forging
A tiny welding gun on the workbench belched a faint blue flame, its tiny tongues licking two electrolytically treated titanium washers, now gleaming with a strange hue. The air was filled with the subtle, distinct scent of heated metal. I breathed softly, concentrating on the steadying of my fingertips as I precisely joined the third copper sheet, its sinuous lines etched by the acid.
“Hiss——”
With a soft click, the welds merged perfectly. An incredibly tiny, yet delicately and intricately structured metal "structure" gradually took shape. It was cold and precise, yet, thanks to the unique treatment of the material and the subtle deviations of the hand-welding, it exuded a rhythmic, almost lifelike feeling.
This kind of microscopic transformation and reconstruction of industrial standard components requires immense patience and absolute focus, and for me, it’s a new kind of meditation. External noises—the subtle ripples of the art world, the trivialities of foundations, even the hustle and bustle of the city itself—are blocked out by this extreme focus.
That was until the phone beside him began to vibrate continuously and rapidly, unlike any other message. It was a video call request from Chen Hui.
At this hour? It should be early morning in Switzerland. I frowned slightly, put down the welding torch, removed my goggles, and connected the phone.
The screen lit up, but instead of showing Chen Hui's calm face, it showed a shaky, blurry shot of what seemed to be a hospital corridor, its lights cold and white. My heart sank.
The camera stabilized a bit, focusing on Chen Hui. She sat leaning back on the hospital bed, her face almost transparently pale, her lips chapped, and her hair, usually meticulously tied up, now plastered to her forehead. But her eyes remained clear and sharp, even carrying a calmness bordering on hyperactivity.
"Chenzhi." Her voice was weaker than usual, but unusually clear. "Listen, time is running out. I'll make it short."
My throat tightened. "What happened to you? Which hospital are you in?"
"It's not important. It's a minor issue, manageable." She spoke quickly, ignoring my question. "I was sorting through the data last night and discovered an unusual correlation. Li Wei, on her last project before leaving, was deeply involved in the asset restructuring assessment for an overseas subsidiary of Zhou Yu's company. She handled some extremely core, non-public financial models and data forecasts."
My brain couldn't process this information for a moment. "...So?"
"So," Chen Hui's eyes were as sharp as a scalpel, "she was likely able to use data models to deduce, earlier and more clearly than anyone else, the enormous risks Zhou Yu's company was facing at the time and... the limits of stress he could personally endure. She even included the possibility that, in the worst-case scenario, his physical condition might not be able to sustain it."
I felt like I was frozen in an instant, my blood curdling. My fingers gripping the phone were icy cold.
"She knows everything..." Chen Hui's voice was filled with a cold, trembling realization of the truth. "She didn't collect your fragments afterward. She calmly...assessed him beforehand, just like analyzing the risks of an investment target. She might even...predicted his fate."
There was a slight noise on the other end of the line, a nurse's voice. Chen Hui spoke quickly to the camera, his tone unquestionable, in German, then turned back to me.
"Her subsequent morbid 'attention' and 'collection' of you..." Chen Hui's breathing became slightly rapid. "Now there is a more chilling interpretation. It might not be nostalgia, nor a secret love, but... a kind of... confirmatory observation of the 'results' after deducing based on cold data. Or worse, a... distorted extension of the 'result' she 'predicted'..."
My stomach churned, and a strong feeling of nausea shot up my throat. So, behind those seemingly affectionate inquiries, those trivial fragments of memory, could there be a kind of... data-driven, condescending, even perversely controlling, prying? Like someone who'd read the script beforehand, she coldly observed how the actors reached their predetermined conclusion, even attempting to collect their personal belongings as souvenirs?
"Evidence..." I heard my voice become as dry as sandpaper. "Is there any evidence?"
"Indirect. Highly relevant. The logical chain is complete. But there's no direct evidence of her subjective intention." Chen Hui spoke rapidly. "I've already shared these findings with my lawyer and Assistant Lin. They'll handle the follow-up. I'm telling you this so you can fully understand what you're facing. I want to completely sever any lingering, unnecessary doubts or...cheap guilt."
She coughed violently, and the camera shook. A nurse appeared in the frame, seemingly trying to let her rest.
Chen Hui raised his hand to stop the nurse, his eyes fixed on the camera, an abnormal blush spreading across his pale face. "Listen, Chen Zhi. This world is made up of data and probability. But some people, some things, can never, and should never, be included in calculations."
Her voice trembled slightly due to weakness and excitement, but it carried an unprecedented, almost brutal power:
"Your paintings, your foundation, and the way you are now... are the greatest fucking 'irrational investment'! The loudest slap in the face of all the bullshit data models!"
"So, keep drawing! Keep smashing! Don't look back!"
The nurse finally took her phone by force and the screen went black.
The video call ends.
I froze in place, my body icy cold. Chen Hui's words, like an ice pick, pierced through all the confusion I'd harbored about Li Wei's behavior, revealing a truth so dark and thick it was suffocating.
It turns out that it wasn't a lingering obsession from youth, nor was it clumsy concern, nor even simple psychological paranoia.
That might be a kind of... based on an absolutely rational, cold-blooded prior assessment and a distorted, almost pathological observational verification afterwards.
I rushed to the bathroom and began to retch violently. Nothing came out, only a cold, nauseous feeling of fear and retching burning my esophagus.
It was a long time before I splashed cold water on my face, raised my head, and looked at my pale and panic-stricken face in the mirror.
Suddenly, Chen Hui's last few roars of encouragement, laced with foul language, penetrated the layer of cold fear and shone in like a strong light.
Yes.
Li Wei deduced Zhou Yu in her cold data model.
Zhou Yu calculated my future based on his cold business logic.
And everything I do now—
I looked at the tiny and delicate metal structure on the workbench, at the book "Quenching" leaning against the wall, and thought of the crazy and sincere young people supported by the Foundation—
Indeed, it is the greatest fucking "irrationality"!
It is the most satisfying betrayal of all calculations and deductions!
A huge wave of emotions, a mixture of anger, sadness, and a strange sense of liberation, exploded in my chest.
I turned abruptly and returned to my workbench.
His eyes fell on the delicate and cold microstructure that had just been welded.
Then I picked up my biggest construction hammer.
Without the slightest hesitation.
Smashed it down hard!
“Bang—!”
A sharp sound of metal breaking rang out!
The incredibly delicate structure that had taken days of painstaking effort to complete was instantly crushed and broken, turning into a pile of twisted, flickering debris.
An extreme feeling of catharsis rushed to the top of my head.
I gasped and looked at the pile of waste.
Then, I picked up the welding gun.
This time, I am not pursuing sophistication or structure.
I welded those broken and twisted parts back together in the crudest and most direct way! The welds are rough and exposed, the shapes are wild and unruly, full of the primal power of destruction and reconstruction!
I'm not creating.
I'm fighting!
Fight against all calculations, all deductions, all cold rationality, all twisted prying eyes hidden under the mask of care!
Until exhausted.
Until that pile of slag was forged by me into a brand new, ugly, hideous, yet full of savage vitality——
totem.
I put it next to Quenching.
It deserves it.
The phone screen lit up again. It was a message from Chen Hui, his tone returning to his usual calm:
"Dealt with. Don't reply. Everything is under control. Focus on your business."
I looked at the message and then at the new, wild totem.
I know,
A new, harder stage,
here we go.
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