Chapter 10: The Shop Is Shabby, Not a Single Decent Stool

"Wait a moment..." The shop owner next door suddenly spoke up, unable to resist asking, "You’re offering a thousand if this TV gets fixed?" He knew perfectly well the young man wasn't up to anything good, but the prospect of a thousand yuan was tempting.

He'd been repairing appliances for decades—this was his strong suit. If he managed to fix it, that thousand would be as good as in his pocket.

Qin Hongfei saw the greed flicker in the owner’s eyes and smiled, making no move to stop him.

The young man lifted his head slightly, saying, "What, you want to try fixing it too? If you fix it, you get a thousand. But if you make it worse, how much will you pay me? Will you compensate me like her—ten times the amount?"

Ten thousand in compensation—the owner hesitated. But seeing Qin Hongfei’s calm confidence, he wondered if, like with the tape recorder, it was just a minor issue. With that thought, he decided not to commit right away. "I’d like to take a look first," he said.

Outside the shop, more and more people were gathering, which pleased Qin Hongfei greatly. She answered indifferently, "Go ahead."

The owner hurried over. TVs in those days were heavy, boxy machines. To repair one, you had to open the back. He did so, plugged it in, and tested it. There wasn’t the slightest response, and a clear smell of burning wafted out. There wasn’t even static on the screen. The television was clearly beyond saving, likely with components damaged by water. Fixing it would require replacing so many parts that you could buy a new set for less.

"This TV is too far gone. It can’t be fixed. You’d be better off getting a new one." He asserted his expertise as he spoke.

"What kind of talk is that..." The young man protested indignantly. "If your old-fashioned skills aren’t up to par, don’t act like you know everything. Didn’t the young shopkeeper just say it could be repaired? Why do you say it can't?"

There was a subtle threat and warning in his tone.

His professionalism questioned, the owner grew angry. "I’m a professional. If I say it can’t be fixed, then it can’t. Anyone who says otherwise is just trying to fool you—maybe even switching out your TV behind your back." His tone had become agitated.

He was certain this TV was beyond repair. Qin Hongfei couldn’t possibly fix it either.

Qin Hongfei had been watching all along, and on hearing this, was displeased. If they wanted to argue, fine, but why drag her reputation into it? "Uncle Zhang, just because you can’t fix it doesn’t mean I can’t."

The owner couldn’t stand being doubted and shouted, "Nonsense! The wiring’s been soaked, the display’s burnt, the circuitry is shot—unless you secretly swap it for a new one, how could you possibly fix it? Xiao Qin, even if you want to make money, you shouldn’t cheat people like this."

Qin Hongfei didn’t deny his words—what he said was, in fact, true. For most, this machine really was impossible to fix. But she wasn’t most people. In her previous life, repairing machines like this had been child’s play. "I can repair it right here, in front of everyone," she said, turning to the young man. "Shall I?"

Repairing it on the spot would rule out any possibility of secretly switching parts or swapping out the TV.

The young man, worried before that she might play tricks, instantly agreed on hearing her words. "Go ahead."

Qin Hongfei nodded, kicked a stool over for him to sit on. It was a little low stool, the kind elementary students used. The young man, well over 1.7 meters tall, hunched awkwardly on it and complained, "Don’t you have anything higher?"

Qin Hongfei replied, "Sorry, it’s a shabby shop. No better chairs for guests." Then she picked up her tools and sat down in front of the TV.

The owner hadn’t expected her to actually attempt the repair—she was even crazier than her mother. Completely mad. Still, the worse she made it, the more she’d owe, and the sooner the shop would fall into his hands.