The Plating Master's Bride

A Yin placed the jewelry box beside Tank No. 3. "I don't have to fight for it," she said. "As long as you help me do one last electroplating. Plate me onto this box. I don't want to be a shadow in a tank anymore." Andy looked at her. "You know what that means. Once you're plated on, you'll never be able to leave this box." "I know," A Yin said. "But at least I'll have a shape that someone can hold in their hand." Lily crouched down and opened the box. On the inside of the lid, a line of tiny characters was engraved: Xiu, wait for me to come back. She looked up at A Yin. "Are you sure?" A Yin did not answer. She walked into Tank No. 3, her silver-gray trench coat soaking in the tank solution like a layer of metal that was melting. Andy pushed the rectifier his father had left behind over to the tank and connected the electrodes. Lily stood beside him, reached her hand into the tank solution, and closed her eyes. "Start with a lower current," she said. "She's afraid of pain." Andy turned the current to the lowest setting. A fine layer of silver light floated up on the surface of the tank solution and slowly gathered toward A Yin. A Yin's body began to turn transparent, her edges like ink washed apart by water. "A little more," her voice came out from the water. "I want to remember this feeling." The current rose. The workshop lights flickered once, and Tank No. 3 gave off a low resonance. Andy saw Lily's hand trembling, yet she never let go. Finally, A Yin raised her head and looked at Lily. "Thank you," she said. "So this is how warm it feels to be remembered." The silver light flared brightly, then slowly dimmed. The tank solution returned to calm, and on the lid of the jewelry box there was now an even, soft layer of silver. In the indentation at the center of the lid floated the shadow of a tiny ring. Lily collapsed into Andy's arms. Her heartbeat was fast and loud, like a rectifier that had just started up.