products"—covered in burrs and cracks—took a deep breath, and picked up his tools again.

Split the bamboo into strips, cut off the green and yellow parts, shape them into regular shapes, and slowly bake them.

Through extensive basic practice, Shen Le developed an increasingly profound physical memory of the "dryness," "wetness," "toughness," and "brittleness" of bamboo.

My spiritual energy spread out in countless strands, sensing the bamboo slips gradually dehydrating:
It must be done extremely slowly and with meticulous control. If it is even slightly faster or more hasty, the unbalanced stress in the bamboo fibers will lead to irreversible damage...

With 10 perfect new bamboo slips finally neatly arranged in front of him, Shen Le finally felt confident enough to take another step forward.

From the waterlogged bamboo strips he brought back from the Dragon Palace, he carefully selected a few with ink or cinnabar marks as samples that could be used as substitutes for bamboo slips, and began to restore them:
First, of course, is the Cleaning spell to remove bacteria, followed by the Growth spell to allow it to regrow into a vibrant, fresh, and resilient bamboo strip.

This time, Shen Le concentrated her mental energy highly, carefully guiding the bamboo strips and limiting the range of the spell:
The cytoplasm will grow back!
The cell walls can simply be re-wrapped in cellulose!
Do not allow any other parts to grow on the outside of the bamboo strips, such as the outer skin of the bamboo pole—the green bamboo, or the inside of the bamboo pole—the yellow bamboo!
I want bamboo slips, not bamboo poles!

Oh, and also, the ink and cinnabar on it—wait, how did you manage to get rid of them!
do not!

Shen Le practiced dozens of times before he could ensure that the ink and cinnabar that had seeped into the bamboo were not rejected out during the growth process, but were instead carefully wrapped inside by the new bamboo.

Then, following Professor Hu's instructions, carefully bake the bamboo slips to dehydrate them again:
"It failed... The fire was too high, and the bamboo slips oxidized quite a bit..."

"Failed again... The bamboo slips are warped from baking, even the characters on them are crooked. It's obvious that it was messed up later..."

"Why has this cinnabar turned black! Oh no, it's mercuric oxide..."

You don't know until you do it; you only realize how many pitfalls there are once you've done it yourself.

Shen Le used up most of the marked bamboo strips in the Dragon Palace, almost to the point where he had to shamelessly ask for another batch, and finally honed enough experience.

The final answer is still magic. Magic, more sensitive than any chemical agent or physical device, allows for better control.

Having finally gained confidence, Shen Le took out a bamboo slip with the fewest characters and the least damaged surface, pressed it down with both hands, and closed his eyes.

First cleanse, then grow. Then, his magic power split into two streams, one with pure fire attribute and the other with subtle water attribute, carefully seeping into the bamboo slip.

He restrained the fire elemental power to its limit, transforming it into an invisible yet omnipresent warmth that evenly enveloped the entire bamboo slip, gently and persistently baking it.

At the same time, the power of water penetrates deep into the bamboo slips, resonating with every drop of moisture within, gently, slowly, and evenly guiding the water out—

It's not rising, it's not evaporating, it's just that you're asked to leave...

His mind was more focused than ever before, and two opposing magical powers advanced simultaneously, as if he were walking a tightrope.

On the one hand, it is necessary to maintain the stability and gentleness of fire-type power, and there must be no sudden rise in temperature:
Bamboo slips must not be charred or deformed, the carbon in ink must not be burned at high temperatures, and the mercury in cinnabar must not be oxidized or even sublimated.
On the other hand, it is necessary to precisely control the extraction speed and path of the water system to ensure that the water is carried away evenly.

Even a single bamboo strip cannot be left dry on one side and wet on the other; otherwise, the uneven internal stress will cause the bamboo strip to crack in no time!

After an unknown amount of time, the bamboo slips finally returned to a dry state, as if they had just been moved from a fire.

Shen Le breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the excellent flexibility within the bamboo's body, and slowly withdrew his magic power:
A brand new, perfect bamboo slip lay quietly before me.

(End of this chapter)