Chapter 245: Holographic Projection Recreates the Wu·Jia Family Mystery, Finally Revealed

Zhao Jianguo stood at the entrance of the tech‑culture corridor, a freshly retrieved data card clenched in his hand. Sunlight struck the glass door, reflecting a pale white glow. He didn't rush inside; instead he lowered his head to glance at his watch—seven twelve.

Yesterday the robot ran smoothly, and Xu Da Mao finally breathed a sigh of relief. That matter was settled, and it was time to handle another issue that had been delayed too long.

He pushed the door open; the exhibition hall was still empty, with only a few pieces of equipment placed in the center, covered by dust sheets. The one in the middle was a holographic projector, which he had installed himself last night. A wooden box stood against the wall, containing Jia Wu's old work badge, an old pocket watch, and several yellowed photocopies of schematics.

Zhao Jianguo inserted the data card into the mainframe, and the Screen lit up. A System Prompt popped up: "Historical Truth Restoration program is ready; initiate?"

He pressed confirm.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, and Dong Xu entered, wearing his regular Coat and carrying a thermos cup. He glanced around, then turned his gaze to the half‑uncovered machine.

"Is this the… answer you mentioned?"

"Your father's case has never reached a conclusion," Zhao Jianguo said. "Now it can be known."

Dong Xu stood rooted. After a few seconds, he set the thermos cup on the Desk, unbuttoned his Coat. "I always thought he died of illness. No one at the factory said much, and no one at home mentioned it. I asked my mother; she only told me not to pry."

"Now the truth can be seen," Zhao Jianguo said, looking at him. "Do you want to see it?"

Dong Xu stared at the machine and nodded.

Zhao Jianguo pressed the activation button. A slight tremor rippled through the air, and light and shadow began to coalesce. A man in work overalls appeared in the center of the Projection area, back to the two of them, bending over to shove something into a wall opening.

"That's… the boiler room?" Dong Xu's voice lowered.

The scene continued. The man sealed the brick, turned, his face streaked with blood, breathing heavily. He fished a small notebook from his pocket, tore out a page, and scribbled rapidly with a pen. After finishing, he folded the paper, slipped it into his chest pocket, then looked up as if speaking to a direction.

"If anyone sees this footage, remember my name—Jia Wu. This batch of data must not be lost. It concerns the development of the nation's first precision instruments. I've already been targeted; I may not hold out much longer."

Dong Xu stepped forward, his hand bracing the edge of the display platform.

The view shifted. At night, several people burst into the boiler room, flashing flashlights around. Jia Wu stepped out from a corner, spreading his arms to block them. The dialogue was muffled, but he could be seen arguing. One of them raised a hand, and a gun cracked.

Jia Wu fell to the ground, not closing his eyes immediately. He raised his hand, pointing toward the corner, his lips moving slightly.

The projection froze there.

The exhibition hall was so quiet one could hear breathing.

Dong Xu crouched down, his head buried low. His shoulders trembled lightly, his fingers gripping the edge of the display platform tightly. One drop of water fell onto the floor, followed by another.

Zhao Jianguo said nothing, merely placing a cup of warm water on the Desk beside him.

After a few minutes, Dong Xu lifted his head, wiped his face, his voice a little hoarse. "I always thought he was a failure. As a child classmates mocked me, saying my father was a toppled bad element, with no memorial at all. My mother never explained, and I didn't dare ask. Later I threw myself into studying, got into graduate school, just to prove I wasn't like him."

He paused, looking at the frozen figure in the projection. "But he wasn't a wimp. He was a hero."

Zhao Jianguo nodded. "What he protected later became the foundational data for our first self‑developed instruments. Without him, many technologies would have started a decade later."

Dong Xu rose, walked to the projection, extended his hand, his fingertips nearly touching his father within the light. He whispered, "Dad, I'm sorry. I wrongly blamed you."

Zhao Jianguo opened the system interface and retrieved a document. "This is the complete record, including time, location, and participant list. You can save it, or let everyone see it."

Dong Xu shook his head. "I don't want everyone watching. This is between me and my dad."

"But his sacrifice isn't just a family matter," Zhao Jianguo said. "This Courtyard's present state owes to someone who bore the pressure at a critical moment. Your father was the first to safeguard the technology for us. Hiding it is the greatest betrayal to him."

Dong Xu said nothing, his head bowed, looking at the floor.

Zhao Jianguo didn't press him. He knew such matters couldn't be rushed.

The next morning, when Zhao Jianguo returned to the exhibition hall, he found the layout altered. The display cases had been rearranged, leaving a circular area in the center—the spot of the holographic projection. Photos and captions hung on the surrounding walls, the most prominent being Jia Wu's work photo, captioned: "Jia Wu, codename 'Guardian of the Maps', winter night of 1968, sacrificed to protect the nation's technical data."

At the entrance a touch screen had been added, its title reading: "A Common Worker's Choice."

Zhao Jianguo tapped the screen, typing the two characters "father." A speaker emitted a restored recording: "I am Jia Wu. If you're hearing this, it means someone still remembers. I seek no fame, only hope those things can be useful. Look for me—have they changed at all?"

Zhao Jianguo turned back and saw Dong Xu standing at the doorway.

"Do you agree to exhibit it?"

"I've come to terms," Dong Xu said, walking in, approaching the main display case, and brushing the glass. "He didn't do it to be remembered. But he deserves remembrance. I'm no longer afraid of others knowing who he was."

He turned to Zhao Jianguo. "From now on this place shall be called the Siheyuan Museum. The first exhibit is him."

Zhao Jianguo smiled faintly. "Very good."

At nine o'clock that morning, the exhibition hall opened officially. The first visitors were a few longtime residents, and San Daye was also present. After viewing the exhibit, he stood in the Projection area for a while, then tipped his hat and gently patted Dong Xu's shoulder.

"Your father was a tough man." He said that and left.

Others arrived in succession, speaking little, but watching intently.

Before noon, Dong Xu handed a backup document to the archives, requesting permanent preservation. He also submitted a proposal to establish "Technology Guardian Day," with commemorative events held each winter solstice.

Zhao Jianguo received a System Prompt: 【Historical Truth Restoration Technique unlocked; any historical segment can be traced back with 95% fidelity】

He closed the interface and walked out of the exhibition hall.

At three p. m., Dong Xu returned alone; the exhibition hall was already empty. He stood before the display case, watching silently for a long time. Then he reached out, gently brushing the glass as if caressing a person's face.

"Dad, what you didn't finish, I'll continue."

He turned to leave, when a faint sound suddenly came from behind.

The projection activated automatically.

Jia Wu, bathed in light and shadow, stood there still in his work overalls, a hint of fatigue on his face but steady eyes. He scanned the surroundings, as if sensing something, then slowly raised his hand in a salute.

Dong Xu was stunned.

He walked back slowly, stood opposite the projection, and also raised his right hand.

The two, separated by twenty years of time, in the silent exhibition hall, completed their first—and final—salute.