Director Zhou kept his word.
On the third day, he brought a few workers and followed Lin Jianguo to the forest station warehouse.
Lin Jianguo led the way, pointing out the places he had drawn—cracks in the electric meter box, exposed wires, aged insulation, and the sacks piled too close together. The workers followed behind, tools in hand, tapping here, inspecting there.
Standing at the warehouse door, Zhou held the stack of diagrams, comparing them carefully.
"This," Lin pointed to a corner of the wall, "the wires enter through here. You can't see it from outside, but inside, it's definitely aged."
One worker climbed up and pried open the wall panel, revealing the wires inside. As expected, they were blackened, the insulation cracked, and the debris crumbled at a touch.
Zhou's face changed.
"Replace this section," he said.
The worker responded and started working.
Lin stood beside him, watching with a strange feeling in his heart. Last time, those wires had been neglected until the fire broke out. This time, someone was actually replacing them.
It was different.
Over the next few days, Lin came to the forest station every day. When the workers were repairing the lines, he would squat nearby, watching and asking questions. Sometimes the workers got annoyed and chased him away; he'd leave for a while, then sneak back.
One day, while crouched behind the warehouse watching the workers replace the wires, he suddenly heard someone call him.
"Jianguo."
He turned around and saw his father standing not far off, holding a water bottle.
Lin Jianguo was momentarily stunned, then stood up and walked over.
Lin Dashuan handed him the water bottle. "Drink some water."
Lin took the bottle, tilted his head, and took a few sips. The water was warm and slightly sweet.
Lin Dashuan stood beside him, watching the workers work without saying a word.
After finishing the water, Lin returned the bottle.
His father took it, then suddenly reached out and patted his shoulder.
"Take it slow," he said. "The bricks are slippery."
Lin was taken aback, looked down at his feet. The ground was indeed slippery—after the rain a couple of days ago, the bricks had grown green moss.
He looked up into his father's face.
His face was dark from the sun, with wrinkles like carved lines, but his eyes were still bright. He stood there in his old cotton jacket, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing his lean arms.
Lin remembered the day in the snow, his father bending over, apologizing to him. He remembered his father stuffing the eggs back into his hand, saying, "Save these for your dad to nourish himself." He remembered the gentle but firm pat on his shoulder just now—warm, not heavy, but comforting.
He reached into his pocket and handed his father a small cloth bag.
Lin Dashuan took it, opened it, and froze.
Inside were a few fuses and several crumpled banknotes.
"Where did you get these?"
"Saved up," Lin said. "To buy fuses."
His father looked at the small cloth bag, then at his son. He opened his mouth but said nothing.
Lin stood there, waiting for him to speak.
After a while, Lin's father suddenly smiled.
He put the bag in his pocket and reached out again, patting his son's shoulder—this time a bit heavier, making Lin sway slightly.
"You've grown up," he said. "You're starting to care."
He didn't say anything else. He turned around, picked up the water bottle, and walked away.
Lin stood there, watching his father's figure disappear around the corner of the warehouse.
A cool breeze from the mountains blew over, carrying the scent of dry grass. He took a deep breath, then turned and ran back behind the warehouse.
The workers were still replacing the wires. He squatted nearby, watching and asking questions again—this time, the workers didn't chase him away, and occasionally they even answered him a few words.
The sun slowly moved westward, casting longer shadows.
That night, Lin Jianguo lay on the kang (raised bed), staring at the dark roof, a faint smile still on his lips.
It was different.
This time, truly different.
He closed his eyes and finally fell into a good sleep.