Chapter 214

Zhao Jianguo stared at his phone screen; the flow of that overseas fund was like a thorn stuck in his heart. He was just about to dig deeper when his wrist trembled and the System Prompt popped up: "Detected major social node approaching, check-in reward issued——Cross-era Communicator."

He lowered his head and felt the inner pocket of his work clothes; inside was a hard object, not heavy, but it steadied his heart a bit.

Footsteps sounded at the courtyard gate; the neighborhood leader arrived with people, followed by a uniformed Special Forces Captain, his face as grim as a wall brick.

"Comrade Zhao Jianguo!" the neighborhood leader laughed, extending his hand, "Today is a good day, our Siheyuan has officially been designated a Technology Demonstration Point!"

Zhao Jianguo stepped forward to shake hands, smiling on his face but not relaxing inside. He knew, the livelier the occasion, the easier it is to hide a needle.

The banner was already hung, red background with yellow characters: "Civilian Science and Technology Innovation Demonstration Point". San Daye and others stood around; Sha Zhu was originally there too, but He Yushui pulled him to the kitchen to help greet guests, so he didn't appear again.

The leader stood on the makeshift small table and began reading the approval document. Zhao Jianguo listened, his gaze fixed on the Special Forces Captain. The man remained expressionless, hands in his pockets, eyes constantly scanning, especially the laboratory door, which he glanced at several times.

The unveiling ceremony ended, the red silk fell to the ground, and applause rang out for a while.

The crowd hadn't dispersed yet when the Special Forces Captain suddenly approached, speaking low: "Your recent equipment list doesn't include this." He pointed at Zhao Jianguo's chest.

Zhao Jianguo knew he couldn't hide it. He slowly pulled the communicator from his inner pocket. Its metal shell resembled an old radio and walkie-talkie fused together, with a small screen on the front and a line engraved on the side: 1985 Science and Research Collaboration Network.

The onlookers fell silent immediately.

"What is this?" the neighborhood leader also stepped closer.

"Cross-era communicator." Zhao Jianguo pressed the switch.

The screen lit up, the image flickered, and a man in a white lab coat appeared, sitting at a desk writing something. The background was an old-style laboratory, with circuit diagrams on the wall, an oscilloscope on the desk, and a handwritten notebook.

"Engineer Chen." Zhao Jianguo said, "The unveiling went smoothly, and the public response was good."

The man in the image raised his head, nodded: "Received, data has been synchronized and archived." The voice was clear, no noise, even the sound of turning pages could be heard.

The entire place fell silent as if no birds or sparrows.

The neighborhood leader widened his eyes: "This… this is a live broadcast?"

"Yes." Zhao Jianguo said, "We've built an encrypted frequency band; as long as you connect, you can talk in real time, unrestricted by distance."

"And his side is……"

"1985." Zhao Jianguo said, "This is Engineer Chen Jianguo, who participated in the national key project back then; what we are doing now is technological inheritance collaboration."

The Special Forces Captain frowned: "This equipment is not in the national registry; according to regulations, it should be reported before use."

Zhao Jianguo remained calm: "You're right. But we are using the civilian research collaboration channel; all transmitted content undergoes triple encryption and is limited to internal technical exchange. If you need, I can pull up the communication logs and security protocols on the spot."

After he spoke, he slid his finger on the side, and a stream of code instantly popped up on the screen, along with a timestamp and verification signature.

The Special Forces Captain didn't respond, his gaze still wary.

The neighborhood leader glanced at Chen Jianguo in the image, then at Zhao Jianguo, and suddenly smiled: "You're not up to any shady business; you're actually getting things done."

He turned to the Special Forces Captain and said, "Registration is fine, but don't shut it down. Special talents deserve special treatment; otherwise, how can they innovate?"

The Special Forces Captain moved his lips, then nodded: "After registration, continuous monitoring."

"Okay." Zhao Jianguo put the communicator back in his pocket, "I'll cooperate anytime."

The crowd gradually dispersed, some discussing, some taking photos, and some running to the laboratory door to peek, wanting to see what other curiosities lay inside.

Zhao Jianguo stood where he was, motionless.

The System Prompt vibrated again:

【Policy Interpretation Expertise Unlocked】

In an instant, his mind filled with something—not memory, but more like structured knowledge blocks—the approval process for 1980s tech projects, standards for classifying sensitive technology, key points for civilian R&D registration… crystal clear, like flipping through a book.

He understood; next time he faced such scrutiny, he wouldn't need to rely on luck—he could find the proper response.

Before leaving, the neighborhood leader patted his shoulder: "Keep up the good work; the higher-ups will pay attention to your progress."

The Special Forces Captain was the last to leave; as he exited, he glanced back once, his eyes complex.

Zhao Jianguo did not avoid him.

After everyone had left, he then turned and walked toward the laboratory.

As the door opened, Dong Xu was hunched over the operation console drawing, head not lifted: "You're finally back; I'm almost done with the renovation plan for the B-area sealed storage— the HEPA system needs two extra filtration stages, otherwise it won't meet the Class 100 cleanliness requirement."

"Hard work." Zhao Jianguo walked to the control console and sat down, "Is the printer still running?"

"Not stopped." Dong Xu rubbed his eyes, "The first batch of wafer frames is already one-third done, temperature control is stable, using the heat dissipation model you improved last time."

Zhao Jianguo nodded, tapped a few keys on the keyboard, and pulled up the backend log.

Everything normal.

But he knew that although the demonstration had earned temporary recognition, it also made the target more conspicuous.

He touched the communicator in his pocket, suddenly thinking of a question—why did Engineer Chen Jianguo appear in a 1985 laboratory? That era simply didn't have this communication technology.

Unless…

"Dong Xu." He suddenly asked, "You say, if our signal can be sent back, could their information possibly have already been transmitted to the future?"

Dong Xu froze: "You mean… what we're doing now might actually be… them sending it back?"

The two locked eyes, neither speaking further.

Just then, the System Prompt sounded:

【Abnormal Signal Feedback Detected】

【Source: Unidentified Frequency Band】

【Recommend Immediately Switch to Offline Mode】

Zhao Jianguo immediately acted, cutting the external network interface, moving the main server into closed operation.

"Something's off." He said quietly, "Could it be that during the demonstration just now… we attracted something?"

Dong Xu stared at the waveform on the screen: "The signal residue shows delayed feedback, as if… someone is listening on the other end."

"Not Engineer Chen." Zhao Jianguo shook his head, "His communication pattern is very stable; this time's fluctuation frequency is different, more chaotic, like… multiple people accessing simultaneously."

Outside, the sky gradually darkened, and the courtyard grew quiet.

Zhao Jianguo rose and walked to the window, gazing as distant streetlights lit up one by one.

He was about to speak when the communicator suddenly vibrated on its own.

The screen lit up automatically.

No incoming call notification, nor any connection request.

The image appeared directly.

Still that laboratory.

But this time, Chen Jianguo wasn't there.

The chair was empty.

The handwritten report on the desk opened, and the last page bore a line of text:

"Don't trust orders from the future."

Zhao Jianguo's pupils constricted.

He reached to shut it down, but the screen flickered and new text appeared:

"They've already begun tampering with the timeline."

"Find the true source."

"Otherwise everything will disappear."

The handwriting was messy, as if written in haste.

The next second, the image cut out.

The communicator returned to a black screen.

Zhao Jianguo gripped it, palms sweating.

Jia Dongxu walked over: "Just now that was..."

"It's not one of us." Zhao Jianguo said in a low voice, "Someone is impersonating the signal source."

"What do we do?"

Zhao Jianguo put the communicator in the drawer and locked it.

Then he opened the lowest encrypted partition of the control console and entered a string of passwords.

"From now on, all cross‑spacetime communications must undergo double verification." He said, "I need to know the true identity of every connection."

Jia Dongxu nodded: "Should we notify the street?"

"Not possible." Zhao Jianguo shook his head, "We don't even know who's monitoring now; if the information leaks, the consequences are immeasurable."

He stood up and walked to the printer.

The machine was still working, a faint humming continued.

He placed his hand on the casing.

Still warm.

Not hot, but it kept heating up.

Like some kind of warning.

"We thought we were demonstrating technology." He said softly, "But… we might already have been targeted."

Jia Dongxu looked at him: "What do we do next?"

Zhao Jianguo didn't answer.

He stared blankly at the printer.

Three minutes later, he picked up the toolbox and pulled out a screwdriver.

He crouched, opened the bottom protective plate.

Revealing the circuit board inside.

A nondescript black crystal was set in the corner, unmarked.

He gently gripped it with tweezers, preparing to remove it for inspection.

As his fingertip touched the crystal's edge, the whole board flashed blue.

The screwdriver was flicked away.

Zhao Jianguo jerked his hand back.

Looking again at the crystal, its surface had split in a fine crack, as if… it had been remotely burned out.