The dating reality show host just wanted to give up, but the rich girl fell for him.

Sunlight streamed through the dusty window of the storage room in Building C, casting its rays onto the mottled wooden table.

There was an indescribable strange smell in the air.

It has the unique sour and astringent taste of raw lacquer, mixed with the wheat aroma of flour and a hint of sea breeze saltiness.

Lin Mo sat at the table, holding a bamboo stick in his hand, and was stirring rapidly in a small bowl.

The bowl contained a clump of grayish-brown, viscous paste.

That was a "lacquer paste" made by mixing raw lacquer and flour in a specific ratio.

This ancient adhesive is rarely seen in this era where super glue is everywhere.

The live stream chat was still flooded with comments, and the wave of doubts kept growing.

Is this guy kneading dough? Is he going to fry dough sticks?

[Flour can stick porcelain? Isn't that nonsense? It'll dissolve as soon as it gets wet!]

[Was Lin Mo so angry at Zhao Kuo that he went mad? This is an antique! Don't mess with it!]

Jiang Ruoyun squatted to the side, gripping the edge of the table tightly with both hands, not daring to breathe.

Looking at Lin Mo's hands, which were as steady as Mount Tai, she felt a mix of emotions.

"Lin Mo... will this really stick?"

Jiang Ruoyun asked softly, her voice like a startled mosquito, "This is Ding ware...it's very expensive..."

Lin Mo didn't even look up, and gently scraped the rim of the bowl with the bamboo strip in his hand.

"Our ancestors used this thing to stick things together thousands of years ago."

"Back then, there was no super glue or AB glue."

Lin Mo glanced at her and said in a nonchalant tone, "Don't worry, once it's completely dry, it'll be even more durable than your Hermes bag."

After saying that, he put down the bamboo strip.

The once lazy "slacker" suddenly changed his demeanor at this moment.

He put on his slightly worn dust glasses, and his gaze became extremely sharp and focused.

It's like a top surgeon about to perform brain surgery.

"tweezers."

Lin Mo extended his hand, his voice brief and forceful.

Jiang Ruoyun was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly rummaged through her toolbox and pulled out a pair of tweezers, handing them over.

"Here...for you."

Lin Mo took the tweezers and picked up the largest piece.

Use a bamboo stick to pick up a little bit of lacquer paste and apply it evenly and thinly to the broken cross-section.

Not too much, not too little, as thin as a cicada's wing.

Then, the second fragment.

Align, fit, squeeze.

The excess paint was squeezed out, and Lin Mo immediately picked it away with a bamboo skewer, his movements so fast that they were almost invisible.

Without any aids, it relies entirely on feel and eyesight.

Two pieces of porcelain, which were originally broken, fit together perfectly in his hands as if they were magnetic.

Holy crap... that hand is frighteningly steady!

[I'm a model maker, and this level of precision is incredible! No excess glue, no misalignment!]

This technique looks quite professional; it doesn't seem like something you'd just do haphazardly.

[Don't be so quick to praise it, it's not finished yet, and that dark line looks awful!]

Time passed by, second by second.

The only sounds in the small house in Building C were the sound of the waves and the two people breathing.

A fine layer of sweat appeared on Lin Mo's forehead.

This kind of extremely precise restoration work is incredibly mentally taxing, even more exhausting than fighting that giant grouper in the sea.

A bead of sweat slid down his temple, about to drip into the still-damp cup.

"Wipe your sweat."

Lin Mo kept his hands fixed in the same position, his voice hoarse.

Jiang Ruoyun reacted extremely quickly.

Without thinking, she simply lifted her sleeve—it was the sleeve of Lin Mo's dirty windbreaker.

She gently and tenderly wiped his forehead.

The two were very close.

Jiang Ruoyun could even smell the faint scent of sweat on Lin Mo, mixed with the smell of raw lacquer.

It doesn't smell bad; on the contrary, it has a reassuring, masculine scent.

Her face flushed instantly, and her heart skipped a beat.

Ahhh! That sweat-wiping motion is so natural!

Is this the legendary "a beautiful woman adding fragrance to one's sleeves"? Even though they're fixing up trash, it's so sweet!

[Jiang Ruoyun's gaze... Oh no, the young lady is completely smitten.]

Zhao Kuo is on his way, sword in hand.

It took a long three hours.

The sun has moved from the east to due south.

The pile of despairing fragments on the table finally stood up again.

The warm, smooth Ding kiln white porcelain cup has been restored to its original shape.

only……

Their appearance is really not flattering.

Because raw lacquer was used as an adhesive, a dark brown line was left at each crack.

Like ugly scars, they covered the once pristine white cup.

Especially the broken "mouth" part, with its dark ring, looks like a patched-up broken bowl.

The comments section, which was just moments before captivated by Lin Mo's superb skills, suddenly shifted in direction.

That's it?

[It's been glued back together, but is it even presentable? It's covered in black scars!]

[It's so ugly... If I used this in public, people would laugh at me!]

[Is this what they call being more beautiful than before? Lin Mo, do you have some kind of misunderstanding about "beauty"?]

[It's ruined, ruined. This antique is completely useless, now just trash.]

Jiang Ruoyun looked at the cup covered in scars, and the light in her eyes dimmed.

Although it's fixed, it's still... really ugly.

The original sense of refined elegance, as smooth as jade, has vanished, replaced by a cheap and broken feel.

"Lin Mo..."

Jiang Ruoyun bit her lip, looking at the cup with a touch of heartache. "Is this... considered repaired?"

She didn't want to discourage Lin Mo, after all, he had worked so hard for so long.

"Finished?"

Lin Mo took off his glasses and rubbed his slightly sore nose.

He looked at the "ugly monster" being ridiculed by the barrage of comments, but a meaningful smile appeared on his lips.

That smile carried a sense of confidence in control, and a hint of mockery of worldly views.

"Who told you that's the end of it?"

Lin Mo stood up, stretched his stiff neck, and made a crisp cracking sound.

"This is just the foundation."

"Like a woman concealing her blemishes before applying makeup."

He pointed to the black cracks, his eyes becoming somewhat fanatical:

"These black lines are not scars."

"But it is the river channel that will flow through the Golden River next."

"Don't rush, it hasn't been infused with a soul yet."

Done.

Lin Mo turned around and took the small mahogany box that Jiang Ruoyun had found for him from the shelf behind him.

"Clatter".

The box is opened.

Inside was a small bottle of golden powder, which shimmered with a dazzling luster in the sunlight.

That was gold powder of extremely high purity.

Followed by.

He then picked out a special drawing brush from the brush holder, one with extremely fine bristles made of only a few mouse whiskers.

The entire audience held their breath.

Even the comments that were just complaining stopped.

Everyone stared at Lin Mo's hands.

Gold dust?

Fine brush?

What is he going to do?

Are we really going to do what he said and...gild this pile of junk?!

Lin Mo took a deep breath and used the hand that had just finished piecing the fragments together, which remained as steady as a rock.

He gently picked up the extremely fine calligraphy brush.

Dip in lacquer.

Suspended wrist.

The pen tip was aimed at that ugliest black crack.