Chapter 171

Zhao Jianguo sat beside the wooden table in the side room, his fingers still resting on the Cloth Bundle. The dim yellow light of the bulb fell on the table corner, and the few pages of handwritten journal were spread open, the top page recording the night the college entrance exam was reinstated, when three families lit lamps and talked until dawn.

The Special Forces Captain opposite stood up, and a Team Member behind him lifted out a device. Its casing was dark blue, and the front had a circular opening like the speaker of an old radio, but its edge glimmered with a cold light.

"Initiate memory scan protocol," the Special Forces Captain said.

The device hummed, and blue light slowly seeped from the opening, spreading over Zhao Jianguo's face like water.

He didn't move or speak; he simply nudged the Cloth Bundle forward, positioning it right between himself and the device.

"What you're going to delete isn't my memory," he said, "it's the life trajectories of three hundred people."

The Special Forces Captain glanced at him, "Intervening in historical nodes exceeds the safety threshold; partial deletion must be carried out. That's the regulation."

"Regulation?" Zhao Jianguo lowered his head, flipped to the last page of the journal, and pointed to a line, "'Civilization Inheritance Degree reaches 40%' — I didn't write that; it's a System Prompt. Each time a child gets into university, the number rises a bit. Each technological advancement also raises it. Is this chaos? Is this loss of control?"

As soon as he finished speaking, his vision dimmed, and the system displayed a line of text: 【Civilization Inheritance Degree reaches 40%】

Exactly matching the record in the journal.

The Special Forces Captain furrowed his brows; before he could speak, his communicator buzzed. He raised his hand, pressed a button, and his complexion changed.

Zhao Jianguo didn't miss that expression.

The blue light continued crawling forward, already reaching a corner of the Cloth Bundle. He reached into his close-fitting garment pocket, pulled out a badge. It was metal, its edges slightly worn, the surface emitting a faint golden sheen.

He held it up, directly facing the device's sensor area.

"Temporal-Spatial Permission," he said, "left by Chen Jianguo."

The device's humming abruptly stopped.

The blue light retracted.

The badge projected a string of numbers, bouncing in the air a few times before interfacing with the device. The equipment's indicator light shifted from red to green, then went out completely.

The Special Forces Captain stared at the badge for five seconds, then whispered, "This Permission... is genuine."

"I know what you fear," Zhao Jianguo slipped the badge back into his pocket, but his hand remained on it, "you fear me speaking out, you fear others copying me, you fear the timeline getting tangled. But have you considered that some people never had a chance to walk that line? Xu Da Mao stole admission tickets, Jia Zhangshi hid papers in a vat; these things happen daily. No one oversees them. I did, and you turn around to investigate me?"

The Special Forces Captain offered no rebuttal.

"I can accept the deletion of some irrelevant memories," Zhao Jianguo continued, "like the day I ate dumplings, the time I argued with Sha Zhu. But the matters of the college entrance exam Mutual Aid Group cannot be touched. How the real exam question compilation was obtained, how it was divided, who copied the questions, who gave the lectures—those must be retained. They're not just my affairs; they're the path we all forged together."

Footsteps came from outside the house; a Team Member hurried in and whispered a few words into the captain's ear.

The Special Forces Captain straightened his posture, turned to Zhao Jianguo: "In 1978, abnormal Energy Fluctuation was detected, preliminarily judged as a temporal-spatial Virus intrusion. All field units must evacuate immediately and stand by."

"So it's not being investigated?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"Your question is temporarily set aside," the Special Forces Captain said, picking up the document board, "but the Permission doesn't mean you can ignore the rules. This time is an emergency recall; next time won't be so easy."

"Wait until you finish dealing with the 1978 matter, then we can talk," Zhao Jianguo leaned against the chair back, "then I will prove—I'm not a destroyer, I'm a firewall."

The Special Forces Captain glanced at him, said nothing more, and gave a signal to the Team Members.

Several people began packing up the equipment. The one carrying the black box walked back into the house, and Zhao Jianguo immediately shouted, "Don't place the box in the middle of the Main Hall."

The person stopped.

"There are water pipes underneath," Zhao Jianguo said, "the dampness is heavy, prone to short circuits."

The other glanced at the floor and changed position.

Zhao Jianguo kept watching them tidy up until the last Team Member walked out through the Courtyard Gate. He didn't stand up to see them off, nor did he close the door, just sat there, his hand still resting on the Cloth Bundle.

The Courtyard fell silent.

He lowered his head, flipped through the journal until he reached the page with a photo tucked inside. Shuang Baotai were laughing broadly, one little hand gripping a pencil, the other holding a notebook. The back read: First time writing their own name.

He rubbed the photo's corner with his fingertip, hearing the system give a gentle tremor.

Looking up, a new prompt floated in midair: 【Detected external memory interference source, direction: southeast, distance: not locked】

He furrowed his brows, just as he was about to examine it, the prompt vanished.

Footsteps came from outside the door.

It wasn't the rhythm of those earlier people.

He stood up and walked to the doorway.

A man in a gray cloth shirt hurried past the alley entrance, holding something resembling a camera, a bag slung over his shoulder. He moved quickly, didn't look back, turned a corner and disappeared.

Zhao Jianguo stood on the threshold, unmoving.

After a while, he turned back into the house, pulled a wire from the brick gap, bent it twice, inserted it into the storage cabinet lock and twisted twice. Click— the cabinet opened.

He took out an envelope; inside was a slip of paper with messy handwriting: Be careful… golden scar appears, destiny changes.

He stared at the paper for a long time, then slipped it back into the envelope and placed it at the bottom of the Cloth Bundle.

Outside, the wind was a bit strong, making the window paper rustle loudly.

He sat down again, closed the journal, set it beside him. The bulb flickered once; he looked up, then ignored it.

A few minutes later, the system trembled again.

This time a line of text appeared: 【Shuang Baotai life frequency slight fluctuation, duration: 3 seconds, cause: unknown】

He sprang to his feet and hurried toward the north house.

The door curtain was half drawn back; two children lay side by side, sleeping fairly soundly. He crouched, gently lifted the left one's wrist, and examined closely.

The birthmark was still there, its color a shade lighter than usual, but the outline unchanged.

He exhaled, about to lower his sleeve, when the child's finger suddenly moved, gripping his wrist.

The strength was weak, but it was tight.

Zhao Jianguo was stunned.

The child had his eyes closed, lips slightly open, voice very soft: "Dad... time's up."