My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 43

“I don’t know. He was asleep when I went upstairs.”

What time did you go up?

“Around six o’clock.”

A-Zuo nodded and didn’t ask any further questions. A-You came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of congee—preserved egg and lean pork congee, the preserved egg and lean pork were perfectly cooked, and the scallions were neatly sprinkled on top. He placed the congee in front of Lin Jiqiu, then turned back to get another bowl. “Brother Cheng hasn’t come down yet? The congee will get cold.”

“Let him sleep.” Lin Jiqiu picked up a spoon and took a sip of the porridge. It was just the right temperature, neither too hot nor too cold. The aroma of the preserved egg and the savory flavor of the lean meat blended perfectly into the porridge, making it even tastier than the porridge she had made a few days ago. “Ayou, your cooking skills have improved.”

Ah You’s eyes lit up. “Really? I changed the type of rice. The last rice was too hard; this time I used Northeast rice.”

“Okay. We’ll use this kind from now on.”

Ah You smiled and turned back to the kitchen.

Lin Jiqiu was halfway through his meal when footsteps sounded on the stairs. Cheng Ran came down, wearing a wrinkled T-shirt, his hair even messier than yesterday, and the dark circles under his eyes were still there, but his eyes were much clearer than last night. He walked to the sofa and sat down, and Ayou brought out his bowl of porridge from the kitchen and placed it in front of him. He didn’t eat immediately, but first picked up the cup and took a sip of water.

“Is the key cracked?” Lin Jiqiu asked.

“It’s done.” Cheng Ran rubbed his eyes. “We unlocked the fourth layer around 3 a.m. last night. Now we can access the core database of the Stargazers.”

Lin Jiqiu’s finger paused on the rim of the bowl. “Can I check the data now?”

“Yes, we can. But it will take time.” Cheng Ran picked up a spoon and took a bite of porridge. “The database is huge, with millions of indexes alone. To find information relevant to us, we need to design search criteria.”

“Search criteria?”

“For example, the time range—1998 to 2000. Keywords—’deep-sea exploration,’ ‘Lin Yuanzhou,’ ‘Project Deep Sea.’ And personnel—telescope, K, your father, Lin Xiao, Chen Weisong.” Cheng Ran took another bite of porridge. “By combining these conditions, we should be able to filter out a batch of relevant records.”

How long will it take?

“It depends on the database response speed. If the server is in China, it might take a day or two. If it’s overseas, it might be slower.”

Lin Jiqiu put down her spoon and leaned back on the sofa. A few days—she had waited so many years, a few more days wouldn’t make a difference. “Cheng Ran.”

“Um.”

“Is your colleague, K, still with Stargazer?”

“Yes. His IP address was still on Stargazer’s intranet when he sent the email.”

“Will he be discovered?”

Cheng Ran’s finger paused on the rim of the bowl. “Possibly. But if he’s discovered, we’ll know too.”

How do you know?

“He will send the alert using a different email address. It was an agreement between us.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “Do you think he can be trusted?”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “He helped me because he owed me a favor. Once the favor is repaid, he won’t owe me anything anymore. But in the process, he has no reason to harm us. If he harms us, he won’t be able to escape the consequences himself.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded, picked up the bowl of porridge, and finished the last few mouthfuls. Ayou came out of the kitchen to collect the bowls and saw that Cheng Ran’s bowl was still half full. “Brother Cheng, is the porridge cold? Shall I heat it up for you?”

“No need. This is just right.”

Ah You didn’t insist, took Lin Jiqiu’s bowl, and turned back to the kitchen. Ah Zuo was typing on the keyboard behind the counter, while Ah Hua jumped down from the windowsill and rubbed against Cheng Ran’s feet. Cheng Ran looked down at her and reached out to scratch her chin. Ah Hua made a gurgling sound and squinted her eyes.

“Ahua has been very clingy to you lately,” Lin Jiqiu said.

“She’s always clinging to me.”

Were you clingy to me before?

“She’s clingy. But lately she’s been even clingier.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at Ahua. Ahua’s tail swayed gently beside Cheng Ran’s legs. “She might know something.”

“Know what?”

“It’s important to know what you’re doing.”

Cheng Ran did not respond.

In the afternoon, Cheng Ran locked himself back in his studio. Not the kind of seclusion where he stayed up all night, but the kind where he was focused on a goal—checking data. Lin Jiqiu went to check on him a few times; each time, he was staring at the screen, his brow slightly furrowed, his fingers tapping a few times on the keyboard, pausing, then tapping a few more times. She didn’t disturb him; she simply placed the tea that A You had brewed on the table and gently closed the door.

On the third day, Cheng Ran came downstairs. Not for dinner—he hadn’t eaten even though A You had brought the food up. He came down to find Lin Jiqiu. He walked to the sofa, sat down, and placed the tablet on the coffee table. “Found it.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. “What did you find?”

“The complete record of that project.” Cheng Ran pulled up a document. “It was initiated in 1998, funded by an offshore fund. The actual controller of the fund—”

Who is it?

Cheng Ran turned the screen towards her. “No name. Only a code name.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at the code name on the screen. “‘The Source’.”

“Yes. The ‘source’. All the funding, technology, and personnel come from this ‘source’. The Stargazers, the Mirror Society, and the Rusty Bones—they are all branches of the ‘source’.”

Lin Jiqiu’s fingers tightened slightly on her knee. “Where is my father? What is his position in this ‘source’?”

Cheng Ran flipped through the documents. “Your father wasn’t part of ‘The Source.’ He was recruited. ‘The Source’ needed scientists to research those technologies, and your father was one of the top marine geologists in the country at the time. They found him, gave him funding, a lab, and a team. He thought he was doing research that would benefit humanity. He didn’t know the true origin of those technologies.”

What is the real source?

Cheng Ran fell silent. “It’s not mentioned in the document. It only says ‘non-human origin’.”

Lin Jiqiu’s breath hitched for a moment. “Non-human?”

“It may not be a technology that humans currently possess. It may not even be from this era.”

The two fell silent.

Ah You peeked out from the kitchen, saw them sitting on the sofa with strange expressions, didn’t ask, and then shrank back inside. Ah Hua jumped down from the windowsill, walked to Lin Jiqiu’s feet, and rubbed against her, but she didn’t move. Ah Hua rubbed against her again.

“Cheng Ran, do you think my father knows?”

“Know what?”

“The origin of those technologies. Non-human.”

Cheng Ran thought for a moment. “Maybe they know. Maybe they don’t. There’s no record of it in the documents. But there is an email—written by your father to ‘the source’.”

“What did you write?”

Cheng Ran pulled up a screenshot of the email. Lin Jiqiu stared at the screen.

“Dear ‘Source’: I can no longer continue this research. These technologies should not exist in this world. I don’t know where you got them from, but please stop. Otherwise, I will release all the information publicly.”

The date was three days before her father’s accident.

Lin Jiqiu’s finger paused on the tablet. “He threatened to go public.”

“Um.”

“Then he got into trouble.”

“The document says ‘device malfunction.’ But the timing is too coincidental.”

Lin Jiqiu put the tablet back on the coffee table, leaned back on the sofa, and stared at the ceiling. “Non-human origins. He found out. So he threatened to reveal it. So they killed him.”

The room was eerily quiet.

A-Zuo stood up from behind the counter, walked to the kitchen doorway, and whispered something to A-You. A-You nodded and turned off the stove. A-Hua jumped onto the sofa and curled up next to Lin Jiqiu, making gurgling sounds, but much quieter than usual. A-Mo jumped down from the top of the bookshelf and silently squatted down at Lin Jiqiu’s feet. A-Ju peeked out from the kitchen, looked at the living room, and then retreated back inside.

“Lin Jiqiu.” Cheng Ran’s voice was very low.

“Um.”

“Your father’s death wasn’t an experimental accident. It was murder.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. “I know.”

What are you planning to do?

She remained silent for a long time. “Find the ‘source.’ Make it public.”

Cheng Ran’s fingers tightened slightly on his knee. “That might take a long time.”

“It can take as long as it takes.”

Ah You came out of the kitchen, carrying two cups of tea, and placed them on the coffee table. He looked at Lin Jiqiu, his lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply sat down next to her without leaving. Ah Zuo also came out from behind the counter and stood next to the sofa. Ah Hua rested her chin on Lin Jiqiu’s lap. Ah Mo squatted at her feet. Ah Ju also came out at some point and squatted next to the coffee table.

Lin Jiqiu looked at them. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll stay with you,” A-You said.

A slight smile curved her lips. “It’s not like I’m not coming back.”

“I’ll stay with you.”

She didn’t say anything more, picked up her teacup and took a sip. The tea was a little cold, but it smelled wonderful.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“Is there any other information in that database? About the ‘source’?”

“Yes. But it will take more time. The ‘source’ records are encrypted with multiple layers, making them harder to crack than ordinary data from stargazers. K’s permissions are insufficient; a higher level of authorization is needed.”

“Is it possible to get it?”

“Yes, but it requires contact with higher-level people.”

“who?”

“telescope.”

Lin Jiqiu’s fingers paused on the teacup. “Will he help us?”

“No. But he has what we need. The question is how to get it.”

Lin Jiqiu put down his teacup. “No rush. Let’s organize the information we’ve already gathered. ‘Non-human origin’—that’s too broad. We need to be more specific.”

Cheng Ran nodded, picked up his tablet, and stood up. “I’ll continue investigating.” He walked upstairs, stopping after a few steps. “Lin Jiqiu.”

“Um.”

“Your father’s matter—is not your fault.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at him. “I know.”

Cheng Ran didn’t say anything more, turned around and went upstairs.

Ah You watched her from the side. “Boss, are you alright?”

“fine.”

Your eyes are red.

Lin Jiqiu rubbed his eyes. “Something got in.”

Ayou didn’t expose her. He stood up, went to the kitchen, and got a damp towel, handing it to her. Lin Jiqiu took it and placed it on her eyes; it felt cool. Ahua made gurgling sounds on her legs, slower than usual, as if comforting her.

“Ah You.”

“Um.”

What should we have for dinner?

What would you like to eat?

“casual.”

“‘Whatever’ is the hardest thing to do.”

Lin Jiqiu’s lips curved slightly. “Then sweet and sour pork ribs.”

“Okay. Sweet and sour pork ribs.”