Chapter 110: Rust‑Powder Tracking·Speculative Warehouse Secret

Zhao Jianguo yanked down the hair‑thin metal wire, the blade cutting a cold flash of light in the gloom. He didn't dare be careless, so he tore a strip of cloth from his cuff, wrapped the wire end, and shoved it into the System Terminal's sampling slot. Seconds later, the Screen displayed a line of text: "Memory‑alloy particles detected; Signal previously linked to Shanghai Relay Station No. 3."

His brows twitched; he tucked the Terminal into his chest and turned to hoist Chen Jianguo. The man was now frighteningly light, his breath cold against Zhao Jianguo's neck. Zhao Jianguo gritted his teeth and moved forward, his foot slipping and nearly falling on the threshold—only then noticing a burlap sack that had appeared on the ground at some unknown time, bulging as if it contained something heavy.

"Who left this here?" he muttered low, reaching to feel the mouth of the sack.

"I did!" a coarse voice suddenly shouted from behind, startling him into a sharp turn, nearly flinging Chen Jianguo out.

Sha Zhu stood at the doorway, a shoulder‑pole slung over his shoulder, his face covered in ash, his trousers rolled up to the knees, mud specks clinging. "What are you two doing in this busted warehouse? Isn't Xu Da Mao's grandson already captured?" he said while walking in, his shoes thudding the floor, "I was collecting grain in the countryside, passed by Old Li's donkey cart, the bottom was unusually heavy. I pried open the compartment and saw it was full of iron lumps. I thought, 'Jianguo, you know these odd gadgets, I'll get them to you right away.'"

Zhao Jianguo exhaled, thinking to himself that Sha Zhu had arrived at just the right moment. He pointed to the corner: "Don't turn on the lights yet; dump the stuff out and let's see."

Sha Zhu answered with a nod, dropped the sack onto the floor, untied the rope and tipped it over with a whoosh. A pile of rust‑spotted parts tumbled out—some ring‑shaped, some with gear sets, and a few bent tubes, all coated in a black‑ish oily sludge.

"That's it?" Zhao Jianguo crouched, casually picking up a palm‑sized Metal Sheet.

"Exactly," Sha Zhu scratched his head. "I thought it was scrap copper and junk, but it was dead heavy and the sound when struck was off."

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, silently initiating a system scan. A flash of green light, and the Screen displayed a prompt: "Future‑Alloy‑7 type alloy residue detected, match 92.3%, source: unregistered spacetime node."

His eyelids twitched. He had seen this material in the future—heat‑resistant, corrosion‑proof, used exclusively for high‑energy experimental equipment. The problem was that such alloy wouldn't be deployed for at least a few decades, so it shouldn't be appearing on this land now.

He flipped through the other parts, his fingers suddenly halting—on the edge of a centrifugal rotor was etched a string of minuscule numbers. He squinted for two seconds, his heart skipping a beat.

That was the serial number of a micro reactor component he himself had designed.

The blueprint was drawn last month; the factory hadn't even begun production, let alone broken it into parts to ship to the countryside and hide in a grain‑cart compartment. The only explanation was that someone had obtained his design in advance, perhaps even fabricated a finished product.

"Something's off," he whispered. "These things shouldn't be here."

"What do you mean?" Sha Zhu leaned in. "Did someone steal them?"

"Worse than theft," Zhao Jianguo tossed the parts back into the sack. "Someone is using a method we don't know, smuggling bits of future technology out piece by piece."

He glanced around the warehouse. The place had originally been Xu Da Mao's private storage, piled with fabrics, saccharin, soap tickets, now half cleared, leaving broken crates and things covered with oilcloth. He stepped forward, lifted a piece of oilcloth, and beneath it lay a small vacuum pump, its interface sanded smooth, part of the rust layer scraped off.

The system scanned again, yielding the same result: containing future alloy, with weak radiation residue.

"Prompt incoming," he read aloud. "'The equipment was used in high‑energy particle experiments; operators must possess Permission Level 3 or above.'"

"What's Permission Level 3?" Sha Zhu sounded completely confused.

"The meaning, he squinted, 'Anyone doing this not only knows the tech but has handled core projects. Either they came from the future, or… someone inside has opened a back channel.'"

Sha Zhu grinned, "Then it's simple—grab Xu Da Mao and ask!"

"Xu Da Mao?" Zhao Jianguo sneered. "He's at most a runner. Who the real mastermind is, we still can't see."

As he spoke, Chen Jianguo coughed weakly on his back, his throat sounding clogged, voice broken: "Don't… trust… the system's last…"

"I know." Zhao Jianguo patted his hand. "You said the prompt's tone was off."

"Not the tone…" Chen Jianguo strained to open his eyes, his gaze unfocused. "It's the date… 1978.3.15… that point in time… hasn't arrived… it shouldn't appear…"

Before he could finish, he slipped into unconsciousness again.

Zhao Jianguo's heart tightened. He remembered that date—it was written on the back of the photo Chen Jianguo had given him, also the day Su Qing first entered the library. But what year is it now? 1969! Almost a decade off! How could the system flag a future event nine years early?

Unless… someone altered the timestamp.

He gently laid Chen Jianguo onto a pile of sacks, removed his Coat and draped it over him. Then he pulled out the Terminal, flipped to the log page, and stared at that string of numbers for a long while.

"Jianguo?" Sha Zhu lowered his voice. "What do we do next?"

"First, hold steady." Zhao Jianguo tucked away the Terminal. "These things can't stay here, nor can we take them away. Once moved, the tracking signal will expose our location."

"We can't just wait, can we?"

"No waiting." Zhao Jianguo rose, walked to the window, carefully pried open a slit. Outside, night was thick, distant highway lights flickered faintly. He tried to get a clearer view when a low, humming sound rolled in from afar, like some instrument gently vibrating.

He instantly turned his head back and made a shushing gesture to Sha Zhu.

The two held their breath, leaning against the wall. Minutes later, a black Jeep eased to a stop fifty meters from the warehouse. Its lights went out, the door opened, and three silhouettes stepped out, dressed in dark work clothes, each carrying a box. The leader held a palm‑sized device, its screen glowing blue, inching toward them.

"It's a signal detector," Zhao Jianguo whispered, moving back toward the Wall Base. "They're after the Signal Source."

"Our storage disk?" Sha Zhu stared.

"More than that." Zhao Jianguo shook his head. "They're after the whole system's frequency. As soon as we power up a scan, we'll be locked on."

"So what now? Hide and stay still?"

"Standing still won't work." Zhao Jianguo quickly pulled a small bottle of powder from his toolkit, gray‑brown, looking like iron filings mixed with sand. "This is rust powder I filtered from Laboratory waste last time, blended with magnetic particles. You'll slip out the back door in a moment, sprinkle a ring along the Wall Base—make it as dense as possible."

"What's it for?"

"To deceive them." Zhao Jianguo's mouth twitched upward. "Make them think the Signal Source is outside the wall, giving us a chance to backtrack."

Sha Zhu grinned, "Your trick's ruthless, I like it."

He took the bottle and was about to move when a muffled clang echoed from the other end of the warehouse, like metal striking metal. All three froze simultaneously.

Zhao Jianguo raised his hand to signal silence, crouched to the shelf, and peered through a gap. He saw the side vent's metal sheet pried open a corner from outside; a hand was slowly reaching in, holding a thin tube, spraying some colorless liquid into the room.

His nostrils twitched; a faint bitter odor drifted in.

"Don't inhale!" he growled low. "It's a haze!"

The words barely left his mouth when the blue light of the external detector flared wildly, and the leader snapped his head up, staring straight into the warehouse.

Zhao Jianguo instantly dropped prone, his heartbeat hammering his ribs. He knew the other side had realized there was more than one Signal Source inside.

Sha Zhu also went prone, the shoulder‑pole across his chest, muttering quietly, "This is trouble; we can't fight them, and we can't run."

"Who says we can't run?" Zhao Jianguo fished the Terminal from his chest, quickly programmed a timed signal release, then slipped it into an empty tin can. "In a moment I'll toss this thing out; they'll chase it. You take Chen Jianguo out the back door while I draw them away."

"What about you?"

"I have my own way." He smiled. "Besides, have you forgotten who I am? The Siheyuan Attendance King, who gets up early every day and never clocks in late."

Sha Zhu was startled, then laughed out loud, "You still have the energy to be petty now?"

"The tighter we're pressed, the more jokes I make." Zhao Jianguo clenched the tin can, "Otherwise my brain won't work."

He inhaled deeply, about to toss it out, when he suddenly heard Chen Jianguo weakly say from behind: "Don't… go east side… there… is an ambush…"

Zhao Jianguo's motion halted.

He slowly turned, looking toward the warehouse's east side at the half‑collapsed wooden door. Moonlight slanted in, a shadow on the floor flickered slightly—as if someone had just left.