My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 36

Cheng Ran was already in the lobby. He was wearing a dark coat, his hair was still a little messy, and he was holding two cups of coffee, one of which he handed to her. “A Zuo is waiting in the car. Sun Yuan just called and said that Fang Lin and the others have been discharged from the hospital. He will handle the remaining procedures, so we don’t need to go.”

Lin Jiqiu took the coffee and took a sip. “Where’s Zhou Wan?”

“She’s been discharged from the hospital. Her parents took her back to their hometown. Before they left, they asked Sun Yuan to pass on their thanks.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded without saying anything. She carried her coffee cup to the door and opened the glass door. A sea breeze rushed in, carrying a salty, fishy smell, less intense than a few days ago, but still quite noticeable. She took a deep breath, then turned to look at Cheng Ran. “Let’s go.”

The two left the hotel and got into the car. A-Zuo started the car and drove out of the town. Lin Jiqiu leaned back in her seat, looking out the window. The shops along the street receded one by one—a flower shop, a convenience store, a coffee shop, and that little hardware store. The proprietress wasn’t at the door; perhaps it hadn’t opened yet. The car turned onto the highway, and the sea came into view, a deep blue, stretching to the horizon. The distant lighthouse gleamed white in the sunlight, like a quiet road sign.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“That platform, the cliff top, the footprints. Do you think they’ll use that path again?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “Probably not in the short term. We rescued the people, and they know someone has infiltrated the facility, so they will probably move to a different location. But the passage itself won’t be abandoned—it’s too well hidden, and the entrance and exit are submerged at high tide, making it completely invisible from the sea.”

“Maybe we’ll need it in the future.”

“Maybe.”

The car entered the highway and picked up speed. The scenery outside the window changed from the sea to mountains, then to fields. Lin Jiqiu closed her eyes, her mind filled with images from the past few days—the underwater door, the pillar in the monitoring room, the shaft, the iron gate, the corridor, the numbered rooms, the passageway that required bending over to pass through, and the footprints on the platform. She remembered them all.

The car drove for over four hours, exited the highway, and turned onto a familiar street. The florist was watering the flowers, and the café staff were moving tables and chairs—everything was just as it had been when they left. The sign of Wanxiang Architectural Firm gleamed in the sunlight. Ayou was standing at the entrance wiping the windows when he saw the car stop, and the rag in his hand fell to the ground.

“Boss! You’re back!”

Lin Jiqiu got out of the car, and Ayou rushed over, looking her up and down several times. “You’ve lost weight. The food by the sea isn’t good. Azuo said you only eat one meal a day. I knew it—”

“Ah You,” Lin Jiqiu interrupted him, “I’m hungry.”

Ah You paused for a moment, then smiled, turned around and ran to the kitchen. “Noodles! Wait here! Coming soon!”

Lin Jiqiu changed her shoes and walked into the office. A-Zuo followed behind, placing her backpack on the counter. A-Hua jumped down from the windowsill, rubbed against Lin Jiqiu’s feet, then hopped onto the sofa and curled up next to her. A-Mo peeked out from the corner and squatted at her feet, while A-Ju peeked out from the kitchen, then retreated back inside.

“You all missed me?” Lin Jiqiu reached out and scratched Ahua’s chin. Ahua made a gurgling sound and squinted her eyes.

Cheng Ran walked to the sofa and sat down, placing the tablet on the coffee table. “At Mingyuan Consulting, Ahua saw Wang Jianguo enter their office last night. I checked the building’s security footage, and this isn’t Wang Jianguo’s first time there. In the past three months, he’s been there at least six times. That’s about once every two weeks on average, very regularly.”

“Reporting on work?”

“Maybe. They might be taking money.” Cheng Ran pulled up a photo. “Mingyuan Consulting is registered in that building, on the fifteenth floor. But their actual office space is small, only half a floor. The other half is occupied by another company—”

“What company?”

“It’s a security company. The registered name is ‘AnDun,’ and the legal representative is a person named ‘Liu Tie.’ Liu Tie’s background has been investigated—he’s a retired soldier who served in the military for eight years and ran a security company after leaving the military. His company’s services include ‘personnel protection,’ ‘risk assessment,’ and ‘special security.'”

Lin Jiqiu tapped his fingers lightly twice on his knee. “The one with the Rusty Bones?”

“Unsure. But the style is very similar.”

Ayou came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of noodles and placed it on the coffee table. The noodles were of uniform thickness, the broth was clear, and the scallions were neatly sprinkled on top, with a poached egg resting on it. Lin Jiqiu picked up her chopsticks and took a bite; it was truly delicious. Ayou squatted beside her, watching her with bright, sparkling eyes, like a student waiting for exam results.

“It’s delicious,” Lin Jiqiu said.

Ah You smiled, stood up, turned around and went back to the kitchen, his steps much lighter.

Lin Jiqiu ate half a bowl of noodles and pushed the bowl aside. Cheng Ran was still looking at his tablet. “Don’t alarm Wang Jianguo for now. He’s already been exposed. As long as we keep an eye on him, he’ll contact higher-ups sooner or later.”

“And you? Are you still going south to find Chen Weisong?”

Lin Jiqiu thought for a moment. “Wait a few days. Let’s get things sorted out at the firm first. And—” She glanced at Ayou and Azuo, “I want to take a break.”

Cheng Ran nodded.

In the afternoon, Lin Jiqiu took a stroll around the office. Counters, filing cabinets, bookshelves, coffee tables, sofas, windowsills. Ahua had moved to a different spot, perched on the counter, its tail swishing. Amo was on top of the bookshelf, its golden eyes half-open. Aju—Aju was in the kitchen; Ayou was cooking, and he was squatting beside the stove waiting for food. Everything was quiet, very ordinary. She walked to the window, looking across the street. The florist was pruning branches, and the café staff were wiping cups. The sun was shining brightly; the autumn sun wasn’t harsh, and it felt warm and comforting.

“Boss.” A-Zuo’s voice came from behind the counter.

“Um.”

“Is there anything else I need to investigate about your father’s affairs?”

Lin Jiqiu turned around and walked to the counter. A-Zuo’s fingers were on the keyboard, ready to type at any moment. “Check Chen Weisong’s current address and recent activity trajectory. The more detailed the better. Also, is there any publicly available information about the laboratory where my father worked?”

A-Zuo nodded and began typing on the keyboard.

Lin Jiqiu went upstairs. Passing the second floor, she saw that Cheng Ran’s studio door was open. She glanced inside—Cheng Ran was sitting at his workbench, with parts and tools spread out on it, seemingly adjusting something. She didn’t go in and continued upstairs.

Her room was exactly the same as when she left. The bed was neatly made, a few books were on the desk, and a potted plant on the windowsill—watered by A-You—was still alive. She walked to the window and drew back the curtains. The view outside was different from the seaside; there was no sea, no lighthouse, only streets and buildings across the street. But she felt at peace.

She lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her mind was filled with the events of the past few days—the underwater door, the pillar in the monitoring room, the shaft, the iron door, the corridor, the numbered rooms, Lin Xiao’s words, her father’s photo, the footprints on the platform, Wang Jianguo’s car, the Mingyuan Consulting office. All the clues were like a net, with more and more nodes, but the core remained unclear. She closed her eyes, trying to piece things together. The underwater facility was used by the Mirror Society to imprison people. The Mirror Society’s funding came from Mirror Technology. Mirror Technology’s upstream supplier was the Stargazers. The Stargazers collaborated with Rust Bones. Her father participated in a deep-sea exploration project, coming into contact with technology that shouldn’t exist in this world. Her own abilities were a continuation of that project. All the threads pointed in the same direction—where did the things in that underwater facility, the technology behind that impenetrable iron door, come from?

She doesn’t know. But she will investigate.

The ball on his wrist vibrated slightly. “Chengran.” “Hmm.” “Are you still adjusting that new communicator?” “Almost there. Just a little more.” “We’ll adjust it tomorrow. I’m resting today.” “You’re resting too?” “I’m lying down.” “Lying down doesn’t count.”

Lin Jiqiu’s lips curved slightly. “Lying down is fine.” She turned over and pulled the blanket over herself.

In the evening, Ayou prepared dinner: sweet and sour pork ribs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a bowl of tomato and egg drop soup. Lin Jiqiu came downstairs, and Chengran was already sitting at the table. Azuo came out from behind the counter, and Ahua, Amo, and Aju were squatting in a row beside the table waiting for their food. Ayou brought out the last dish and placed it in the center of the table.

“Dinner’s ready!”

Lin Jiqiu picked up his chopsticks and took a piece of pork rib. Delicious. Cheng Ran picked up a piece and nodded. Ayou looked at the two of them, his eyes shining. “Brother Cheng, when will your new communicator be ready?” “Tomorrow.” “Tomorrow? Didn’t you say it would be soon?” “Soon means tomorrow.”

Lin Jiqiu glanced at Cheng Ran but didn’t expose him. Every time he said “soon,” it wasn’t the next day, but this time it might be.

After dinner, Ayou cleared the dishes, Azuo organized the files, Ahua jumped onto the sofa and curled up in a ball, Amo was nowhere to be seen, and Aju was still waiting for food at the kitchen door. Lin Jiqiu sat on the sofa, picked up a magazine from the coffee table, flipped through a few pages, and then put it down. Cheng Ran sat opposite, still looking at Mingyuan Consulting’s materials on his tablet.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“When you were in Rustbone, did you ever meet someone named Chen Weisong?”

Cheng Ran’s finger paused on the tablet. “No. The people of Rustbones don’t use real names. They all use code names. I only know a few people’s code names: Anvil, Remains, and some who are no longer here.”

“Is the anvil the guy with the scar on his face?”

“yes.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “Do you think Chen Weisong is still involved in that project?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “Maybe not. He’s retired, lives by the sea, and goes fishing occasionally. Sounds like someone who wants to distance himself from the past. But he signed a confidentiality agreement, and that project—whatever it is—is obviously something someone doesn’t want exposed.”

“So he may still be under surveillance.”

“possible.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. “Then I’ll go find him, but there might be risks.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. He might not even know someone is investigating that project.”

“But he knows who I am. Lin Yuanzhou’s daughter.”

Cheng Ran looked at her. “Are you afraid that he will refuse to see you after he finds out who you are?”

“I’m afraid. But I’m even more afraid that he’ll lie to me when he sees me.”

The two remained silent for a while.

Ah You came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands. “Boss, don’t push yourself too hard about your father’s matter. Some truths take time to uncover. The more anxious you are, the easier it is to fall into someone else’s trap.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. Ayou rarely said such things. He usually only cared about breakfast and dinner, whether the porridge was burnt, and whether the ribs were overcooked. But what he said made sense.

“I know.” Lin Jiqiu stood up. “I’m going to sleep. You all should go to bed early too.”

She went upstairs, entered her room, and closed the door. She changed into her pajamas, lay on the bed, and stared at the ceiling. The streetlights outside were on, casting blurry patches of light through the curtains onto the wall. The ball on her wrist vibrated gently, a slow, hypnotic rhythm. She closed her eyes, and her consciousness slowly sank away.