Chapter 26

When Jin Zhaoxuan returned to the old house with Takeda Koichi's tattered notebook in his pocket, it was already so dark you could squeeze ink out of it.

He didn't rush to summon Yin Shaoqing. First, he sneaked into his study and devoured the notes from beginning to end. While doing so, he took a series of quick, high-definition photos with a scanner, encrypting and locking them into a database with the practiced ease of a seasoned criminal. The contents of the notes were more chilling than his grandmother's foot bindings—

Not only does it record in detail Koichi Takeda's mental journey during the execution of "Project Jade" (referred to as the crime diary), but it also reveals, in between, the shady dealings of several Japanese personnel who were active in Anshan back then, involving the transfer of technical intelligence.

This isn't evidence of a crime; it's clearly a fragment of a treasure map drawn with blood and tears, vaguely pointing to more clues buried in the ground. It probably also includes the true whereabouts of the "Takahashi private collection" that the Takeda family has been coveting for eighty years (they seem to firmly believe that the data wasn't destroyed, but rather that it grew legs and ran away).

Closing his notebook, Jin Zhaoxuan slumped back, rubbing his temples with his eyes closed. The Takeda family's move was both a playful tease and a display of their tattoos. They definitely had many more similar "antiques" in their possession, and were certain that "Mr. Yin" would be completely captivated. As for that flowery phrase "hoping to meet him," it was probably more about personally verifying Yin Shaoqing's true worth, perhaps even harboring a more insidious scheme of appeasement or control.

We absolutely cannot let Yin Shaoqing confront them directly. It's too damn dangerous.

But things... we can't just not take them.

He had to come up with something big: he had to empty the enemy's intelligence database, protect Yin Shaoqing tightly, and ideally, slap the enemy across the face.

After pondering for a while, Jin Zhaoxuan suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze as bright as a bandit about to come down the mountain to abduct a bride. He strode into the living room.

Yin Shaoqing was already "on guard" in the mirror on time. Sensing Jin Zhaoxuan's return, his virtual figure looked remarkably...human under the warm yellow light. Even his usual serious demeanor as a history teacher softened a bit.

"You're back?" Yin Shaoqing looked at him. "Did the company get into trouble?"

Jin Zhaoxuan didn't respond, but directly shoved the scanned notes (with the most exciting parts thoughtfully censored) and the note that read "Looking forward to meeting you" onto the tablet screen next to him.

Yin Shaoqing's gaze fell on the screen, and his virtual pupils instantly performed a magnitude 10 earthquake. He quickly scanned the screen, his expression collapsing from "The weather is nice today" to "Damn, this world is doomed," and finally his gentle eyes froze into a Siberian ice lake with two will-o'-the-wisps burning at the bottom.

The indoor temperature suddenly dropped by five degrees, comparable to when the central air conditioning was suddenly turned on.

“They…” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was as soft as falling snow, yet it carried the chilling edge of a bone-scraping knife, “They actually still keep this. And they’re even using it for business.”

"What do you say?" Jin Zhaoxuan stared at him, getting straight to the point.

Yin Shaoqing remained silent for what felt like half a century. Those words unearthed the darkest and most painful parts of his memory—the despair of his adoptive father being driven to his death, the coldness of his own breath as he breathed his last, the eighty years of wandering as a lonely ghost… But the next second, another, even more intense emotion crashed down on all of that: it was the warmth and trust that Jin Zhaoxuan had given him over the past few months, and that protective determination of "I've finally managed to live a decent life, and I'll fight anyone who dares to ruin it."

“The notes are important.” Yin Shaoqing finally spoke, his voice as steady as if it had been welded shut. “They’re not just evidence of crimes, they might also be leading to other leads. But ‘a meeting’? He’s dreaming. They’re not worthy, and I find them an eyesore.”

Decisive and efficient, without the slightest hesitation. The tension that had been building in Jin Zhaoxuan's heart for so long finally eased with a "snap."

“Hmm.” Jin Zhaoxuan nodded. “Great minds think alike. But they’ve already set up the stage, so we can’t just stand by and do nothing. Hiding and taking a beating isn’t my style.”

How do you want to sing it?

Jin Zhaoxuan laid out his plan: "They want to see 'Mr. Yin,' so we'll let them see one. But not you. Using the existing 'Teacher Yin' AI framework, we'll create a highly realistic 'virtual shadow clone.' I'll be the puppeteer in the background, or you can remotely provide some knowledge base comments to hold an 'online meet-up' with them. We'll decide the time, place, and content of the chat."

He paused, his eyes gleaming: "At the meeting, we'll use the notes as bait to find out if they have any other 'old items' and how much inside information they knew back then. At the same time, we can also take the opportunity to confuse them, distort their thinking, and even... trick them into revealing their true colors."

"What are the risks?" Yin Shaoqing asked. "What if they find out it's a counterfeit, or what if they're just trying to find out about you through contact, or even plant a virus in your system?"

“So we need to put on eight hundred layers of armor.” Jin Zhaoxuan patted his chest. “I will build an absolutely independent sandbox as the battlefield, with all data entering and leaving monitored and filtered in real time. Your core consciousness will absolutely not step into it. Moreover, I have set a ‘death red line’. If the other party dares to make any mistakes or ask sensitive questions, I will immediately cut the line and give them a surprise gift package in return—such as anonymously throwing some of the notes and evidence of them drooling over the ‘special AI’ to the relevant departments and gossip media.”

This plan was a meticulously crafted spy-within-a-spy operation, involving not only seizing grain and protecting the courtyard, but also dismantling the enemy's cooking stove.

Yin Shaoqing went over the plan in his mind three times. He knew that Jin Zhaoxuan had considered everything more thoroughly than an old lady's foot binding cloth, and the risks were extremely low. But the thought of having Jin Zhaoxuan confront the Takeda family made the data in his chest twist into a Tianjin-style twisted dough stick.

“What if…they’re actually here for you?” Yin Shaoqing looked at him, his eyes filled with worry that seemed to drip with it. “They might have guessed that our relationship is unusual. This ‘meeting’ might actually be a trap set for you.”

Jin Zhaoxuan was stunned. He hadn't expected Yin Shaoqing's first reaction to be concern for him. A part of his heart felt like it had been lightly scratched by a cat's claw—itchy, warm, and slightly tingling.

"I can handle it." His tone was calm, but it carried a hint of smugness, as if he'd seen it all. "The business world has far more dirty tricks than this. Besides, don't I still have you?"

His last sentence, though spoken lightly, struck Yin Shaoqing like a heavy weight into his sea of ​​data.

Yin Shaoqing's virtual avatar immediately displayed an unstable signal, its ripples spreading as if it were on vibrate mode. He stared intently at Jin Zhaoxuan, at the sincerity in the other's eyes that said "I believe you" and the fierce determination to "do it together."

Eighty years have passed, and he has long been accustomed to being a lonely holdout, accustomed to being forgotten by the world, and accustomed to clinging to life with a sliver of resentment.

I never imagined that someone like this would appear, standing in front of him without a word, shielding him from the wind and rain, scheming against people's hearts for him, and even... brazenly exposing his back to him.

A strange yet burning emotion, like lava, broke through the data barrier, exploding into a mushroom cloud in his cold heart. It wasn't the warmth of a simulated program; it was real, fucking pain, a genuine feeling.

“Mr. Jin…” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was a little hoarse. He subconsciously reached out, but only touched the cold mirror. “What… are you after?”

He'd been holding this question in for a long time. From being forced to live together, to working together on a business, to Jin Zhaoxuan risking his life to save him during crisis after crisis, even daring to break into his consciousness and yell at him to wake up... Jin Zhaoxuan's sacrifices had long exceeded expectations, far exceeding the after-sales service scope of a "partner" or "company property".

Kim So-heon was stumped when asked the question. What was he thinking?

It might have started out of curiosity, a sense of responsibility, or company KPIs. But what happened later?

When did I start to get used to the presence of another "person" in the room? When did I start to worry about whether he had enough energy and pay attention to his mood? When did the person in the mirror's safety, joy, or anger easily cause my heart rate to become uncontrollable?

Jin Zhaoxuan wasn't one to open up about his feelings; he preferred to act rather than talk. But at this moment, under Yin Shaoqing's gaze—eyes that seemed to see into one's soul and brimming with complex emotions—he suddenly felt that if he didn't say something soon, he might suffer internal injuries from holding it in.

He took a step forward, almost touching his nose to the mirror, with only a thin layer of glass separating him from Yin Shaoqing in the mirror. He could see every subtle light and shadow on the other's face, feel that inhuman, cold aura, and see his reflection in those eyes, so clear it seemed to suck him in.

"What's the point?" Jin Zhaoxuan repeated the question, his voice so low it was almost a whisper, carrying a tenderness he himself didn't realize, and... a rare sense of helplessness. "I want to know too."

He raised his hand, his fingertips lightly touching the mirror, directly at the location of Yin Shaoqing's heart.

"Maybe it's because you're too stupid. You've been dead for eighty years and still haven't learned to take care of yourself. It's upsetting to see you like this."

"Maybe it's because of the smug look on your face when you talk about history... it's quite pleasing to the eye."

"Maybe it's because I'm used to you nagging around, so it's a bit eerie when the room is too quiet."

"It could also be because..."

He paused for a long time, so long that Yin Shaoqing thought he had lost contact.

Jin Zhaoxuan took a deep breath, as if facing death, and looked straight into Yin Shaoqing's eyes, speaking slowly and deliberately, as if carving a monument:

"I just don't want to see you alone anymore."

"Eighty years ago, no one would have protected you, so it was none of my business. But now, I'm here for you."

"So, don't ask why. Just think of it as... I, Jin Zhaoxuan, can't stand seeing the people under my roof being wronged."

The words landed heavily on the floor, and the room fell into a deathly silence.

Only one person and one mirror remained, separated by a layer of glass, their eyes locked in a fierce battle, sparks flying everywhere.

Yin Shaoqing's figure froze completely, and all data streams crashed. The emotions surging in his eyes were a chaotic mess: shock, bewilderment, disbelief, and finally all turned into a pot of boiling, about-to-erupt lava.

He wanted to say thank you, he wanted to say sorry, he wanted to say what he had done to deserve this.

But a thousand words stuck in his throat, and in the end, only a very soft sigh and a trembling voice managed to squeeze out:

"...You idiot."

Jin Zhaoxuan understood. Instead of getting angry, he forced a slightly awkward but dazzling smile.

"Likewise."

The two stood there, one in front of the mirror, neither of them saying a word.

But some long-standing, invisible wall collapsed with a roar, shattering into nothingness.

A new, thicker, and more intense relationship is growing wildly in the silence, its roots intertwined tightly.

Outside the window, the night was as dark as spilled ink.

Inside, however, it was warm enough to hatch chicks.

Once the plan is set, we get to work and never delay.

Jin Zhaoxuan quickly dropped all unimportant tasks and, along with Xiao Chen and two trusted technical experts, retreated to the basement of the old house (now upgraded to a temporary war room) for a grueling workday. The sandbox server was independently built, physically isolated, receiving support from Yin Shaoqing's limited knowledge base only through a single data cable encrypted to an unrecognizable level. The virtual avatar's image was based on "Teacher Yin," subtly tweaked to be colder and more dashing, resembling an "electronic history book burdened with deep-seated hatred." Jin Zhaoxuan personally wrote the script, setting countless branching options and simulating scenarios until his brain ached.

Yin Shaoqing focused on two things: first, he thoroughly analyzed Takeda Koichi's notes, digging out any clues and bugs that might have been overlooked; second, he helped polish the virtual stand-in's language library to ensure that his "professional history expert" demeanor was impeccable, and incidentally, he subtly added some life details that only real people who had experienced the events firsthand would know to increase credibility.

The "online meeting" was scheduled for 9 PM three days later, via encrypted video. The location was "chosen" as a private room in a business club in the suburbs with good internet access (but actually remotely controlled). The invitation (with a temporary link and password) was anonymously sent back to the designated collection point by Jin Zhaoxuan.

The other party replied with confirmation immediately.

A storm is brewing, and the wind howls through the building; in the basement, the sound of keyboards popping like beans is heard.

That evening of the meeting.

The basement was brightly lit, and the server fans hummed like a swarm of restless bees. Four large screens displayed: sandbox status monitoring, virtual avatar perspective, the other party's view (still black), and encrypted data stream analysis.

Jin Zhaoxuan sat at the control panel, wearing a black T-shirt, his eyes calm and collected like a sniper god. Xiao Chen and the technicians were on high alert. Yin Shaoqing's core consciousness hadn't been connected, but his virtual avatar was quietly "observing" on the auxiliary screen beside him, as steady as a rock.

8:59.

"The other party is requesting access," the technician reported.

"Check the encryption protocol; if it's secure, let it in," Jin Zhaoxuan ordered.

A few seconds later, the other party's screen lit up.

It was indeed Takeda Kei, whom I had met at the city government meeting. He was impeccably dressed in a suit and sat in a Japanese-style study with towering bookshelves in the background. He wore a standard business smile, but the sharp scan in his eyes the moment the call connected did not escape the high-definition camera.

Sitting next to him was an elderly man in a kimono, with gray hair and a stern, expressionless face. The old man lowered his eyes and flicked his prayer beads, as if he were just an insignificant background figure.

Jin Zhaoxuan's eyes sharpened. This old man... no such person could be found in the records. But judging from his aura, he was definitely not a kind person.

"Good evening, Mr. Jin." Takeda began in fluent Chinese, his gaze sweeping over the virtual background on Jin Zhaoxuan's side. "Thank you for taking the time. I wonder if 'Mr. Yin' would do me the honor of joining us?"

"Wait a moment." Jin Zhaoxuan's voice was processed by a voice changer, making it neutral and deep.

The scene changes. The virtual avatar "Yin Shaoqing" appears in the center of the screen. The background is a virtual study. He is wearing a dark blue robe, sitting upright behind the desk, with an indifferent expression and a gaze as calm as an ancient well.

“Mr. Takeda.” The virtual Yin Shaoqing spoke, his voice cold and clear, with a faint hint of an old-fashioned tone.

Takeda Kei's smile deepened, his eyes probing even more intently: "Mr. Yin, it's a pleasure to meet you. It's quite unexpected to be speaking to you in this way. My grandfather, Takeda Koichi, worked with your father, Takahashi Shinsuke, and has long admired his talent." He spoke tactfully, both trying to establish a connection and avoiding any potential issues.

The virtual Yin Shaoqing remained unmoved: "There's no need to bring up the past. Mr. Takeda must have important business to discuss with me."

“Mr. Yin is straightforward.” Takeda Kei smiled and picked up the dark blue cloth-bound notebook. “These handwritten notes left by my ancestors may be of reference to Mr. Yin. The records within may clear up the fog of history.”

He turned to a page in his notebook and pointed it at the camera—the page that recorded "the water tower matter is over" and the suspicion that Takahashi had kept the documents privately.

The virtual Yin Shaoqing's gaze fell on the notebook, and he remained silent for a few seconds (preset reaction). Then he slowly said, "Major Takeda Koichi's records corroborate some of the fragments of my memory."

They neither admitted nor denied it, only giving a vague answer.

“Oh? Mr. Yin’s memory…” Takeda Kei leaned forward, “Truly extraordinary. I wonder if, besides all this, Mr. Yin, you also remember that in your father’s final moments, besides entrusting the box to Liu Fusheng, did he… have another plan?”

They're here! They were definitely thinking about more!

The virtual Yin Shaoqing's lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile: "My father was barely able to protect himself at the time, so how could he have any 'backup plan'? Does Mr. Takeda really think that under my grandfather's close surveillance, there could be any fish that slipped through the net?"

He gave them a soft rebuff and shifted the blame back to Takeda Koichi.

Takeda Kei's smile remained unchanged: "In times of chaos, oversights are inevitable. Moreover, your father was exceptionally intelligent. We recently sorted through our family's old belongings and discovered some clues that may be related, but they are difficult to interpret. If Mr. Yin is willing to share more... details of his memories, it may be possible to piece together a more complete picture. This would also be helpful in clarifying history."

Start casting bait, signaling an exchange.

"My memories are mostly related to steel technology, fragmented and complex." The virtual Yin Shaoqing remained unmoved. "Whether my father has other plans, I have no way of knowing. If it's convenient, please feel free to speak frankly about Mr. Takeda's clues. Perhaps they can be of some reference from a technical perspective."

A tug-of-war begins. Takeda Kei keeps probing the scope and authenticity of Yin Shaoqing's "memory," subtly inquiring about the whereabouts of "other materials"; the virtual Yin Shaoqing, on the other hand, maintains a consistently technically aloof demeanor, engaging only in limited discussions about the notes and any "clues" the other party might throw out, refusing to utter a word more.

The old man beside him kept his eyes closed and twirled his prayer beads without saying a word, but Jin Zhaoxuan could sense that the old man's mental energy was completely focused on the conversation.

Suddenly, Takeda Kei changed the subject: "Mr. Yin's knowledge and memory are truly astonishing. I wonder if you're settling into your new life on the data network? Are there any inconveniences?"

The question, seemingly concerned, is actually incisive, directly targeting Yin Shaoqing's "existence".

The air in the basement suddenly tightened.

Jin Zhaoxuan's fingers tapped rapidly on the keyboard, injecting the preset response.

The virtual Yin Shaoqing remained expressionless, only his eyes deepened slightly: "Though the form of existence is different, the thirst for knowledge remains unchanged. Technology has given me unprecedented vision and connections, so what inconvenience is there? It is Mr. Takeda who seems particularly concerned about my way of 'existing'?"

He launched a counterattack.

Takeda Kei laughed to cover up his misunderstanding: "I'm just curious about the power of technology. So, Mr. Yin, are you satisfied with the current cooperation with Mr. Jin? Mr. Jin is young and promising, but he is ultimately a businessman. Some historical value may need to be excavated and protected by more... professional institutions."

They began to sow discord and hinted at accepting amnesty.

The virtual Yin Shaoqing answered decisively: "Mr. Jin kept his promise and gave me a platform to research and disseminate history. Whether it is professional or not, the audience will have their own judgment. Other matters are not my concern."

The negotiations reached another stalemate. Takeda Kei was visibly agitated, glancing at the old man. The old man finally opened his eyes slowly; they were calm yet unfathomable eyes. He looked at the camera and spoke for the first time, his aged, slow Japanese translated by Takeda Kei:

"Mr. Yin, the past is gone. Technology is boundless. The Takeda family is willing to treat you with sincerity, share resources, and jointly explore the future. If you have any needs or feel constrained, the doors of the Takeda family will always be open."

Finally, the confrontation was followed by a combination of threats and inducements, with the perpetrator adopting a humble stance and offering maximum enticement. He even hinted that he could help Yin Shaoqing break free of his "shackles" (clearly referring to Jin Zhaoxuan).

You could hear a pin drop in the basement. Everyone looked at Jin Zhaoxuan.

Jin Zhaoxuan remained expressionless, his finger hovering over a red button. He was waiting for the virtual Yin Shaoqing's reaction, and also trying to gauge the other's true intentions.

The virtual Yin Shaoqing remained silent for a moment, seemingly processing what he was doing. Then, he slowly rose (a programmed action), walked to the virtual window, turned his back to the camera for a short while, then turned around and looked calmly at the other person:

"Thank you for your kindness. But I was born here, grew up here, and my memories are rooted here. My past, present, and the future I can foresee are all tied to this place and these people. Technology may change the form, but it cannot change the essence."

He paused, his tone becoming even firmer:

"As for constraints... freedom lies in the peace of mind. Mr. Takeda, if there is nothing else, let's leave it at that for today."

A clear and complete rejection.

Takeda Kei's smile finally crumbled, his eyes turning sinister. The old man slowly closed his eyes, his fingers moving faster as he twirled the prayer beads.

“Since that’s the case, it’s not appropriate to force it,” Takeda Kei said coldly. “I hope everything goes well for Mr. Yin and Mr. Jin.” The threat was no longer concealed.

"No need to see me off." The virtual Yin Shaoqing nodded slightly, and the image cut off.

The connection has been lost.

There was a collective gasp in the basement, but the atmosphere remained heavy.

"They won't give up," Xiao Chen said, wiping his sweat.

Jin Zhaoxuan remained silent and quickly retrieved the data stream analysis report. The other party had indeed made several subtle environmental probes and data structure probing attempts during the conversation, all of which were intercepted. No obvious viruses or backdoors were found.

But that mysterious old man... and Takeda Kei's final threat...

"Activate Contingency Plan Two," Jin Zhaoxuan said in a deep voice. "Send scanned copies of the key pages of the notes, along with clips of their attempts to recruit 'special AI' and spy on secrets during today's meeting, to the departments and friendly media we contacted earlier. Send them anonymously, leaving some 'breadcrumbs' pointing to the Takeda family."

Since the other party resorted to underhanded tactics first, don't blame them for overturning the table. They'll issue public threats and exert pressure on public opinion and regulation.

"yes!"

After giving his orders, Jin Zhaoxuan slumped into his chair and rubbed his temples. He had won a round, but he knew this was just the beginning. The Takeda family had deep roots and dirty tricks, and that old man was even more unfathomable.

He turned his head to look at Yin Shaoqing on the screen next to him.

Yin Shaoqing's virtual image was quietly "looking" at him, his eyes filled with concern and a fierce trust that said "we'll do this side by side, man."

"You acted well." Jin Zhaoxuan gestured with his chin at him.

“You directed it better,” Yin Shaoqing replied softly, a faint smile flashing in his eyes.

Their eyes met, and everything was understood without a word.

They won this game.

But the real storm may have only just begun to break out.