Chapter 119

After the bicycle bell's sound vanished at the alley mouth, Zhao Jianguo set his toolbox down by his feet and, without thinking, pulled out the old alarm clock from his pocket. The hands had just passed six; he wound the spring, and the watch‑face glass flashed in the morning light. This clock was something he'd picked up at the Scrap Yard—it runs slow, but its vibration frequency happens to interfere with certain signal trackings—he wouldn't dare actually put that red‑brick powder from last night into the Laboratory.

"Brother, you really plan to rely on this broken clock to find clues?" Dong Xu crouched beside him, still clutching a half‑burned corner of a blueprint.

"Not rely on it, rely on the system." Zhao Jianguo flipped open the clock casing, revealing a tiny circuit board underneath, "The magnetic powder sample sealed last night has already activated the tracking protocol; now we just see if it can latch onto that signal."

As his words fell, his wrist jerked violently—not an illusion, but the Sign‑in Interface popped up: "Detected matching magnetic residue, locking on……error range within three hundred meters."

Chen Jianguo stood a few steps away, his windbreaker still damp, hearing the alert he only said: "South."

"How do you know?" Dong Xu turned his head to look at him.

"The wind blew it." Chen Jianguo pointed to his nose, "Rust mixed with oil, plus a hint of sour rot—that's the smell of the southern scrap collection area; I've smelled it three times."

Zhao Jianguo didn't ask further, picked up the alarm clock, grabbed his toolbox and left. "Dong Xu, follow me—wear the old work clothes and a cap. We're going to collect scrap copper and iron."

The three left the Siheyuan, silent all the way. Arriving at the gate of the southern compound, Zhao Jianguo had Chen Jianguo set up a foldable small device that looked like a radio antenna stand but was actually a drone remote controller. It rose silently, skimming the rooftops into the warehouse area.

"I see it." Chen Jianguo stared at the screen, "Northeast corner, third shed—under the door gap there's bluish‑gray residue."

Zhao Jianguo narrowed his eyes at the low buildings, then turned to Dong Xu: "Go in and say you're here to collect old motor parts, and while you're at it, inspect the goods. Don't mention the gear set, and don't give any names—just ask if they have any 'magnetic iron lumps'."

"What if I get recognized?"

"Just say you were introduced by your cousin." Zhao Jianguo patted his shoulder, "Anyway, you have so many cousins, who can keep track?"

Dong Xu gave a grin, adjusted his collar, and lowered his head into the alley.

Inside the shed the light was dim, filled with disassembled machine scraps. A tall, thin man was squatting on the ground fiddling with a pile of screws; hearing footsteps, he looked up and his expression changed instantly.

"What do you want?" the man rasped.

"Scrap goods." Dong Xu produced a cigarette wrapped in oil paper and handed it over, "I heard there's a batch of magnetic gear sets here; I just want to check the quality."

"You…… aren't you the Jia family guy? The one who does Mechanical Lesson?"

"My second aunt's neighbor's sister‑in‑law is your cousin." Dong Xu chuckled, "Who else could I be?"

After sizing him up suspiciously for a while, the man finally said: "The stuff is here, but it's not for sale."

"Why not sell? You've got it in hand and still won't monetize it?"

"Waiting for someone to pick it up." The man lowered his voice, "A guy with gold‑rimmed glasses said he'd come by car tonight to haul it away."

"Oh, quite particular." Dong Xu pretended to squat and rummage through the box, "So, how valuable is this gear set? I don't think it's worth much."

"Whether it's valuable isn't for you to say." The man suddenly grew wary, "Just who sent you here? Speak clearly!"

Dong Xu kept his composure, his finger lightly brushing the edge of the gear set—his fingertip instantly picked up a speck of bluish‑gray powder. He casually rubbed it on his sleeve, continuing to bluff, "Lao Lao Li Tou Tou sent me; he's the bike‑repair guy on West Street."

"Lao Lao Li Tou Tou's been dead three months." The man's face darkened, and he reached out to stop him.

Dong Xu had anticipated this, sidestepping back two steps: "Oh sorry, sorry, I got it mixed up—it was Wang Mazǐ who introduced me!"

A whistle sounded outside; as Zhao Jianguo and his men burst in, that guy was about to smash the gear set to cover his tracks. The pliers clamped the metal chunk mid‑air, sending sparks flying.

"Don't destroy the evidence!" Zhao Jianguo snatched the gear set and shoved it into an evidence bag, "This is our Laboratory's treasure."

The man was pinned to the ground, still shouting, "What right do you have to arrest me? I didn't steal anything—I just picked it up!"

"Picked up?" Zhao Jianguo shone the UV Lamp on it, and the notch in the gear set glowed faint blue, "This kind of magnetic powder exists in only two places in the city—one is our Laboratory, the other is the address written on that little slip of paper in your pocket."

The slip was pulled from his inner coat pocket, reading: "After delivery, go to Shanghai Hospital to treat Jia Gong's madness—leave quickly."

"Who gave it to you?" Zhao Jianguo crouched, his tone calm.

"Nobody!" the man turned his head, "I picked it up myself! I just wanted to make a couple bucks for medical treatment."

"What ailment do you have?" Dong Xu leaned in, "You say it's to cure my 'madness'? When did I ever go mad?"

"You certainly wouldn't know!" the man suddenly exclaimed, "They say your brain's burned out, that everything you make is heretical nonsense! Only the gold‑rimmed glasses can save you! And they can save my grandma too! She says she dare not stop it, but deep down she hopes this succeeds."

Zhao Jianguo and Dong Xu exchanged a glance.

"Grandma?" Dong Xu frowned, "You mean Jia Zhangshi?"

"She's my grandaunt!" the man shouted, "I'm her distant nephew! I usually run errands for her—buying medicine, delivering letters… this time she said if I could get the new machine's parts, she'd arrange for me to go to Shanghai for treatment, and you too!"

Chen Jianguo had been standing in the corner; now he suddenly spoke, "What do the gold‑rimmed glasses look like?"

"I've never seen his face." The man shook his head, "He always wears a hat, speaks softly like a southerner. Every time he comes at night, riding a black bicycle whose bell never rings."

Zhao Jianguo secured the evidence bag, then turned to the accompanying personnel: "First take him away, lock him up in Security. Notebook, transaction records, everything he touched—seal it all."

As they left the warehouse, the sky was already nearing noon, sunlight making the tin roof hum. Zhao Jianguo had just slipped the evidence bag into his toolbox when his wrist jerked violently again.

A red alert popped up: "Historical Correction Force intensity +50%, abnormal Energy Fluctuation originates inside the Siheyuan."

He froze for a moment, then turned his gaze northward—exactly where the Siheyuan lies.

"What's wrong?" Dong Xu noticed him stopping.

"Nothing." Zhao Jianguo closed the box lid, "I just feel that someone's afraid we'll fix the fan, and even more afraid we'll discover who's behind the sabotage."

Chen Jianguo stepped beside him and whispered, "The gold‑rimmed glasses… aren't from this generation."

"What do you mean?"

"It means." Chen Jianguo glanced at him, "Some habits die hard—like the gesture of pushing up one's glasses. I've seen the same person on another timeline—but he should have been dead ten years ago."

Zhao Jianguo didn't respond, just slipped his hand into the toolbox and pulled out that gear set again. The bluish‑gray powder is nearly invisible in the sunlight, but he knows each grain is tied to an unseen thread leading to some eye lurking in the dark.

"Let's head back." he said, "It's time to ask those 'relatives' at home what strange folks they've seen lately."

The three set off on the return path, their steps crunching on the gravel. As they neared the Siheyuan gate, they bumped into Jia Zhangshi coming out with a bowl of medicine; seeing Dong Xu's face, her expression shifted and she turned to go back inside.

"Grandaunt!" Dong Xu called out to her, "I have a distant uncle who was arrested in the southern district—do you know about it?"

Jia Zhangshi's steps halted, but she didn't turn: "Which uncle? I don't know him."

"Surname Jia, tall and thin, the one who often fetches your medicine from the pharmacy."

Her shoulder twitched, and the broth in the bowl sloshed out half a spoonful.

"Oh." She merely acknowledged, then quickened her pace and walked away.

Zhao Jianguo watched her retreating figure, then lowered his gaze to the evidence bag in his hand.

The gear set lay still, a faint bluish‑gray film on its surface, like coal dust blown about by the wind.

He lifted his foot into the courtyard, just bumping into Sha Zhu pushing a steamed Meal Ticket cart.

"Yo, Zhao Gong, solved another case?" Sha Zhu grinned, "Just now Jia Zhangshi was grumbling, saying someone framed her relative for theft."

"Not a frame." Zhao Jianguo raised the evidence bag, "He really took something he shouldn't have."

"He deserved to be caught." Sha Zhu shrugged, "Besides, whose relative gets into trouble doesn't lose face; who can you blame?"

Zhao Jianguo smiled, said no more, and headed straight for the Laboratory.

Jia Dongxu followed behind, asking quietly, "What do we do next?"

"Wait." Zhao Jianguo put the Gear Set into the magnetic-proof cabinet, "Wait for that bespectacled guy to come deliver the message again."

Just as he finished speaking, a burst of children's crying came from outside the window.

Shuang Baotai were causing a ruckus inside.

Zhao Jianguo glanced through the glass, turned and opened the workbench drawer, took out a pencil, and sketched a simple receiver on scrap paper.

The pencil tip paused, and he added a small mark in the lower‑right corner—the outline of a pair of gold‑rimmed glasses.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, drawing nearer.

He lifted his gaze to the doorway, his hand still gripping the pencil.