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Chapter 12 Who is willing to do it (Thanks to the 001 chief @Cheng_Da)_2

Translator: 549690339

Wooden arches were woven together using tenon-and-mortise joinery, connecting individual pieces of timber into a cohesive structure.

Practicality is the true essence of wisdom in life.

Most of the existing traditional wooden arch bridges are in their "twilight years."

From a modern perspective, they're nothing extraordinary and certainly not dazzling.

Many who walk over them might even complain, "What era are we living in that we're still keeping these old, rickety wooden bridges that can't even support vehicles?"

The voices of those people actually represent the vast majority.

As a result, the majority of those traditional wooden arch bridges have been replaced by modern bridges made of steel and concrete.

In the eyes of laymen, these wooden arch bridges are "decrepit with age."

Yet they are part of humanity's intangible cultural heritage, which even modern technology struggles to recreate.

To this day, the number of people who can fully master this heritage craftsmanship has dwindled to just a few.

The Muguang Bridge of Wan'an, with its multiple piers and spans, lies atop the stream like a languid dragon.

As the three-span, four-span, and five-span wooden arch bridges that once appeared in old photographs disappeared one by one,

the existence of Wan'an Bridge has become not only a bridge but a belief and living history.

Within the subcategory of traditional wooden arch bridges, Wan'an Bridge, with its five piers and six arches, holds the undisputed title of "existing" world's longest.

Alas, the term "existing" gained ironic quotation marks, after last night's fire that sent Nie Guangyi's grandfather into a furious heart attack.

...

"Guangyi, you really shocked me today," said Xuan Shi, insisting on driving himself.

His original intention was to let Nie Guangyi rest properly,

to rejuvenate before dealing with the aftermath.

But Nie Guangyi showed no intention of resting.

He did not close his eyes, nor did he speak.

His face was even devoid of expression.

Xuan Shi had seldom seen such a demeanor in Nie Guangyi during their decade-long friendship.

"Hmm?" Nie Guangyi did not refuse to communicate with Xuan Shi and asked, "What's so shocking?"

"Aren't you allergic to all things classical?" Xuan Shi elaborated, "That includes everything related to the ancient world and old ways, from poetry to daily necessities."

"What's so strange about that?" Nie Guangyi countered, "Haven't you been allergic to coffee for eight years?"

"My coffee allergy is because it brings back painful memories," Xuan Shi ventured, "Could it be that the formidable Young Master Guangyi also has a past he can't bear to look back on?"

"I don't."

Nie Guangyi clearly did not wish to delve into the topic, so Xuan Shi did not press further.

Silence fell between them.

The sudden quiet made the atmosphere inside the car somewhat oppressive.

Xuan Shi played Nie Guangyi's favorite song, "Ora."

This choice seemed to irritate Nie Guangyi, "Do you think I haven't had enough of the aurora? Are you playing this song just to annoy me?"

"Should I turn it off?" Xuan Shi was willing to compromise but couldn't hide his surprise, "Isn't this your favorite song by Angela Zhang?"

Nie Guangyi did not respond.

Xuan Shi continued his questioning, "You traveled all the way to Alaska to film the aurora when there are so many places in Europe to see it. Wasn't it because of this song?"

Xuan Shi was not particularly skilled in communication, and at this point, he was really grasping for topics.

If it were not for the fact that Nie Guangyi was in a bad mood, Xuan Shi would have kept silent and focused on driving.

After a long while, Nie Guangyi finally responded, "Do you think you know me well?"

"Huh?"

Xuan Shi was not quite sure how to answer.

To say he did not understand his friend of many years was impossible.

But more often than not, between brothers, it's best to know when to stop probing.

Nie Guangyi had never asked Xuan Shi why he was allergic to coffee.

So naturally, Xuan Shi never inquired why Nie Guangyi was allergic to classical things.

Young Master Guangyi might seem brash, but he certainly knew his boundaries.

The reason Xuan Shi and Nie Guangyi were such good friends was precisely that understanding.

"Do you know what my grandfather's last name is?" Nie Guangyi asked.

"Huh?" Xuan Shi wondered if he had misheard.

Nie Guangyi repeated, "I asked if you know my grandfather's last name."

"Nie?"

"No?"

"So, the man who had an accident today wasn't your biological grandfather?"

"He is my biological grandfather, but he doesn't have the surname Nie."

Xuan Shi had met Nie Guangyi's father, a professor at Tongji University's School of Architecture.

Professor Nie, undoubtedly, had the last name Nie.

If the biological grandfather didn't have the surname Nie, there was only one other possibility.

"So, like the younger sister of the girl from today, your father took your grandmother's surname?" Xuan Shi asked.