Chapter 178: Red Alert on Christmas Eve

Zhao Jianguo stood under the eaves, the rain hadn't fully stopped. He saw Chen Xiao Jian crouching in a corner, holding a part of the detector, using pliers to tighten a screw. The Electric Wire had broken before, now it was reconnected, the casing still a bit wet.

He was about to walk over and say something when his chest suddenly jolted. Not his heartbeat, but the thing hidden close to him—the System Terminal flared up, like a red‑hot iron sheet pressing against his ribs.

He lowered his head, pulled back his collar and glanced; the Screen lit up, a blaze of red.

"Space‑time virus intrusion detected! Concentration rising rapidly!"

The words popped up line after line, silent, but Zhao Jianguo felt his ears buzz.

He turned and rushed into the house.

The door was not tightly closed; light from an Oil Lamp seeped through the gap. The Shuang Baotai lay on the bed, heads touching, He Yushui sat beside them, softly reading an old picture book. The story was halfway, about rabbits planting radishes.

Zhao Jianguo stepped inside, said nothing, and immediately lifted the two children. The motion was so fast that He Yushui startled, and the picture book fell onto the kang.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't make a sound." He said and walked out.

He Yushui froze, opened her mouth, then closed it again. She had known Zhao Jianguo for so long, yet had never seen him like this. Her eyes stared at the doorway, as if she could see through the wall.

Zhao Jianguo carried the children across the Courtyard, his steps steady. The wind stopped, raindrops hung in mid‑air, but he hadn't activated any defense; his intuition told him—there was no time to wait.

Jia Dongxu burst out of the Laboratory, clutching the modified detector. The iron‑clad box had a soldered antenna, the needle swung wildly, almost completing a full circle.

"Arrived?" Zhao Jianguo asked.

"From more than one direction." Jia Dongxu panted, "The signal came from the Hutongkou; someone's handing out flyers."

"Flyers?"

"Printed with 'New Era Wealth Opportunities', saying something about 'Future Business Models'." Jia Dongxu frowned, "A few old men on the street grabbed them, and asked where to sign up."

Zhao Jianguo's gaze darkened.

He handed the Shuang Baotai to Jia Dongxu: "Take them inside, lock the doors and windows, don't turn on the lights."

"What about you?"

"I'll go check."

"Are you crazy? Going out now?"

"Not going out." Zhao Jianguo stepped back a few paces, stood in the center of the Courtyard, "Just to keep them from getting in."

Jia Dongxu wanted to speak, but Zhao Jianguo had already closed his eyes.

In his mind, he summoned the System interface. The menu was extensive; areas normally view‑only now glowed with dark‑red borders.

"Ultimate Defense Mode" floated at the top.

Below, small print: Freeze time flow within a one‑kilometre radius, duration dependent on energy reserves.

He recalled that this function had been locked before. Now it was available, indicating the situation was more serious than expected.

He didn't hesitate, silently chanting, "Activate."

In an instant, the world changed.

Not black, not still, but every motion halted.

Raindrops under the eaves hovered thirty centimetres above the ground, crystal clear. A moth swooped toward the Oil Lamp, wings half‑spread, then froze. A corner of clothing hanging in the neighboring Courtyard, lifted by wind, also stiffened.

At the Hutongkou, three men in suits stood. The one in the middle held up one hand, from which several sheets of paper fluttered. The flyers drifted halfway, as if nailed in place.

One of the elderly men reached out to catch, his fingers two centimetres from the paper, motion halted.

Zhao Jianguo could still move.

He took a few steps forward, stepping on the water‑logged bluestone slabs; splashes solidified at the edge of his shoe soles.

He arrived at the Hutongkou, staring at the flyer‑hander.

The face was familiar.

The eyes drooped, nose slightly crooked, smile began with the left corner of the mouth lifting—just like Xu Da Mao's.

But he was not Xu Da Mao.

Younger, well‑dressed, the suit fabric reflected. A metal‑cased watch on his left wrist bore a few engraved characters.

Zhao Jianguo leaned in to read.

"Machinery Bureau, Shanghai."

He stepped back, a cold sneer in his mind.

Same routine. Change the person, change the shell, think no one will recognize?

He turned and walked toward the Siheyuan, each step treading the frozen time.

Inside, Jia Dongxu held the Shuang Baotai behind a window. They couldn't see what was happening outside, but sensed something was wrong. The air was too quiet; even breathing sounded as if sucked away.

Zhao Jianguo reached the doorway, looked up at the Laboratory's window. The detector was still running; the waveform on the Screen had stopped at its peak, no longer jumping.

He knew this was only the beginning.

These people wouldn't come just once. The flyers were only the first step; next would be lectures, classes, recruiting, pushing "progress" as a banner to stuff ideas into minds.

He could not let this happen.

He entered the heart of the Courtyard, stopped, reached into his pocket, and felt the iron box.

The Cross-Time-Space Broadcaster was still there.

He didn't open it, just confirmed its presence.

Then he looked toward the far end of the Hutong.

There lay a bicycle overturned, its basket packed with identical flyers. One had been lifted slightly by wind, revealing the back text: "Join us, reshape the era's value system."

Zhao Jianguo walked over, bent, and pulled out that sheet.

The paper was smooth, unlike anything current paper mills could produce. Ink marks were clear, layout tidy, even the creases matched.

He tore the paper.

Piece by piece, he tossed them into the air. The fragments hovered there, like suspended snowflakes.

He returned to the courtyard and stood in front of Jia Dongxu.

"How is it?" Jia Dongxu asked.

"Temporarily under control." Zhao Jianguo said softly, "But they've already come."

"Who?"

"Things wearing human skin." He paused, "They specialize in coming at times like this. On Christmas Eve, when families gather, it's easiest to let down guard."

Jia Dongxu lowered his head to look at the child in his arms. The twins closed their eyes, sleeping deeply, but their breathing rate was a bit fast, as if they were dreaming.

"Will they wake up?"

"I don't know." Zhao Jianguo shook his head, "But for now they are safe."

"How long can you hold out?"

"Unclear. The system didn't give remaining time." He looked up at the sky, "All I know is that as long as I keep moving, this place won't fall into chaos."

Jia Dongxu fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "Have you ever wondered why they chose today?"

"Because no one is on guard today." Zhao Jianguo looked at the man in the suit in the distance, "Everyone is busy celebrating; hearing a new term makes them think it's good. A sheet of paper, a few words, and people will follow along."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"First, clear these people out." Zhao Jianguo stepped forward, "Then investigate clearly how they got in."

He walked up to the first man in a suit and reached into his pocket.

The left pocket was empty, the right pocket held a small booklet. The cover read "Future Business White Paper," with a QR code printed below—such a square pattern simply doesn't exist now.

He pulled out the booklet and tore it in front of the man's face.

The second person had a recorder, its button half-pressed, playing a passage: "……Decentralized economic model will completely transform production relations……"

Zhao Jianguo pressed the stop button and threw the machine to the ground.

The third man was the youngest, smiling, holding a pen whose cap was engraved "Innovation Summit Exclusive."

Zhao Jianguo stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist.

The sleeve slid up a bit, exposing a strip of skin.

There was a mark there.

It was tiny, hidden beneath the hair, like a numeric code.

He released his grip and stepped back.

Sure enough, they came in batches.

They weren't real people, but carriers. Loaded with future concepts, they were sent to this era to spread.

He turned and walked back.

He had just taken a step when his peripheral vision caught something odd.

The youngest man in the suit twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Not a smile, but a spasm.

Zhao Jianguo stopped immediately.

He walked back over and examined that face closely.

Under the eyelids, the eyeballs were moving.

Though time was frozen, his consciousness was still moving.

Zhao Jianguo felt a sudden tightness in his chest.

He quickly pulled out the broadcaster and switched to monitoring mode.

Low-frequency noise came through the earpiece, mixed with intermittent sounds:

"……Node established……transmission rate thirty-one percent……awaiting orders……"

He yanked off the earpiece, his face changing color.

These people weren't just handing out flyers; they were building a network. Like a virus infecting a cell, they first plant the information, then activate it automatically upon thawing.

He rushed back to the courtyard and told Jia Dongxu, "Prepare an emergency plan. Once these people wake, they'll act immediately; we must get ahead of them."

"How do we get ahead?"

"Find everyone who came into contact with the flyers." Zhao Jianguo said firmly, "Not a single one can be missed."

Jia Dongxu nodded, about to move, when suddenly he heard a rustling from inside the house.

It was the twins.

One of them rolled over, uttering muffled syllables.

Zhao Jianguo immediately entered the room and crouched beside the bed.

The child's brow furrowed, lips twitching as if trying to speak but unable to make a sound.

He reached out to touch the forehead—not hot, but the pulse was a bit irregular.

Outside, time remained still.

Raindrops hung in the air, the wind had ceased, and the whole world seemed paused.

Zhao Jianguo sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the child's shoulder.

He knew this battle had only just begun.

He also knew he could not fall.

The next second, he heard an extremely faint click from outside the courtyard.

Like a watch hand jumping.

He suddenly lifted his head, gazing toward the hutong entrance.

The man wearing the "Shanghai Machinery Bureau" watch, his finger bent slightly.