My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 62

“She fell asleep. Two hours ago.”

Lin Jiqiu didn’t expose him. He pulled out a chair, sat down, and began examining the photos one by one. Forty-seven faces—some young, some middle-aged, some wearing glasses, some with beards. They all looked like ordinary people, unremarkable in a crowd. But they were people from Beichen Court. Management and technical personnel from Fengyuan Agriculture—false identities, true faces.

“Can these photos be used for facial recognition?”

“Yes, it’s possible. But it requires access to the public security system’s database. I don’t have that permission.” Cheng Ran rubbed his eyes. “However, we can run an open-source algorithm and compare it with publicly available images online. Although the coverage is limited, it’s better than nothing.”

“Then run.”

“It’s already running. It’s 30% complete.” Cheng Ran pointed to the progress bar on the screen. “Comparing the results will take time. And publicly available image libraries may not have them.”

Lin Jiqiu continued flipping through the photos. When he reached the twenty-third one, his finger paused. He recognized the face. Not recently, but a long time ago. Where? He stared at the face for a few seconds, a scene flashing through his mind—his father’s study, a photograph on the desk, his father standing with someone he didn’t recognize, both wearing white lab coats. He was too young then to remember the person’s face clearly. But the face in this photograph overlapped with that blurry outline in his memory.

“Cheng Ran, this person.” Lin Jiqiu handed over the photo. “Could you check if he ever worked at any research institution?”

Cheng Ran took the photo, glanced at it, and scanned it into the computer. “You know him?”

“I don’t recognize him. But I might have seen him before. In my father’s study.”

Cheng Ran’s fingers paused on the keyboard. “Lin Yuanzhou’s study?”

“Yes. A long time ago. There’s a group photo, my father and him standing together.”

Cheng Ran was silent for a few seconds, then put the photo into a separate folder. “I will focus my investigation on this person.”

Lin Jiqiu continued flipping through the remaining photos. After looking at forty-seven, he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. These people included technicians on the production line, researchers in the laboratory, and office clerks. They were all cogs in the Beichen Court. The cogs didn’t know for whom they were turning, but the cogs were turning.

“Boss,” A-Zuo’s voice came from downstairs, “someone’s looking for you.”

Lin Jiqiu went downstairs. A young man in a dark jacket stood in the doorway, holding an envelope in his hand. His hat brim was pulled low, obscuring his face. Ayou stood behind the counter, holding a spatula—he was cooking.

“Are you Lin Jiqiu?” The young man looked up. His face was ordinary, without any distinguishing features.

“yes.”

The young man handed over the envelope. “Someone asked me to give this to you.”

Lin Jiqiu took the envelope. There was no signature, no salutation, and the seal was made of sealing wax, with a stamp pressed onto it—a seven-pointed star, concentric circles. The symbol of the Beichen Court. His fingers paused on the envelope, then he tore it open and pulled out the letter inside. The paper was thick, of good quality, with rough edges, as if handmade. The writing was handwritten, in fountain pen, neat but somewhat stiff, as if someone who didn’t write often was deliberately imitating a standard font.

“Mr. Lin Jiqiu—or, Ms. Lin. The form of address doesn’t matter. You’ve found Fengyuan Agriculture. You’ve found Liuhe Village. You’ve found those paper people. You’ve found some of our peripheral facilities. That’s good. It proves we didn’t misjudge you. But I must remind you—all of what you’ve found is information we’ve allowed you to access. Fengyuan Agriculture’s production lines can be relocated, Liuhe Village’s household registrations can be cancelled, and those paper people can be invalidated at any time. What you spent months finding, we can make disappear in a few days. Not because we’re afraid of you, but because there’s no longer any need to keep it.”

Your father also uncovered these things back then. He found Liuhe Village, the predecessor of Fengyuan Agriculture, and those fictitious figures. He thought he was very close to the truth. But he didn’t know that what he saw was only what we wanted him to see. He continued investigating, uncovering places he shouldn’t have. You know what happened next.

I’m not threatening you. I’m reminding you. Some roads, when you reach their end, don’t lead to the truth, but to a wall. You can choose to keep going, or you can choose to turn back. But whichever path you choose, we won’t come looking for you. Because you’re not worth our time. Your father wasn’t worth it either, but he didn’t turn back. So we have to deal with it.

I hope you will make a wise choice. —Polaris.

Lin Jiqiu placed the letter on the coffee table. Ayou came out of the kitchen, saw his expression, didn’t ask, and turned back inside. Cheng Ran came downstairs, picked up the letter, and began to read. His expression didn’t change, but his fingers tightened slightly at the edge of the letter.

“Polaris is writing to you personally.” Cheng Ran put down the letter.

“He’s been watching.”

“He knew about it from the moment you investigated Fengyuan Agriculture.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. The letter from Polaris was calm. There were no threats, no intimidation, just a reminder. Like an elder advising a younger person—”Some roads, when you reach their end, don’t lead to the truth, but to a wall.” He thought of his father. Had his father ever received a letter like this? Perhaps he had, perhaps not. But his father hadn’t turned back. Neither had he.

“Cheng Ran”.

“Um.”

“He said, ‘Your father also found these things back then.’ This means that my father found out the predecessor of Fengyuan Agriculture, found out about Liuhe Village, and found out about those people on paper. He found these things more than 20 years earlier than me.”

“Then he continued investigating and found places he shouldn’t have investigated.”

“Where shouldn’t be being investigated? Where is it?”

“It could be the true identity of the Seven Stars. It could be the source of the Originium. It could be Polaris himself.”

Lin Jiqiu picked up the letter and read it again. “It said, ‘We won’t come looking for you. Because you’re not worth our time.'”

“Provocation tactic.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s the truth.”

Ah You came out carrying a pot of tea and poured a cup for each of them. He glanced at the letter, asked no questions, and turned back to the kitchen.

“Chengran, do you believe what he said? ‘All the information you found was given to you by us.'”

“I believe it. The existence of Fengyuan Agriculture was never a secret. They knew we would find out. Maybe they deliberately let us find out.”

“Why?”

“To make us think we’re getting closer to the truth. In reality, we’re still far from it.”

Lin Jiqiu was silent for a few seconds. “Then let’s continue the investigation, regardless of whether they allow it or not.”

Cheng Ran looked at him. “Have you thought it through?”

“I’ve thought it through.”

In the afternoon, the facial recognition results came back. Three of the forty-seven faces were matched in a publicly available image database. One was a visiting professor at a university, who had published dozens of papers and whose research focused on materials science. Another was a former senior executive at a technology company that was acquired three years ago, and information about the acquiring company could not be found. The third was a board member of a foundation registered overseas, whose fund flows were unclear.

“Three people, three identities: professor, executive, and board member. They seem unrelated.”

“But they all serve the Beichen Court.” Cheng Ran pulled up the professor’s information. “This person works in a university lab, researching new semiconductor materials, which are directly related to chip production. The Beichen Court needs his technology, so it funds his research. He probably doesn’t know he’s working for the Beichen Court.”

“What about the senior executives?”

“He retired after the company was acquired. The acquiring party used a shell company, and the final buyer cannot be found. But he did not leave the industry after retirement and is still doing some consulting work. Beichen Zhiting may have been paying him consulting fees through the shell company.”

“director?”

“The foundation’s board members. The foundation’s funds have a complicated flow, with most going to overseas accounts. Some of these accounts overlap with the Stargazers’ funding chain.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at the photos of the three people: a professor, an executive, and a board member. Beichen Zhiting’s reach extended into academia, business, and philanthropy. They didn’t need to control everyone, only the key figures.

“Cheng Ran, continue to dig deeper into the information on these three people. See if there is any connection between them.”

“good.”

That night, Lin Jiqiu lay in bed, rereading Polaris’s letter. “You’re not worth our time and effort.” This sentence kept replaying in her mind. It wasn’t anger, nor resentment, but a calm, objective judgment. Like an adult watching a child throw a tantrum—”You’re not worth our time and effort”—it was more painful than any threat. Because she knew Polaris was telling the truth. She truly wasn’t worth the Northern Star Court’s intervention right now. But one day, she would be.

She folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. The sealing wax stamp on the envelope had been cracked when it was opened, and the seven-pointed star pattern was broken into several pieces. She tried to stick them back together with tape, but it wouldn’t stick.

She rolled over and pulled the blanket over herself. The ball on her wrist vibrated gently, in sync with her heartbeat. She placed her hand on the ball, feeling its faint warmth.

“Cheng Ran”.

“exist.”

“Polaris knows we’re at Chafengyuan Agriculture, knows we’re at Chaliuhe Village, knows we’re doing facial recognition. It knows everything.”

“So he will prepare in advance.”

What’s our next step?

Cheng Ran was silent for a few seconds. “Continue investigating those three people. They are the visible members of the Northern Star Court. People in the open have weaknesses. Once we find their weaknesses, we can break through.”

“good.”

The streetlights outside cast blurry patches of light through the curtains. Lin Jiqiu looked at those patches of light and thought of her father. If he had received a letter like this, what would he have done? She didn’t know. But she knew she wouldn’t turn back.