Cracks in the ice lock

As autumn deepened, only the ginkgo trees outside the window remained, their gnarled branches pointing straight to the gray-blue sky. Lin Wanxing received a daunting task—to organize a batch of photocopied local gazetteers from the late Qing Dynasty and early Republican era for an interdisciplinary research project. These materials were ancient, the scan quality varied greatly, many pages were covered with stains, ink smudges, and even signs of insect damage, making the handwriting difficult to decipher.

For several days in a row, she buried herself in old papers, struggling with blurry images and incomplete paragraphs, making slow progress, her brow often furrowing unconsciously. After work that day, she was still fretting over several pages of particularly difficult-to-read documents on the computer screen, her fingers unconsciously rubbing her throbbing temples.

When Jiang Chen came to deliver the reference books he had helped borrow from the library, this was the scene he saw. Lin Wanxing sat behind a desk surrounded by books and printed documents, the light from the desk lamp outlining her slightly tired and focused profile, her eyes fixed on the screen with obvious distress.

He didn't ask any further questions. He put down his book, his gaze lingering for a moment on the blurry document on her screen, before calmly asking, "Is it a problem with the image clarity?"

Lin Wanxing snapped out of her reverie and pointed to the screen with a hint of helplessness: "Yes, these few pages are particularly bad. A lot of key information is hard to see, which seriously affects the interpretation."

Jiang Chen nodded without saying anything, only saying, "Please wait a moment."

He turned and walked out of the office, returning a few minutes later with an ordinary black USB drive in his hand. He gently placed the USB drive beside Lin Wanxing.

"Here's a simple image processing script, and a clear version of these few pages of literature that I've processed." His tone remained calm, as if he were talking about something trivial. "The script is a portable version; you can run it directly. You can drag the file you need to process into it, and it will automatically enhance contrast, reduce noise, and try to restore stroke continuity. See if the effect is usable."

Lin Wanxing picked up the small USB drive in surprise and looked up at him: "You... you can do this?"

"I had taught myself some image processing and programming before, which comes in handy," he said casually, without taking credit or showing off. "If there are any other technical issues, perhaps I can give it a try."

Lin Wanxing inserted the USB drive into the computer, ran the program he had instructed, and then dragged in the few most blurry pages of the document. The progress bar quickly finished, and the reopened image file made her almost unable to believe her eyes—the originally blurred and smudged text had become clearly legible, and the stains and background noise had been largely eliminated. Although it could not be completely restored, the threshold for reading and understanding had been greatly lowered.

A sense of sudden enlightenment washed over her, instantly soothing the anxiety and frustration of the past few days with this unexpected solution. She looked at the now clear text on the screen, then at Jiang Chen standing quietly to the side, her heart filled with indescribable gratitude and a deeper… curiosity about his abilities.

"Thank you so much, Jiang Chen." Her voice was filled with heartfelt gratitude. "You've solved a huge problem for me."

"I'm glad I can help." He nodded slightly. "Within the scope of the agreement."

That same phrase again. But this time, Lin Wanxing felt a different kind of ripple in her heart. She no longer saw it merely as a cold, impersonal agreement to be executed, but genuinely felt the value and support he provided behind this "agreement," far exceeding her expectations.

To express her gratitude, or perhaps to confirm some vague impulse in her heart, Lin Wanxing made a decision that even surprised herself—inviting Jiang Chen to her home for dinner the following evening.

"Tomorrow night... if you're free, come over for a casual dinner." She tried to make her tone sound natural. "It's... a way to thank you for your help this time."

Jiang Chen was clearly a little surprised. He paused for a moment before nodding in agreement, "Okay. Thank you, Teacher Lin."

The following evening, Lin Wanxing finished work early and made a special trip to the supermarket. She rarely cooked for herself, especially when entertaining guests. Standing in front of the dazzling array of ingredients, she felt somewhat lost, and ultimately, relying on her vague memory and intuition, she bought some vegetables and meats that seemed easy to prepare.

Back in her apartment, as she tied on her apron, she truly realized how hasty her decision had been. The kitchen quickly became a mess. Vegetables piled in the sink, irregularly sized pieces of meat lay on the cutting board, suspicious white smoke billowed from the pot on the stove, and a faint smell of burning filled the air. She frantically followed the recipe on her phone, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. The more she tried to do it right, the more mistakes she made.

When the doorbell rang, Lin Wanxing was at a loss, staring at the overcooked soup that was almost dried up in the pot. She hurriedly wiped her hands and ran to open the door, her face still flushed and a little disheveled from the kitchen battle.

Jiang Chen stood outside the door, holding a small paper bag filled with fresh fruit. He noticed her apron, her slightly disheveled hair, and the subtle aroma wafting from the kitchen. A knowing glint flashed in his eyes, but he asked nothing. He simply handed her the fruit, saying, "I saw it on the way here; it's very fresh."

"Please come in." Lin Wanxing stepped aside somewhat awkwardly. "I... am still preparing, it may take a little more time."

Jiang Chen walked into the living room, his gaze naturally sweeping over the slightly messy kitchen. "Need any help?" he asked, his tone so casual it was as if it were just a casual remark.

"No need, no need, it'll be ready soon." Lin Wanxing subconsciously refused and turned to rush back into the kitchen. However, a few minutes later, accompanied by a soft exclamation and the sound of porcelain clattering, Jiang Chen still went over.

He saw Lin Wanxing frowning at an overturned spice jar and spilled salt, while the oil pan on another burner was already smoking.

“Teacher Lin,” he said, his voice steady, “let me do it.”

This time, Lin Wanxing didn't insist. Looking at the increasingly chaotic situation before her, a deep sense of powerlessness welled up inside her. She silently stepped aside and took off her apron.

Jiang Chen didn't speak, but simply took the apron and tied it on naturally. He first deftly turned off the stove to prevent the oil from catching fire, then began to tidy the counter. His movements were methodical: washing, chopping, reheating the pan, adding oil, adding ingredients... every step was smooth and precise, as if he had rehearsed it countless times. The unsettling smell of burning food in the kitchen was quickly replaced by the aroma of ingredients bursting out as they were added to the pan.

Lin Wanxing stood at the kitchen doorway, watching the tall, composed figure busily working at the stove, watching him skillfully flip the spatula and control the heat. A mix of emotions welled up inside her. There was shame, gratitude, and a… indescribable feeling of being moved. He wasn't just fixing things or solving technical problems; he could so naturally take over the messes she'd made in her life.

Within half an hour, three dishes and a soup were served. The food looked appealing and smelled delicious, a stark contrast to the "disaster scene" Lin Wanxing had created earlier.

The two sat facing each other and began their meal quietly. The atmosphere was somewhat subtle, but not awkward.

"It's delicious," Lin Wanxing said sincerely after taking a bite. The taste was unexpectedly good, the kind of comforting and warm taste that belongs to "home".

"I'm glad it suits your taste," Jiang Chen replied, his tone remaining calm.

Just then, Lin Wanxing's phone rang; it was a video call request from Su Xiao. She hesitated for a moment, but answered anyway.

"Wanxing! What are you doing? I want to tell you..." Su Xiao's energetic voice came through the receiver, and then she noticed that Lin Wanxing's surroundings didn't seem to be in an office; there was a dining table and dishes in the background. "Huh? You're eating? You made so many dishes by yourself?"

Before Lin Wanxing could answer, the video camera inadvertently swept across and captured the profile of Jiang Chen sitting opposite her.

"Wow!" Su Xiao's voice instantly rose eight octaves, filled with the excitement of discovering a new continent. "Jiang Chen?! You guys... are you having dinner at home?! Wow, Wanxing, things are progressing so fast! This 'thousand-yuan boyfriend' is providing such excellent service! He even paid for dinner?"

Lin Wanxing's face flushed instantly, and she hurriedly explained, "It's not what you think! He just... just came to help me fix something, and by the way..."

"I understand, I understand!" Su Xiao smiled mischievously. "You're fixing things at the dinner table? This after-sales service is pretty good! I won't bother you while you're 'fixing things,' bye!" After saying that, she hung up the phone quickly without waiting for Lin Wanxing to explain.

Lin Wanxing put down her phone, her cheeks still burning, and she didn't even dare to look Jiang Chen in the eye. "I'm sorry, Su Xiao... she's always so outspoken."

"It's alright." Jiang Chen's voice remained calm, seemingly unaffected by Su Xiao's teasing. He even naturally pushed a plate of food that Lin Wanxing had taken a few extra bites of closer to her.

This small gesture stirred Lin Wanxing's heart. Looking at his calm profile, she suddenly felt that the icy barrier between her and the world had indeed been pried open, creating a deeper crack, on this ordinary, everyday night. Dependence was growing, trust was accumulating, and a warm and complex emotion, transcending any agreement, was quietly spreading.