I Just Made a Few Changes, So Stop Kneeling

Lin Ye, a master craftsman who had spent a thousand years engraving patterns, woke up one day as a poor first-year student at Jiangcheng No. 3 High School. He had no System, no golden finger, only a thousand years of craftsmanship carved into his bones and a dark-red fragment of unknown origin lodged near his heart. He used scrapped parts to fix Auntie Li's broken electric scooter, increasing its range tenfold. He hammered a paper knife out of scrap copper, giving it a hardness beyond the theoretical limits of steel. He said nothing throughout his livestream, while five million people watched him sharpen a blade. The whole internet called him the "Silent Craftsman." A professor at a materials lab said his work "should not exist." Someone was secretly writing reports. Someone was following him through the flea market. Someone was pointing a scanner at his schoolbag outside the school gate. And there was a business card from Shanghai with just one sentence on the back: "Until we meet again." Lin Ye only wanted to quietly rummage through junk. But this world had no intention of leaving him alone.