My childhood friend is in her mature, sophisticated form again today. - Chapter 74

“The ‘south’ area that Zhao Yuanshan mentioned is too broad.” Cheng Ran capped his pen, leaned back in his chair, and pointed to the six points on the nautical chart in turn. “There are six sonar anomalies within two hundred nautical miles south of the deep-sea station. I’ve already done a preliminary screening. Three of them are indeed natural topography—traces left by underwater volcanic activity. The other two are probably reflection deviations caused by sediment. But the other three,” his fingertip paused on the red circles, “have unnatural seabed reflection signals. It’s like something is standing there, bouncing the sound waves back, and the way it bounces back is regular.”

“The new base of the Heavenly Palace Division may be located in one of these places.” Lin Jiqiu said this in a calm tone, as if stating a fact that had been largely confirmed.

“Possibly. But there’s no direct evidence.” Cheng Ran spoke frankly; he never encouraged conclusions when data was insufficient.

Lin Jiqiu looked down at the three red circles again. They were scattered across an area of ​​more than a hundred nautical miles wide, about fifty nautical miles apart, arranged like an equilateral triangle. If one of them was the real target, the other two were most likely decoys—but the Heavenly Palace Division never let anyone see through their schemes easily; they would likely make the disguises flawless, making each location appear both real and fake. Lin Jiqiu thought of the experience at the deep-sea station, the pitch-black underwater tunnels, the silently operating equipment, and Zhao Yuanshan’s sunken face after being trapped for eleven days. The other side wasn’t the type to leave obvious flaws.

“What about the freight records?” he asked. “Can we find out the flow of materials when the deep survey station was relocated?”

“I checked.” Cheng Ran turned the tablet screen towards Lin Jiqiu, displaying a table with most rows empty. “But most of the records have been deleted. The last material outbound record from the deep survey station only had one line: ‘Equipment transfer, destination unknown.’” He swiped his thumb across the screen to turn to the next page. “All the attachments, details, recipients, and transportation methods were all deleted. Only this summary remains in the database, as if someone hurriedly erased traces before leaving, but missed this line.”

“A withdrawal without leaving a trace.”

“Hmm. But I found a procurement list in the old database of the deep-sea station.” Cheng Ran switched to a spreadsheet, and the screen lit up, displaying a long list of items in tiny print, densely covering the page. “This list was submitted three months before the deep-sea station was shut down. It contains supplies prepared for the new base—pressure hull material, in large quantities, enough to assemble at least one medium-sized watertight compartment according to specifications; two sets of deep-sea communication equipment, serving as backups for each other; and a large energy system, with a four-page list of components.”

Lin Jiqiu’s attention was immediately drawn to the last item. “Energy system? What kind of energy system?”

“The document doesn’t specify the model number, only the power and specifications.” Cheng Ran zoomed in on that line of parameters, revealing a string of numbers and units. “But this power level isn’t what’s needed for a typical deep-sea submersible or research station. A deep-sea station’s own energy system is only one-sixth of this. This scale is more like something used to power some kind of large equipment—perhaps a complete extraction system, or a long-running processing line. Or maybe both.”

Lin Jiqiu’s fingers paused on his knee, then tightened and loosened. “Originium extraction equipment.”

“Maybe. Or maybe something else.” Cheng Ran put the tablet away, his face briefly illuminated by the white light of the screen. “But whatever it is, that new base is much larger than the deep-sea station, and the equipment is much more advanced. The deep-sea station is at best a forward observation post, while the new base is the real work station.”

Lin Jiqiu leaned back on the sofa, his gaze fixed on the nautical chart. Three red circles, six sonar anomalies, a four-page purchase list, and a shipment record with all destinations deleted. The clues piled together were like pieces of wood washed ashore by the tide; they hadn’t yet formed a complete outline, but the general shape of the ship was already discernible.

“Chengran, which of these three sonar anomalies is most likely?”

Cheng Ran seemed to have been waiting for him to ask this. He zoomed in on a red circle on the map and circled the location with his finger. “This one. It’s about 120 nautical miles from the deep-sea station, at a depth of 1,400 meters. The seabed topography is a submerged crater with very steep slopes at the edges, exceeding 35 degrees. Sonar signals would appear in large shadows here, perfectly blocking detection. But in the middle of the crater, there’s a fairly flat area, about two square kilometers in size, as if it had been leveled. If a base were built in that place, the steep slopes at the edges would act as a natural barrier, while the flat central area could accommodate large facilities. It’s both concealable and spacious enough to be deployed.”

“What about the other two?”

“One is a submarine rift valley, but the terrain is too complex, with an elevation difference of more than 200 meters, making it unsuitable for building large facilities and even causing trouble in laying communication lines. The other is a flat sedimentary plain with no obstructions, which is completely visible when satellites pass overhead and can be thoroughly scanned by sonar. Only the crater is the most suitable.”

Lin Jiqiu looked at the red circle and took a picture of the coordinates with his phone. The numbers on the screen were arranged coldly and rigidly, like a destination yet to be reached. “Someone might already be operating there.”

“If what Zhao Yuanshan said is true—‘much deeper than here, and much more difficult to operate’—then they should have been operating there for some time. The deep-sea station is an old facility that has been abandoned. The new base is the core.”

“Then we should go and take a look.”

Cheng Ran was silent for two seconds. “Fourteen hundred meters. Three hundred meters deeper than the deep-sea station.”

“If I could go down last time, I can do it this time too.”

Cheng Ran didn’t refute. He turned back and pulled up detailed terrain data for the crater area. The 3D model slowly rotated on the screen, the outline of the crater resembling a bowl filled with seawater, its edges uneven, with a layer of flat sediment in the center. “If we’re going down, we’ll need better equipment. Last time the detector was rented; next time we must use our own equipment and control all the parameters ourselves. Moreover, if the Celestial Palace Division is indeed operating there, there’s a high probability that there are patrol routes or fixed monitoring nodes nearby.”

“Then we’ll observe from the outside. We won’t get close; let’s confirm its existence first.”

“good.”

Ah You emerged from the kitchen carrying a pot of freshly brewed tea, the porcelain pot emitting wisps of white steam. He poured a cup for each of them; the tea was clear and bright, at the perfect temperature for drinking—neither too strong nor too weak. He glanced down at the unfolded nautical chart on the coffee table, his gaze lingering on the three red circles. Without asking anything, he set down his teacup and turned to return to the kitchen, his apron strap loosely tied behind his back. Ah Hua jumped down from the windowsill, her four paws landing silently on the edge of the coffee table. She stretched her neck and peered closely at the nautical chart, her amber eyes fixed intently on the red circles for a long while, as if trying to discern whether they were the shapes of fish or something else. Then, she flicked her tail and jumped back onto the windowsill.

Lin Jiqiu picked up her teacup and took a sip. The temperature was just right. “Chengran, could you find out the suppliers on that purchase list?”

“I’ve checked.” Cheng Ran’s voice was lower. “The supplier is a company registered overseas called ‘Deep Blue Technology.’ No valid records can be found for the legal representative, and the registered address is a non-existent floor number. The only thing that can be confirmed is a set of bank accounts, with funds flowing through multiple layers of transfers, ultimately pointing to Tiangongsi’s account in the south. A shell company, very typical of Tiangongsi’s style.”

“Deep Blue Technology.” Lin Jiqiu slowly read the name aloud. “It’s probably just a shell company they registered themselves from the beginning to bypass procurement reviews.”

“That’s highly likely. The supply chain of the Heavenly Palace Division has always operated this way; they rarely purchase sensitive materials directly in their own name.”

Lin Jiqiu put down his teacup, carefully folded the nautical chart, and neatly placed it back to its original size along the creases, then placed it flat into the file folder. The zipper made a soft, crisp sound as it closed. “Our next step is to confirm whether there is a Tiangongsi base in that volcano.” He looked up at Cheng Ran. “How much time do we need to prepare?”

“As for equipment and supplies, A-Zuo is already in contact. The detector has arrived, and other supplies and spare parts will arrive in four days at most. Not too long.”

“Then get ready and let’s go.”

“good.”

The sky outside the window was darkening. A grey-blue twilight slanted down between the tall buildings, and a row of streetlights illuminated the scene, their warm yellow light casting long shadows of the roadside trees. The flower shop had already closed its shutters; the greenery outside had been moved inside, leaving only a few empty flowerpots stacked in the corner. The café was still lit; someone sat by the window reading a book, a barely touched cup of coffee beside them. Lin Jiqiu stood by the window, watching those lights, those quiet lights shining in other people’s lives, feeling they were so far removed from his own. He thought of Zhao Yuanshan. The man who had been detained at the deep-sea station for eleven days should now be staying at the accommodations arranged by A Zuo. That place was remote, quiet, difficult to find, and almost devoid of internet access. He wasn’t sure if Zhao Yuanshan would contact him again—contact itself was risky, leaving traces, potentially being intercepted. But he knew that after Zhao Yuanshan said those things, there was no going back. Those words were like a key, opening a door a crack, behind which lay something that could never be closed again. Lin Jiqiu propped up the crack in the door for him.

The next morning, when Lin Jiqiu went downstairs, the stairwell still held the chill of the previous night. A-Zuo was talking to someone at the door. The man was wearing faded work clothes, his cuffs stained with oil. A long, rectangular metal box sat at his feet, its corners plastered with damp mud, as if it had just been unloaded from a truck at a dock. A-Zuo offered him a cigarette, but the man waved it off. After a brief exchange, A-Zuo took the box, thanked him, and the man turned and left quickly, his hat brim pulled low, without looking back.

A-Zuo carried the box into the house and placed it next to the coffee table. The metal base made a dull thud as it hit the floor tiles. “The equipment has arrived.” He squatted down and lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a new type of underwater detector, smaller than the one he had rented last time, but with a significantly thicker outer shell. The surface was covered with a dark gray anti-corrosion coating that felt like fine sandpaper, with a lot of friction. An additional robotic arm was attached to the bottom of the device, folding and retracting neatly to the side like a praying mantis’s forelegs. The end had a quick-change interface for attaching grippers, a cutting blade, or a sampling drill bit.

“This probe can descend to 2,000 meters, which is 600 meters more than the depth we need, with ample margin in both signal and power. The robotic arm is highly precise, capable of performing fine sampling on the seabed without disturbing the surrounding environment. Moreover, it has its own communication relay function, so it doesn’t need to rely on the mother ship’s communication equipment—it is its own signal base station.” A-Zuo patted the parameter label affixed to the inside of the box lid.

Lin Jiqiu crouched down and examined the detector closely. The joints of the robotic arm were sealed with waterproof gaskets, each one tightly pressed together. He reached out and touched the surface of the outer shell; his fingertips slid across the gray coating. The touch was cool, like touching a pebble that had been soaking in a stream for a long time—smooth, but not the reflective kind; rather, it had a matte, smooth finish, polished by water. “Has Cheng Ran looked at it?”

“I’ve checked it. He said it’s fine.”

Lin Jiqiu nodded. Ayou came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of noodles, the noodles neatly arranged, with a fried egg on top, steam rising slowly. He placed the bowl on the coffee table and wiped his hands on his apron. “Eat first.”

Lin Jiqiu sat down to eat his noodles, the steam rising from them as he picked them up with his chopsticks. He ate slowly, one bite at a time. The broth was a little hot, so he blew on the bowl to cool it before drinking. Halfway through his meal, his phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated with a short buzz. He put down his chopsticks, took out his phone, and saw a message from Zhao Yuanshan on the screen. It contained only a few words, like fragments retrieved from the depths of a memory:

“I just remembered something. The new base will not only have a deep-sea station, but also onshore facilities.”

Lin Jiqiu stared at that sentence for several seconds. There was no context, no tone, only that line of text shining coldly. He put down his chopsticks, held his phone in his hand, and replied, “Where’s the land-based support?”

A while later, Zhao Yuanshan sent another message: “I don’t know the exact location. But I heard them say ‘point seven’.”

“Point seven?” Lin Jiqiu turned the screen towards Cheng Ran.

Cheng Ran leaned closer to look. He read the three words on the screen repeatedly. “Point Seven. It might be an internal number within the Heavenly Palace Division. We’ve seen something similar in the procurement list of the Deep Survey Station—the material delivery address only lists the number, without specific place names, house numbers, or port names. They compress geographical information into codes, and then only allow a few people to master the decoding rules.”

“This means that ‘Point Seven’ is very likely the land portion of the new base.” Lin Jiqiu looked down at the three words again, then replied to Zhao Yuanshan, “Can you think of anything else?”

A long while passed, so long that he almost thought the other person wouldn’t reply again, before his phone lit up again. Zhao Yuanshan’s reply was only one sentence: “That’s all. That’s all I could remember.”

Lin Jiqiu put his phone back in his pocket. “‘Point Seven’. Land-based support. The new base of the Heavenly Palace Division isn’t just underwater; it also has a land-based component. It could be a dock, a warehouse, a supply depot, or—.”

“Or it could be a research facility,” Cheng Ran continued. “Originium samples collected from the deep sea can’t be processed underwater indefinitely. No matter how advanced the extraction process becomes, the samples will eventually need to be moved to land for refining, processing, and transportation. The deep-sea testing station didn’t have complete processing capabilities back then, so if the new base is really that much larger than the deep-sea testing station, the land portion will inevitably be larger than before.”

Lin Jiqiu glanced at the message in her phone’s inbox again, then locked the screen and placed the phone on the corner of the coffee table. “Chengran, help me check information related to ‘Point Seven’. See if this number has appeared in the Heavenly Palace Division’s past records, in what context it appeared, and in which region it was associated with.”

“We’re already investigating.” Cheng Ran pulled a tablet out from the sofa cushions. The screen lit up, and a series of soft keystrokes echoed. “But the internal numbering system of the Heavenly Palace Division is very complex. The numbering rules in different regions may be completely different. If ‘Point Seven’ is indeed a coastal number, it may belong to a system in their southern coastal region, and it’s not in the same database as the land-based facilities.”

“If we find it, we’ll go there first, then go into the sea.”

What if we can’t find it?

Lin Jiqiu paused for a moment. A car drove by outside the window, its tires making a wet sound as they rolled over the puddle. He looked at the newly arrived detector; its metal casing gleamed with a matte gray sheen under the light. “Then let’s go straight to the crater. We can look for the land-based parts when we get back, but the underwater stuff won’t wait for us.”

Cheng Ran nodded, placed the tablet on his lap, and continued typing. Ayou came over and took away the empty bowl, the chopsticks making a soft sound as they touched the rim of the porcelain bowl. Ahua jumped down from the windowsill again, walked around to the edge of the coffee table, lowered his head, and sniffed the metal box, his beard trembling slightly, as if he had smelled an unfamiliar deep-sea scent.

Lin Jiqiu stood up and walked to the window. The sky was darker than yesterday, the clouds hung low, and the wind blew in from the street corner, making the billboards sway slightly. Zhao Yuanshan’s new message was still lit up on his phone; the lingering warmth of the white light on the screen could still be felt through the fabric, like a small signal held in his hand, weak but continuously pulsating. Point Seven. Land-based support. The outline of the new base was gradually emerging, like a huge shadow slowly rising from the deep sea, its outline blurred but its size immense, moving towards the light from the unseen. He stood there looking at the empty street under the streetlights, feeling that the shadow was still waiting for them in a more distant place.