March 31, 2013.
Ever since seeing the sound system at Chu Ling's place, Lin Mo couldn't resist the urge to buy one for himself.
So he headed to Tao Street on Zhongshan Sixth Road.
In the 1990s, Tao Street was a paradise for men—not because of salons or massage parlors, but because it was home to several electronics markets.
Back in the 1980s, it was the largest vinyl record market. At that time, only the wealthy could afford to dabble in vinyl.
By the 1990s, CD players, pagers, and brick-sized mobile phones began appearing in Tao Street.
Later, it became a hub for all kinds of secondhand electronics—phones, lamps, gaming consoles, you name it.
By 2013, however, the street had entered a decline, especially with the rise of e-commerce. The only shops left were those run by owners who no longer paid rent.
They’d lounge in recliners, listening to tunes on their finely tuned sound systems, tapping along to the beat.
These days, the street was mostly frequented by local uncles. A young face like Lin Mo’s was a rare sight.
He stopped at an audio equipment shop.
Music drifted out from inside.
"Who is it, knocking at my window? Who is it, strumming the strings..."
Lin Mo knocked on the door, but the shop was empty.
An elderly man in his late sixties, lounging on a recliner under a tree across the street, suddenly spoke up.
"Hey, young man, who’re you looking for?"
Lin Mo hadn’t expected the old man to be the owner. He’d assumed he was just a neighbor killing time.
He turned to the man.
"Are you the owner?"
The old man nodded. "I’ve got records, vinyl, films—but not the kind you youngsters watch."
Lin Mo quickly shook his head, then glanced at the tube amplifier on the shop floor.
"Actually, I’m here to buy your sound system."
The old man frowned.
"Young man, do you even know what a sound system is?"
Lin Mo didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes swept over the shop before settling on the tube amp.
The copper terminals gleamed with age, and the screw holes on the chassis showed signs of frequent disassembly—clearly, it had been tweaked often.
Lin Mo pointed at it. "That’s a KT88 push-pull amp, right? Hand-wired, judging by the layout. Must have a rich, natural sound."
The old man’s eyes narrowed as he gave Lin Mo a once-over, surprise flickering in his gaze.
He got up from the recliner, walked into the shop, and placed a CD into the player.
Music filled the air again—this time, pure instrumental, the low hum of a saxophone accompanied by soft piano chords.
The old man said nothing, just watched Lin Mo’s expression.
Lin Mo closed his eyes, listening intently.
He didn’t critique the music itself but focused on the nuances of the sound.
After a moment, he spoke.
"The system handles the saxophone’s harmonics well, but the highs are a bit harsh. Maybe the capacitors aren’t broken in yet, or the cables could use better pairing."
The old man was stunned. Then he chuckled. "You sure some old-timer didn’t send you here to recite a script?"
He’d assumed Lin Mo was just a beginner who’d recognized the amp—but hearing the unbroken-in capacitors? That was something else.
With an approving grin, the old man clapped Lin Mo’s shoulder.
"Kid, your ears are sharper than mine. You’re the real deal. If you’re an expert, go ahead and browse." His tone turned sly.
Lin Mo smiled. "I’m not just window-shopping. I want a proper setup. Got any recommendations?"
The old man’s demeanor shifted, his gaze turning serious.
"What’re you looking for? What kind of music? I’ve got everything from cheap secondhand speakers to high-end gear worth tens of thousands. But you know—value’s one thing; skill’s another."
Lin Mo already had a decent sound system at home, tuned by his father.
But he wanted one for his rented place too—after all, he was staying there long-term.
After a pause, he laid out his requirements.
Volume wasn’t the priority; purity of sound was.
The old man knew right away—this kid wouldn’t be fooled.
After decades in the business, he’d seen all kinds of customers.
Some would point at the biggest speaker and ask, "Does this get loud?"
Others would spout specs like they knew it all, when they barely understood half of it.
But Lin Mo’s request stood out.
It wasn’t about raw power—it was about the essence of sound.
Loudness was easy—just get a big speaker. But clarity at low volumes? That demanded precision in equalizers, compressors, tube amps, and cables.
Definitely a high-end customer.
And, more importantly, someone he could actually talk to.
At his age, money wasn’t the main concern.
He could drop dead any day—what he really wanted was someone to share his passion with.
"Purity, huh? That’s tricky. What genre? Classical, jazz, or pop? Most youngsters go for pop."
Lin Mo thought for a moment. "A bit of everything, but if I had to pick—instrumentals and vocals. So layering and detail matter."
The old man nodded slowly.
"Instrumentals and vocals? That means higher demands on mid-to-high frequencies. Equalizers, compressors, tube amps, cables—it all adds up. And it’s expensive."
Lin Mo gave a faint smile. "Budget isn’t an issue. As long as it’s worth it. Besides, this is the only place to find the good stuff."
The old man’s expression softened.
A customer who truly appreciated sound was rare.
"Wait here. I’ve got a few setups in mind, but I’ll need to get them from some old buddies. Guaranteed to satisfy."
Business in audio shops like his was dwindling.
Customers were either clueless or experts.
The worst? The know-it-alls who actually knew nothing.
But this kid? Definitely not one of them.
With that, the old man walked out.
That was Tao Street’s charm—if he didn’t have what you wanted, he’d get it from someone who did.
Of course, the price wouldn’t be cheap—middlemen took their cut.
But it saved the hassle of hunting everything down yourself.
And Lin Mo wasn’t strapped for cash these days.
Before long, the old man returned—with another old man in tow.
No middleman after all. The owner was honest.
Maybe because the industry was fading, these audio enthusiasts just wanted someone to talk shop with.

nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...

Heart] Chen Yi traversed the cultivation world for eight hundred years, charging his way to the Tribulation Transcendence stage. Just as he was outwitting his 81st Heavenly Tribulation to ascend to immortality, he was suddenly pulled into a chat group called the "Multiverse Transmigrators Support Group." To his surprise, the group was filled with nothing but fresh-faced newbies who had just transmigrated. [Help! I transmigrated into a disgraced concubine in the cold palace, and the tyrant emperor is about to execute me!] [I ended up as a cannon-fodder villain, and the protagonist is still chasing me—WTF!] [I woke up as the protagonist’s father, but I’m about to be sacrificed in a ritual! What do I do? Urgent!!!] Chen Yi stared at the chaotic flood of desperate pleas in the group and fell into deep thought. "Seriously? You drag me into a newbie transmigrator chat group… only after I’m one step away from becoming an immortal?"

u Chenyuan transmigrated into a female-oriented novel about a real and fake heiress, becoming the CEO elder brother of both. Unfortunately, the entire Lu family—including himself, the CEO—were mere cannon fodder in the story. Determined to save himself, Lu Chenyuan took action. The spoiled, attention-seeking fake heiress? Thrown into the harsh realities of the working class to learn humility. The love-struck real heiress? Pushed toward academic excellence, so lofty goals would blind her to trivial romances. As for the betrayed, vengeful arranged marriage wife… the plot hadn’t even begun yet. There was still time—if he couldn’t handle her, he could at least avoid her. "CEO Lu, are you avoiding me?" Mo Qingli fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan. For the first time, the shrewd and calculating Lu Chenyuan felt a flicker of unease.

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