The old things I repaired have become fine

Chapter 804 Shen Le, how did you become so scary!
"Repairing gold-plated tablets is much easier than repairing bamboo slips!"

"Most importantly, the gold-plated slab is sturdy; you don't have to worry about it suddenly breaking when you move it around..."

Shen Le went back and forth between the storage boxes. He piled up a batch of kaolin and began casting a spell; then he piled up another batch of kaolin and began casting another spell.

While channeling the power of earth into the gold-plated slab, I sensed its spirituality and carefully nurtured it, allowing this tiny, flame-like spirituality to gradually grow:
Compared to bamboo slips, the restoration of gold-painted tablets presents both challenges and ease. The ease lies in the fact that gold-painted tablets are sturdy and resistant to breakage; even with a bit of force, they won't shatter before your eyes.

The difficulty lies in carefully balancing the fragile elements of Earth, Fire, and Metal. An increase in Earth will subtly cultivate and strengthen the inherent Metal element.
However, the growth of metal will turn around and counteract the power of fire, just as the flames in a steel furnace can melt steel, but if there is too much steel and the flames are too small, they will extinguish the flames.

As the fire element's power diminishes, the force that held the gold-plated tablets together and prevented them from maintaining their shape for so long begins to disappear, and this thing dares to scatter like that... Damn! It's too much trouble for the restorers!

Shen Le walked a tightrope carefully among several different forces, repairing and sensing at the same time.

If the metallic aura within the bamboo slips was merely due to long-term storage in the box and subsequent patina, then this gold-leafed plate possesses a faint yet solid and lingering metallic aura:

Shen Le didn't know whether the power of this golden energy came from the sword moves recorded on the gold-plated tablet or from the person who carved the sword moves stroke by stroke on it.

However, he knew that this golden aura was the key that led him to glimpse the ancient swordsmanship and unlock the secrets of the lacquer box, and it was crucial that it must not be damaged under any circumstances!
"Ah... the restoration is done, but it feels completely unchanged..." He finished restoring a piece of gold-leafed slab, took a closer look at it through the glass case, and then raised his camera to take a picture:
"I suspect that if you put the repaired gold-plated slab next to the unrepaired one, neither Professor Hu nor any of the other teachers would be able to tell that I had touched it?"

That's impossible, of course. Not to mention the pile of kaolin around the storage box, which has completely collapsed and crumbled, looking as if its essence has been drained away;

Take this safe deposit box, for example. It has been placed on the electronic scale, and the reading has increased significantly compared to before.

Professor Hu, or any other professor, even if they did no other research, didn't take the gold-plated plate for X-ray diffraction scanning, or didn't examine it closely under a microscope, they would at least weigh it!
Anyway, it's his stuff, he can fix it however he wants. Shen Le muttered a complaint and continued working diligently. Piece by piece, piece by piece, piece after piece, filling in the gaps, observing, feeling—

Gradually, the faint golden aura within the gilded plaque began to stir, like a swordsman awakened from a thousand years of slumber.

Shen Le vaguely felt that the stick figures on the gold-plated board, holding long swords, daggers, or some other weapons, began to move rapidly.

Soaring high, crouching low, turning, leaping—or, at first it seemed without any warning, the posture and movements were all normal, but as they brushed past each other, a cold light suddenly flashed—

While repairing a gold-plated plaque, Shen Le simply observed the pictures on it and silently pondered the moves.
The process of restoring the five gold-plated slabs involved no unusual observation, thought, or contemplation.
By the time he finished repairing the tenth piece, Shen Le felt a strange force pulling at his mind and disturbing his thoughts.

He was clearly trying to fill the gold-plated slab with earth elemental power, but for a moment he was distracted, and he wanted to grab a dagger, or even make a virtual dagger out of his fingers, and start waving it around in the laboratory.

When only two or three pieces remain to be repaired, this pulling and interfering force becomes even stronger and more undeniable.

Shen Le almost had to force herself to remain in a meditative state, her mind as still as water from beginning to end, just to prevent this golden energy from suddenly going astray.

What would happen if it went off track?
He would cut the gold-plated plate into pieces, forcing him to piece it back together one by one, grain by grain.

Or worse, the gold-plated slabs would be chopped into extremely fine powder, so fine that they couldn't be pieced together. They would have to be swept together from the beginning, mixed with clay and water, and then fired again in the kiln.
So, does he need to spend his own money to add another batch of gold powder?
In order to avoid budget deficits and to prevent damage to the cultural relics, Shen Le focused intently and finally managed to repair the last piece of gold-plated plaque with great difficulty.

As soon as the repairs were finished, all the storage boxes emitted a simultaneous "humming" sound, followed by a series of clicking and clattering sounds.

"do not!"

Shen Le jumped up like a rabbit shot by an arrow, spreading her arms wide and lunging straight at him.

Unreservedly, it unleashed its spiritual power, catching all the cracked, shattered, and scattered pieces of tempered glass, attempting to push them back into place—

However, it's impossible, it's not feasible, and besides, even if they were reset, it wouldn't make a difference. The air in the laboratory was frantically rushing into the storage box, frantically coming into contact with the gold-plated panels inside:
Shen Le's only consolation was that these gold-plated slabs were made of microcrystalline kaolin, which was resistant to oxidation and would not deteriorate upon contact with air...

"So what do you want? What exactly are you trying to achieve by all this trouble?"

He muttered to himself, as if asking all the gold-plated plaques, or perhaps asking himself.

With a slight dissipation of his spiritual energy, the tempered glass fell like snowflakes, while Shen Le's spiritual energy met the rising and leaping golden light on each of the gold-plated slabs!

"Holding a sword as if dead... crawling like a servant, not wanting anyone to know... drawing the sword like lightning, without the slightest hesitation..."

A passage of text that did not exist on bamboo slips, nor recorded on gold-plated tablets, nor even in the memory of bamboo slips, suddenly appeared in Shen Le's mind.

As if pulled by silken threads, or as if possessed by some inexplicable force, Shen Le stood up stiffly, her hands hanging down, her shoulders hunched, and she took small steps forward.

As he walked, he suddenly swung his arm, his left index and middle fingers pointing outwards like a gleaming dagger, lightly slicing across the throat of the non-existent person who had brushed past him...

Then, he changed his stance, slightly bent his knees, lowered his back, and raised his elbows slightly outward.

Make a hollow fist with one palm facing forward and the other palm facing backward, as if you are simultaneously gripping two daggers, one upright and one backward:
Swaying left and right, as fluid as flowing water, he moved back and forth among the long tables, swivel chairs, boxes, and various instruments in the laboratory, without disturbing a speck of dust beneath his feet.

The arms swing occasionally, sometimes with a large amplitude, sometimes with an extremely small amplitude.

After circling around and around again, a golden aura gradually emerged in front of the open hand, cutting through the air with a whooshing sound.

The women in their flowing skirts had already found cover, some hiding behind safes, others pressed themselves under tables, even concealing their long, dark hair, all watching Shen Le's every move with trepidation.
When will the boss finish?

[I wonder... could he be possessed by a ghost?]

[It shouldn't be that bad... What kind of ghost could possess the boss? The boss is very strong! Look at that life-giving flame, shining brightly, it doesn't waver at all!]

[But he's like this...you're telling me he's practicing martial arts? I don't believe it! When did our boss become so interested in martial arts?!]

Shen Le certainly didn't love practicing martial arts. However, on the gold-plated slab, the little stick figure leaped and darted about in the void, or perhaps within his sea of ​​consciousness, practicing various martial arts techniques.

With each swing of the sword, dagger, and saber, the golden light within the earthenware jar would subtly ripple, as if echoing its movement. Having such a teacher guiding him step by step was a rare opportunity, so Shen Le naturally wanted to seize the time and learn these techniques with all his might, until he had mastered them perfectly!

Slow down, slow down even more!
No matter how hard you practice, no matter how much you pray in your heart that it will slow down, the golden light still quietly recedes, dims, and shrinks back into the gold-plated plate, remaining motionless.

Shen Le let out a long sigh of relief, only then did he feel the sweat on his body gradually dry up, and the chilling killing intent from ancient times in his chest also calmed down.

He composed himself slightly, looked around, and suddenly jumped up:
"Come help! Move the pieces aside! Clear the table! Hurry!"

With a few swishes, the skirts that were stuck in the gaps between the safe and the wall, or under the table, flew in from all directions.

Before the person even arrived, countless strands of black hair and flowing sleeves extended simultaneously, sweeping away all the tempered glass shards that had fallen from the broken safe deposit box onto the ground.

Then, the various cups, pens, notebooks, and other odds and ends on the table were cleverly wrapped up by Qing Si and neatly placed aside, leaving a long, flat tabletop.

Shen Le quickly put on gloves, spread out the isolation paper on the table, and then carefully picked up the gold-plated slabs.

Following the order of spiritual flow and resonance perceived during the restoration, I quickly arranged them on the table, placing them neatly in a row.

Soon, the faint golden aura of these lacquered boxes and buried underground began to connect, and the stick figures on them gradually began to leap and soar.

"Looks like there's no mistake." Shen Le checked it over from beginning to end and nodded in satisfaction.

Despite the recent clatter, the gold-plated slab itself remained completely intact. In fact, because its inherent spirituality had been activated, its surface shimmered with a warm luster, firmly locking in the golden energy.

"You absolutely have to be able to film it... please, please..."

As he muttered to himself, he picked up a professional camera and leaped into the air. He hovered above the rooftop and snapped a series of photos of the neatly arranged gold-plated panels.

Single gold-painted slabs, multiple slabs, a single piece, photographed from above, photographed from the side...

These still images are first-hand data and must be extremely detailed!

After the photoshoot was finished, Shen Le breathed a slight sigh of relief. Seeing two elegantly dressed women push and pull, bringing over an exceptionally tall storage box, she quickly helped take it and carefully placed the gold-plated tablets inside.

Close the chamber door, fill with nitrogen, adjust to constant temperature and humidity mode, and then wave to the skirts:
"Come help me! Help me record a video!"

After a soft rustling sound, several women in flowing skirts stood in different positions, holding various mobile phones and cameras. Some were shooting at eye level, some were shooting from above, and some were even shooting from above the ceiling.

Judging from the looks of it, if there were a professional camera, they would probably have to bring over a camera rail...

"Okay, aim at me... Attention, here we go." Shen Le took a deep breath, stood back in the center of the laboratory, and stood in front of the storage box containing the gold-plated plate.

He no longer needed to look at the patterns on the board. Just standing there, those sharp moves, unpredictable movements, and unique artistic conception naturally surfaced in his mind:
Subconsciously, Shen Le once again adopted that peculiar posture, with his knees slightly bent and his back slightly arched, making his figure seem to shrink a size, trying his best not to attract attention.

He loosely clenched his fists, and just by clenching them, three inches of golden light shot out from the knuckles: one hand clenched upright, moving forward without hesitation; the other hand clenched in reverse, fighting fiercely!

A murderous aura filled the air, causing the women in their flowing skirts to tremble. Two phones nearly fell to the ground, but they managed to retrieve them in time by extending their wide sleeves.

Shen Le had no intention of paying attention to them anymore. His figure suddenly became elusive, no longer moving in a straight line, but rather crawling along the ground, seemingly slippery and slippery.

He moved back and forth in the limited space of the laboratory, circling around long tables, chairs, and boxes, his steps unpredictable and erratic.

Sometimes it slithers like a ghost, sometimes it flees in panic like a frightened servant, and sometimes it crouches down and darts along the sides of boxes and under tables, easily escaping sight if one is not careful.

Suddenly, his right hand, which was loosely clenched, shot out like a snake spitting its tongue. The movement was so small that it left only a blur.

The golden light, three inches from the tiger's mouth, tore through the air with a soft "hiss" sound—that silent throat-slitting strike as it brushed past—if it had landed, one can imagine how high a column of blood it would have ignited!
Shen Le spun around, seemingly consciously avoiding the pillar of blood, and used the force of the spin to stab downwards at an angle with his left arm, which was holding the dagger in reverse.

Even from a great distance, even while floating on the ceiling, several wide sleeves subtly reversed, reaching out to caress one's back:

This strike, aimed at the back of the heart, the lungs, and the kidneys, would at least render the enemy limp and silent, even if it wasn't fatal.

The entire sequence of actions flowed smoothly, vividly portraying the assassination process of stealth, close combat, explosive attacks, long-range escape, or even wreaking havoc in a crowd.

Although there was no real dagger, the sharp golden energy gathered in the tiger's mouth was enough to make people tremble with fear!
Boss...that's scary...

The hem of her skirt, hanging from the ceiling, trembled slightly, and her wide sleeves were almost hanging from the gaps in the fluorescent lights as she tried to keep the camera steady.

This martial arts style doesn't look like something from a reputable sect...

Another woman, Luo Qun, was lying under the table, taking photos from below with her camera, muttering to herself...

"Did you record it?"

Shen Le finally withdrew her stance, her sharp aura gradually subsiding. After a while, the women in flowing skirts dared to gather around from various corners.

[Recording, recording's finished... What's next?]

"It's good that you've finished recording. You've worked hard. Post the video and then get some rest." Shen Le comforted them gently, sending out a gentle stream of spiritual energy that circled around them.
"As for me, I'll try to see if I can fish the contents out of the earthenware jar..."

(End of this chapter)