Chapter 254: You Can Only Pray

"Director Yang, you've been flipping through those files for two days straight—is it really that necessary?"

The young driver, seeing her puzzled expression, couldn't help asking.

The Yang woman set down the documents in her hands and sighed: "You wouldn't understand."

"I don't get it—it's just some random retirement home, why do you need to come yourself?" the driver muttered. "You've even paused your overseas work…"

"Look around you."

Director Yang gestured toward the car window.

Under the setting sun, the plants and trees in the hills looked unnaturally black-green.

"Tell me—in Beijing, at this time of year, have you ever seen anything like this?"

"The experts said this year's climate is abnormal—plants sprouting early and all that—and the livestream added special effects, so it's even more…"

"Those experts? I hired them," Director Yang smirked. "Otherwise, who knows how big a stir this might've caused."

The young driver stared at the bizarre scenery beyond the hills, his confusion deepening.

"So what exactly is going on with this retirement home?"

"Let me put it this way—I've consulted several senior scholars," Director Yang explained. "Current technology simply can't achieve this effect."

"Then… what's the true origin of this retirement home?"

"How would I know? Maybe some secret cult is putting on a show, or maybe they've acquired alien tech and plan to become modern gods—it's all speculation."

"…."

The driver winced—he knew this matter was extremely sensitive. Mainly because this retirement home truly seemed to have something real going on.

"So what are you planning to do, Director Yang?"

"Do you think I've done nothing these past two days?"

"Huh?"

"Above has prepared several contingency plans—they're aliens, they're immortals descended from heaven, they're faking it…" Director Yang explained. "I'm here to scout the ground."

"Scout what kind of ground?"

The driver froze, involuntarily asking.

Director Yang glanced at him, saying nothing.

The driver suddenly seemed to realize something, his face filled with shock.

"If they weren't so sensitive in status, and if we didn't know whether these people were friend or foe, or what their goals were… they'd come themselves."

The driver clenched his lips, as if afraid to ask further: "No wonder they sent you, Director Yang…"

Director Yang shook her head, as if realizing she shouldn't say more, then pulled out several personnel files:

"Five people in this retirement home each have their own background—they're all no ordinary individuals. But two of them arrived later; the original core should be these three…" Director Yang pointed to the files of Zheng Fa, Tang Lingwumin, and the White Elder.

"Among them, this young girl is just exceptionally beautiful—nothing else special. Her family has some money, but that's nothing unusual."

"The odd ones are the other two."

"This young man, Zheng Fa—an orphan. He has the poorest background among them, underwent the most drastic changes after his parents' death, and has the least documentation—he's extremely mysterious…"

"So is he an alien?"

"…." Director Yang hesitated, then shook her head. "I suspect the White Professor."

"Huh?"

"First, he has sufficient social standing. Zheng Fa would find it hard to gather such a group of highly educated people—interpersonally, everyone here except Zheng Fa is connected to him. Professor Tian is his old friend, now his wife; Tang Lingwumin is his relative; Tang Mudao knew him from years ago…"

"Second, he studied qigong in his youth…"

"Third, in a recent livestream, he displayed extraordinary physical vitality—almost like reversing aging…"

"He's likely the mastermind behind all this, and Zheng Fa—being an orphan—was placed on the surface as a decoy…"

Hearing her analysis, the driver couldn't help nodding.

…

As they spoke, the car arrived at the retirement home's gate.

The gate slowly opened—as if it had known they were coming.

Director Yang glanced at the driver; he pressed his waist, then nodded to her.

Both took a deep breath, and the car drove into the courtyard.

As they reached the main building, a slightly overweight man stepped out—he was someone they both knew: Tang Mudao.

"This man isn't ordinary either. He holds some standing in the international academic world and has turned the Daoist Association into a thriving organization."

Tang Mudao hurried forward, warmly greeting them: "Miss Yang, Mr. Chen, welcome!"

Director Yang and the driver exchanged glances, their alertness rising—they felt the people here possessed uncanny abilities, and worse, it felt like a warning.

Seeing their expressions, Tang Mudao seemed to understand their thoughts and smiled: "Don't overthink it. I call you this way only to show we know who you are… it's just our style."

"Style? What style?"

"If we know, we say it. If we can speak, we speak plainly," Tang Mudao smiled at them. "We're straightforward—no mysticism."

Director Yang paused, startled.

Clearly, this wasn't what she'd expected.

But she didn't press further.

The three passed through the main building and arrived at the small house where Zheng Fa and the others lived.

"It's not that we're deliberately rude—everyone except me is extremely busy, racing against time."

Tang Mudao apologized.

Director Yang paused again, then asked: "Aren't you deliberately drawing us here?"

"Of course!" Tang Mudao nodded briskly. "But our main work is still research—trying to attract you is part of that research…"

Director Yang and the driver exchanged glances, their confusion deepening.

After taking two more steps, they understood why Tang Mudao had said that—

In the agricultural lab, Professor Tian, in a white coat, was busily observing the crops just harvested from Tian Zhong.

But the lush, thriving crops in the middle of winter made the two stare longer.

Tang Lingwumin sat before a computer, her fingers dancing across the keyboard.

If you ignored that she was levitating cross-legged in midair… the scene looked perfectly normal.

The White Elder—their presumed boss—held a pencil, scribbling on paper, scratching his white hair in apparent distress.

He didn't even notice their arrival.

Seeing the two wires attached to the old man's body, their eyes twitched.

As for Zheng Fa…

A large monitor in front of him displayed what looked like an e-book.

He held a remote, rapidly flipping pages, his eyes fixed on the screen as if muttering lines to memorize.

Indeed, Zheng Fa was the only normal person in this courtyard!

…

Zheng Fa had known they were coming long ago—he wasn't putting on airs; he was genuinely busy. He'd gathered many books and materials on coding, computer architecture, and instruction sets, planning to memorize them all to bring back for Zhang Shijie's reference.

He didn't fully understand this field himself.

On the other hand, maybe one of these books would spark an idea for Zhang Shijie?

So he'd resolved to waste no minute—memorize as much as he could, turning himself into a living hard drive.

When the two entered the courtyard, Zheng Fa finally spoke: "Welcome."

He led them to the first-floor living room; Tang Mudao quietly slipped away.

At that moment, Director Yang was startled—she realized this man was the true master of the retirement home.

She seemed to have grasped Zheng Fa's nature and spoke bluntly: "Mr. Zheng, you summoned us—what do you want?"

"I know your position, but I don't fully understand your authority. Now tell me: can you accomplish these two things?"

Zheng Fa had no intention of mystifying—he simply handed her two research project proposals.

"'Study of Special Electromagnetic Signals During the Twenty-Four Solar Terms'?"

"'A Circuit Design for Artificial Intelligence'?"

Director Yang lifted her head, her expression more confused than ever, but she stayed silent, lowering her eyes to study the proposals.

"This… I'll need to consult others. And…" Director Yang gave a subtle smile. "What I can do depends on who you are and what your goals are."

Zheng Fa sighed softly.

He'd grown tired of all this mysticism—he'd hoped for open, honest talk.

"You've seen it—we're doing research."

"Research what?"

"Cultivation."

"I never thought those two words could be used together like this…" Director Yang had suspected it, but hearing Zheng Fa say it outright still stunned her. She paused, then said: "But Mr. Zheng… this claim won't convince anyone."

Zheng Fa smiled faintly—and suddenly vanished before their eyes.

Director Yang's eyelid twitched, but her face remained expressionless: "Mr. Zheng, such invisibility… some technology can achieve that."

"I simply don't want others to see us."

"Us?"

Director Yang froze, looked down—and realized she too had vanished from the air.

Looking beside her, she saw the driver had vanished as well.

"Miss Yang, are you a native of the capital?"

"Yes."

Yang Ju answered absently.

"Then would you be so kind as to show me around the capital?"

"Huh?"

The next moment, Yang Ju and the other felt themselves enveloped by a force, hurtling swiftly toward the capital.

It had taken them nearly three hours to reach this place from the capital.

Yet in less than twenty minutes, they were back at their starting point.

Zheng Fa seemed deeply interested in the capital, visiting several locations—though all from the air, and not a single soul noticed them.

……

When the two emerged from the nursing home, Yang Ju remained dazed.

She gripped the project proposal tightly in her hand, her neck stiff—as if afraid to look back.

"Miss Yang?"

The driver spoke only when they reached the foot of the mountain: "Are we… just going back?"

"What else?"

Yang Ju's tone carried a hint of self-mockery.

"So… we just do as they say?"

"Didn't Tang Muda say their goal is cooperation? They just need us to demonstrate our capabilities first."

"... e just believe whatever he says?"

"Do you really think Zheng Fa was merely taking us on a tour?" Yang Ju sighed. "With abilities like his… what could stop him from doing whatever he wanted?"

"..."

The driver's face paled as Yang Ju continued:

"All you can do is pray that these people truly want to cooperate with us."

"And…" Yang Ju pulled out a glass vial containing a few peas. "Didn't they already show their price?"