Chapter 120: First-Year Shock: The Secret of the Camphor Chest

When the pencil traced the outline of the golden‑thread glasses on the paper, the crying outside the window suddenly stopped.

Zhao Jianguo looked up and saw Su Qing carrying Shuang Baotai out of the Main Hall, frowning: "Just coaxed them to sleep, what are you drawing now? Like a ghost‑drawing talisman."

"Nothing, just jotting something down." He folded the paper a couple of times, slipped it into his trouser pocket, and got up to the Kitchen to pour water.

Jia Dongxu crouched in a corner of the Main Hall, checking the Toolbox, muttering: "That Gear Set can really produce golden‑thread glasses? I find it doubtful. That person said it was running errands for Jia Zhangshi, but she avoided me just now and wouldn't even say another word."

"She hides because she's guilty," Zhao Jianguo said, taking a sip of water. "People can feign composure; their footsteps don't lie. Her hand that was serving the medicine is trembling, the bowl is almost slipping from her grasp."

Su Qing sat at the table, gently patting the child in her arms: "Don't argue about this in front of the kids. Today is their full first year, at least we want good luck."

Zhao Jianguo glanced at the wall calendar; indeed, the date had already turned to October 7. He said nothing, simply slipped the pencil on the table back into the drawer.

Just after noon, the Courtyard became lively. Sha Zhu pushed a steamed‑rice cart over, its top covered with a white cloth, and beneath were plates of dishes. "Shuang Baotai's birthday, I specially added two substantial dishes—braised Lion's Head and sweet‑and‑sour crispy fish! If others wanted them, I'd be too lazy to make them!"

"Your cooking skills never lose," Zhao Jianguo said with a smile, taking the plate. "Later I'll have Dong Xu write a plaque for you that says 'Siheyuan's First Kitchen God.'"

"That won't do," Sha Zhu waved his hand. "If I hang that plaque, Xu Da Mao would definitely say I'm stealing his limelight."

Laughter rang out from the house, and the atmosphere instantly relaxed.

Su Qing placed a small table in the middle of the Main Hall, on which lay several little items: an old book, a spoon, a wooden carving of a little horse, and a gleaming copper bell. This is the old custom, letting the child partake in the Zhou‑grabbing ritual, to see which path they will follow.

"Let them grab whatever they like, don't stare, it'll frighten the child," Su Qing said softly.

Shuang Baotai were placed on a small blanket, one kicking its little legs vigorously. The elder one crawled over first, grabbed the copper bell in one hand, shaking it with a tinkling sound. The younger one, a beat slower, reached out and knocked the old book over.

"Yo! One loves the sound, the other loves reading!" Sha Zhu laughed, slapping his thigh. "In the future, one will be a troupe drummer, the other a university professor!"

Jia Dongxu leaned in to look; the book cover was already frayed to the point of fuzz, and when he opened a page, it was densely filled with characters, along with a few yellowed illustrations.

"Isn't this 'Mechanical Principle Lesson Intro'?" he blurted, "Whose family would bring such a book for a child's Zhou ceremony?"

"It wasn't me who placed it," Zhao Jianguo shook his head. "When I was tidying the house this morning, the book wasn't there."

"It couldn't be…" Jia Dongxu's voice lowered, "Someone slipped it in while we were away?"

The two exchanged a glance and said nothing further.

At that moment, the old camphor wood chest against the wall suddenly went "ka" and its lid cracked open a slit.

Everyone was stunned.

That chest had been left by the deaf old lady, untouched for decades. The wood was as heavy as iron, the lock rusted solidly, and even mice never burrowed there.

"What's going on?" Sha Zhu stepped back half a pace, "It opened by itself?"

"Don't talk nonsense," Su Qing quickly lifted the child, "It could be the wind."

"There's no wind today," Jia Dongxu walked over, crouched, and carefully lifted the chest lid.

Inside were neatly stacked several old garments, with a kraft‑paper envelope on top, its corners already blackened. The envelope bore three characters: "Jia Wu personally opened."

Zhao Jianguo's heart leapt.

Jia Wu was Jia Dongxu's father, an old craftsman who died of illness ten years ago.

He reached for the envelope; his fingertips felt a chill. The paper was as dry as Withered Leaf, tearing with a slight pull.

"May I take a look?" Jia Dongxu's voice trembled a bit.

Zhao Jianguo nodded, handing the envelope to him.

Jia Dongxu's movements in opening it were slow, as if fearing to awaken something. Inside was only a photograph, its edges curled, the color brownish.

He recognized it at a glance.

"My dad…" his throat tightened, "The background is an old building on the Shanghai Bund… but he never went to Shanghai."

In the photo, Jia Wu wore a crisp Zhongshan suit, standing before a Western‑style building, beside him a man in a bowler hat holding a briefcase. The two stood close, as if acquaintances. On the back of the photo, a steel‑pen wrote a line of small characters:

"Autumn 1953, parting in Shanghai, may you travel cautiously."

Zhao Jianguo took the photo and immediately activated the sign‑in system.

An invisible scanning wave swept over the paper.

【Detection complete: Shooting time confirmed as October 5, 1953; location: Former French Concession No. 27 Intelligence Liaison Station. Cross‑checking character identities…】

【Target 2: Foreign espionage group "North Wind" member, codename "Grey Crow", captured and executed in 1954.】

【Warning: Historical Correction Force has begun interfering with the current timeline; there is a risk of altering critical nodes.】

Immediately after, the system interface flickered, displaying an anonymous tip:

【"Time Anchor Stabilizer" signal activated; a replacement transaction must be completed within seven days, or a regional memory‑wipe protocol will be triggered.】

Zhao Jianguo's fingers paused.

He knew the device—a gadget that can temporarily lock spatiotemporal coordinates, theoretically preventing some people from being "erased from history". Yet he had never seen the actual object.

"What's wrong?" Jia Dongxu noticed his pallor.

"Your dad back then… did he often travel on business trips?"

"Well, the factory sent him out of town to commission equipment; the longest stint was three months," Jia Dongxu stared at the photo, "but he never mentioned meeting that man… never said he had a mission in Shanghai."

"Maybe he didn't know what he was carrying out," Zhao Jianguo whispered.

Su Qing, holding the child, stood at the doorway, not entering, but gently closed the door. She didn't understand this, but she knew some things could no longer be heard by outsiders.

"This chest… how could it open by itself?" Sha Zhu was still pondering the matter.

Zhao Jianguo turned back to look at the camphor wood chest, and suddenly noticed several fine scratches on the inner bottom wall, as if etched with a needle. He leaned in; the marks were oddly arranged, varying in length.

He pulled out a pocket knife, gently scraped away a layer of dust, revealing the clear engravings beneath.

"This is… Morse code?" Jia Dongxu also saw, "Hold on, let me translate."

He consulted the Symbols table in his memory, and slowly read aloud:

"One dash, two dots, three dashes… one dot, one dash, one dot…"

"What does it mean?" Sha Zhu was completely baffled.

"1953.10.07," Jia Dongxu's voice tightened, "the token has been buried."

Zhao Jianguo jerked his head up.

Today is the 40th anniversary of October 7, 1953.

The twins are a full year old, also on this day.

"It's not a coincidence," he said, "someone is using the children's cries, this book, and this box to send us a message."

"Who?" Jia Dongxu asked.

"The person who wanted to hide something more than forty years ago," Zhao Jianguo tucked away the photo, "or perhaps the one who wanted these things to be discovered."

The house fell silent for a moment.

Sha Zhu rubbed his arms: "Why do I feel a chill at the back of my neck? Should I leave first? The Meal Ticket cart still has to go back to clean the pot."

"You can go," Zhao Jianguo didn't stop him, "don't mention today's matter to anyone."

When Sha Zhu left, Zhao Jianguo immediately locked the Courtyard Gate and pulled Jia Dongxu into the Laboratory.

"Can the system locate the 'Temporal Anchor Stabilizer'?" Jia Dongxu asked.

"It can't pinpoint directly, but it can track signal remnants," Zhao Jianguo opened the Terminal, "Since the other side dares to send a transaction cue, it shows they also need some medium to maintain the link. As long as we tap into the shared network, we have a chance to capture it in reverse."

"What if this is a trap?"

"Then let it trap us," Zhao Jianguo hit the Enter key, "Anyway, we can't pretend we know nothing now."

The Screen lit up, and the Data Stream began to scroll.

Suddenly, an audio file loaded automatically.

It was a recording, noisy but a sentence could be heard clearly:

"…If future generations see this image, do not seek me. I am no longer myself, and home is no longer home. I only wish the flame remains unextinguished."

The voice was hoarse, yet carried a hint of a familiar tone.

Jia Dongxu shivered all over: "This… this is my father's voice! But this recording… is at least twenty years old!"

Zhao Jianguo stared at the Waveform Diagram and noticed that the beginning of the recording was mixed with a faint infant cry.

It matched almost exactly the frequency of the twins' cries today.

"I see," he murmured, "The box didn't open by itself. The child's voice triggered some voice‑activated mechanism."

"What do we do now?" Jia Dongxu clenched his fist, "What exactly did my father do? And what is that 'token'?"

Zhao Jianguo gave no answer, but opened the Toolbox and took a small iron box from a compartment. Inside was a micro Crystal marked with the numbers **7-19-53**.

That is the date he crossed over.

He inserted the Crystal into the Terminal.

The system interface refreshed instantly:

【High Permission key detected, initiate "Traceback Protocol"?】

The cursor flickered between "Yes" and "No".

Zhao Jianguo reached out, about to click.

From outside the door, Su Qing's voice called, "Jianguo, the child is crying again, this time so fiercely it's as if frightened."

He halted his hand, turned to Jia Dongxu: "You go watch the child, don't let them get near that box."

"What about you?"

"I have to figure it out," Zhao Jianguo said, staring at the Screen, "Who, forty years ago, was waiting for us to press this button today."

His finger slowly moved toward the confirm key.

The Laboratory lights flickered briefly.

On the Terminal Screen, the final line of text appeared:

"Connection established, the other side is connecting."