Chapter 8

For the next three days, Comrade Yin Shaoqing was basically in a "vegetative state".

If you say he's there, there's only a faint shadow in the mirror, thinner than moonlight on a smoggy day. If you say he's not there, the indicator light on the power bank is like an electrocardiogram in an ICU, flashing only every now and then, a perfunctory yet stubborn flash, as if saying, "Don't unplug the tube... I can still be saved..."

Jin Zhaoxuan practically became a full-time caregiver, serving a "cyber ancestor" with an unpredictable temper and unstable condition.

At the company, the museum project was already underway. Xiao Chen and his team were working hard to build the framework, but the core "Teacher Yin's AI Narration" module was stuck—this thing required Yin Shaoqing himself to personally step in, using his special "ghost permissions" to feed data and logic into the system, commonly known as "soul feeding".

Jin Zhaoxuan could only bite the bullet and stall: "Professor Yin... uh, he's been engrossed in studying historical details lately, he's in seclusion! Yes, in seclusion!"

"Mr. Jin, Director Zhang is asking again," Xiao Chen's voice on the phone was almost crying, "saying that he'd at least show us a static PPT first."

“PPTs have no soul! Next week! Next week I’ll definitely get him out of seclusion!” Jin Zhaoxuan stared at the unmoving, pale reflection in the mirror and made up a story.

After hanging up the phone, he resignedly went to the kitchen to cook porridge. Although he knew Yin Shaoqing couldn't drink it, he figured a little rice aroma in the house was better than the burnt smell of electronic components. What if this old fogey just liked the "smell of home cooking"?

As the porridge bubbled and steamed in the pot, filling the air with its aroma, Jin Zhaoxuan suddenly heard a very soft, hesitant voice:

"……fragrant."

He turned around abruptly and almost twisted his neck.

In the mirror, that faint shadow actually... solidified a little bit! Although it still looked like a person with severe myopia taking off their glasses to see things, at least a human figure could be seen, and it was no longer just a pure "atmosphere".

"Teacher Yin? You're awake? How are you feeling? Is your mind still a mess?" Jin Zhaoxuan leaned closer, like observing a newly hatched chick.

“…It’s a mess.” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was still weak, but at least it wasn’t a Martian signal anymore. “It’s like…there’s an eighty-year-old fragment sorting progress bar in my brain, and it’s only at 1%.”

"No rush, no rush, take your time organizing. Make sure you understand the C, D, E, and F drives." Jin Zhaoxuan ladled out a bowl of porridge and placed it on the stool in front of the mirror, along with a small dish of pickled vegetables (the ritual had to be complete). "Eighty years of system junk, it'll be a bit slow to clean up."

Yin Shaoqing remained silent for a long time, so long that Jin Zhaoxuan thought he was on standby again.

“Mr. Jin,” he finally spoke, his voice as soft as a feather, “you…do you really believe that my adoptive father…wanted to save me, not to kill me?”

"Believe! You have to believe! It's more real than believing the pie in the sky that my boss makes!" Jin Zhaoxuan said decisively. "Otherwise, why would he leave a letter? Is he writing a will for fun? And entrusting the real thing to Master Liu? Sticking your photo in his pocket watch? This is typical of a tough-talking but soft-hearted father. But this heart... his actions are a bit shady. He's sent you straight to the spring."

Yin Shaoqing fell silent again. The mist in the mirror swirled slowly, as if the CPU was running at full speed.

“When I fell in,” he began again, his voice crackling with suppressed static, like a ghostly sob, “the water was incredibly cold and incredibly dark. I tried to grab onto something, but I couldn’t grasp anything… The last thing I remember is my adoptive father’s face, and he said ‘I’m sorry.’”

The reflection in the mirror jerked violently, as if a signal had been interfered with.

“At the time, I thought… those were crocodile tears. Now that I think about it… he might actually be apologizing for that lousy plan.”

Jin Zhaoxuan felt a pang of sadness. Good heavens, a nineteen-year-old boy, believing he had been sent away by his closest loved ones, sinking into despair in dark, icy water… the psychological trauma he suffered must be measured in galaxies!

“It’s all in the past, brother.” Jin Zhaoxuan patted his glasses (physical reassurance). “Now that the truth is out, you could… try to format that painful memory?”

"Format?" Yin Shaoqing chuckled bitterly, his laughter laced with a hissing sound. "I've been stuck on this 'why' bug for eighty years. Now I know the 'why,' but a new bug has appeared—'what if.' What if I had seen the diagram back then? What if I had found the air chamber? What if I had survived...? What about all those eighty years of standby? System latency?"

Jin Zhaoxuan was stumped. This philosophical question was beyond his comprehension; he was better at solving practical problems like "Why did the boss change the requirements again?"

"Stop this vicious cycle!" He forcefully changed the subject. "The museum project is waiting for you to save the day! The fans in the live stream are constantly asking 'When will Teacher Yin return?' If you don't show up soon, they'll start crowdfunding to burn paper money for you... oh no, I mean, burn new skins for you!"

“…Hmm.” Yin Shaoqing responded, trying to calm himself down.

"Besides, I think you need to... recharge," Jin Zhaoxuan pondered. "With your battery level like this, you'd have a hard time even reading an ebook, right?"

“Yes… we need more ‘connections’,” Yin Shaoqing explained, his voice a little embarrassed. “Before, we relied on the attention of the live stream viewers, and… having you around, to keep things going. Now it’s too unreliable; we might need something more direct…”

"Just say it! What do you need me to do? Donate blood or your yang energy?" Jin Zhaoxuan rolled up his sleeves.

“Maybe… I need you to be… closer to me.” Yin Shaoqing’s voice was even softer. “Your ‘anger’ has a slight attraction for me… like a phone near a wireless charging pad. The reason I would unconsciously drift to where you sleep before is probably the same principle.”

Without saying a word, Jin Zhaoxuan pulled the chair to a position close to the mirror, plopped down, and almost pressed his face against the mirror.

"Like this? Is it close enough? Should I crawl inside the mirror?"

"...Too, too close." Yin Shaoqing's shadow seemed to shrink back (an illusion?), "You'll get cold. The temperature around me is...low."

"I'm afraid of the cold? I'm from Northeast China!" Jin Zhaoxuan even draped his arm over his glasses, striking a friendly pose. "Any other requests? Just say the word! I'm your human power bank right now!"

“Perhaps…we could talk more,” Yin Shaoqing suggested softly. “Sound is also vibration…I can detect it. It would help…stabilize the signal.”

So, for the next few hours, Jin Zhaoxuan turned on the most talkative mode of his life.

From Xiao Chen in the company writing another series of epic bugs, to Director Zhang's relentless pressure to meet deadlines; from his mother's obsession with square dancing and her attempt to recruit him as a dance partner, to the near-walking commute due to the traffic paralysis in Anshan today; from the bizarre "cheese durian grilled cold noodles" dish introduced by the barbecue stall downstairs, to his complete lack of understanding of the latest online memes...

He spoke with great enthusiasm, drinking three cups of water and going to the toilet twice.

Yin Shaoqing in the mirror listened quietly. His features became more defined at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. The indicator light on the power bank gradually transitioned from a "dying gasp" mode to a "steady breathing" mode.

When Jin Zhaoxuan complained for the third time, "My mom insists on introducing me to someone, saying she's a primary school teacher, gentle, virtuous, and a good wife," Yin Shaoqing suddenly chuckled very softly.

The laughter was soft, but genuine, without any electrical noise.

Jin Zhaoxuan stopped: "What are you laughing at? Do you think it's funny that I'm being pressured to get married?"

"No," Yin Shaoqing's voice softened, "it's just that... it's nice that someone cares about you like this."

"She's just bored!" Jin Zhaoxuan muttered, but the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

He felt that the lingering chill in the room seemed to have dissipated a little.

It seems that the human-shaped power bank + endless rambling therapy is effective!

By the fourth day, Yin Shaoqing was able to maintain a relatively clear outline and even briefly "flash" on the phone screen for a few minutes. Although it looked like a live wallpaper in low power mode, it was at least able to conduct basic communication.

Jin Zhaoxuan knew he couldn't let the museum down any longer. He took the portable AR device to the company and had Xiao Chen set up a simple demonstration environment in the conference room—a few virtual models of early 1936 rolling mill equipment, so shabby it looked like a beginner's village scene in a game.

"Teacher Yin can only provide remote support for ten minutes. She is weak and has just recovered," Jin Zhaoxuan warned Director Zhang and Li Mei.

"I understand, I understand. Health is the foundation of everything." Director Zhang was very easy to talk to.

The demonstration begins.

Jin Zhaoxuan put on the AR glasses. Yin Shaoqing's virtual image appeared in the center of the conference room. This time, the rendering was optimized, and he looked much more handsome and clear (Xiao Chen said privately that he added a little "beauty filter" at the request of President Jin).

"Hello everyone," Yin Shaoqing's voice came through the speakers, calm and gentle, "Today I will give a simple demonstration of the AR reproduction of the primary rolling mill operation process."

He began his explanation. From the moment the steel billet entered the furnace to the final product being rolled into finished goods, the virtual equipment operated synchronously, with meticulous attention to detail, even simulating the commands shouted by the workers back then.

Li Mei's eyes lit up as she nodded repeatedly. Director Zhang was even more excited: "Yes! That's it! It's so authentic!"

For the first eight minutes, they were as steady as a rock.

Jin Zhaoxuan mentally gave himself a thumbs up, thinking this was a sure thing—

Unexpected changes occurred!

When Yin Shaoqing got to the slightly complicated part about "rolling mill speed adjustment," the virtual rolling mill model suddenly froze! Immediately afterwards, the entire demonstration scene began to flicker wildly, Yin Shaoqing's voice became severely delayed and distorted, and his virtual image began to fluctuate and break down, looking just like a low-quality online game character attacked by a virus!

"What's going on?!" Director Zhang stood up.

Jin Zhaoxuan's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly checked the monitor—the curve representing Yin Shaoqing's "energy state" was plummeting! This guy was forcibly holding on, but for him right now, this high-intensity "data output" was equivalent to running a marathon while carrying three bricks!

"I...sorry..." Yin Shaoqing's voice came intermittently, mixed with jarring static, "The system...is temporarily...unstable..."

Before he could finish speaking, his virtual image flashed a few times and then vanished completely into thin air.

The meeting room was deathly silent, with only awkwardness spreading through it.

Jin Zhaoxuan quickly took off his glasses, his expression unchanged (pretending): "Sorry, there was a technical problem with the remote transmission. It might be due to network fluctuations, or Professor Yin's rendering server might need to be restarted. We'll check it immediately!"

Xiao Chen reacted quickly: "Yes, yes, yes! The network has been a bit unstable lately! And Teacher Yin's equipment is old too!"

Director Zhang and Li Mei exchanged a glance, but didn't make things too difficult for each other.

“Technical issues are inevitable,” said Director Zhang. “However, Mr. Jin, stability is key when the exhibition is officially held. Our museum has high hopes for this project.”

"I will definitely solve it!" Jin Zhaoxuan patted his chest and guaranteed.

After seeing the two off, Jin Zhaoxuan returned to the conference room, his face falling.

Xiao Chen leaned closer cautiously: "Mr. Jin, is it really a problem with the remote server, Mr. Yin?"

Jin Zhaoxuan didn't respond, but simply said, "Export today's fault logs. Also, find a way to optimize the rendering of the virtual avatars; turn off all special effects and save resources however you can!"

"clear!"

Jin Zhaoxuan knew perfectly well that the problem wasn't with the technology, but with Yin Shaoqing's very "soul." His "system" had barely recovered a little before forcibly running a high-load program; it was no wonder it crashed.

We must find a more efficient and longer-lasting way to "charge," or... find him an "energy-saving mode."

When they returned to the old house that evening, Yin Shaoqing had already shrunk back into the mirror, his features even fainter than before the daytime demonstration, looking as if his body had been hollowed out.

"I'm sorry," he apologized in a low voice as soon as he saw Jin Zhaoxuan, "I messed up the presentation."

"What are you smashing? I didn't smash anything!" Jin Zhaoxuan laid out the food he had taken from the company cafeteria. "I was too impatient. I shouldn't have let you perform a holographic stand-up comedy show right after you recovered. You're not Iron Man."

"But the project can't keep dragging on..."

“The project is not as important as you,” Jin Zhaoxuan blurted out.

After he finished speaking, the air suddenly became quiet.

The fog in the mirror seemed to have solidified.

Jin Zhaoxuan coughed twice and then shoveled rice into his mouth: "What I mean is... you are the core technology! If you're healthy, the project can succeed! If you're gone, even if I win the project, it'll fall through!"

“…Hmm.” Yin Shaoqing responded softly, without saying anything more.

The atmosphere was a little awkward. Jin Zhaoxuan buried his head in his rice, feeling his ears getting a little hot. Yin Shaoqing sat quietly in the mirror, his features seeming a little more stable and gentler than before?

Just then, Jin Zhaoxuan's phone rang.

It's Liu Jianjun.

“Mr. Jin, am I disturbing you?” Liu Jianjun’s voice came through the phone. “I was tidying up my things these past two days and found another hand-drawn map left by my grandfather.

"map?"

"Hmm, it looks like a sketch of the factory's underground pipe network. There's a place circled in red," Liu Jianjun said. "It looks a bit like the area under the old water tower. There's also some small writing next to it, but my old eyes can't see it clearly, so I took a picture of it for you."

Jin Zhaoxuan immediately opened WeChat.

The image loads. It's a yellowed pencil sketch, the lines crooked but the features clear. Next to the outline of the water tower, somewhere underground, is a striking red circle. Beside it is a line of blurry, tiny characters.

Jin Zhaoxuan zoomed in on the picture, squinting to make out the details—

"Takahashi instructed: The emergency gas chamber is here, don't forget."

Jin Zhaoxuan's heart skipped a beat, and he almost threw his phone away.

He immediately shoved the screen in front of the mirror: "Teacher Yin! Look! High-definition camera! A clue has been found!"

The fog in the mirror surged violently, and Yin Shaoqing's silhouette suddenly "protruded" forward, almost breaking through the mirror.

“…It’s here.” His voice trembled with disbelief and suppressed excitement. “This location…matches the direction I remember sinking in. Maybe…it really is…”

"The air chamber might still be there!" Jin Zhaoxuan's voice trembled with excitement. "Eighty years have passed. Everything above ground has changed, but underground it might still be the same structure as before! If that air chamber was indeed rebuilt and wasn't completely buried by later construction..."

“Maybe… we can find it.” Yin Shaoqing replied, his voice filled with a complex emotion, not resentment, but more like a cruel and stubborn search for proof, “Maybe we can see with our own eyes just how far I was from that path to survival back then.”

Jin Zhaoxuan immediately called Liu Jianjun back: "Master Liu! This diagram is crucial! Can we meet and discuss it in detail? Regarding that air chamber, we..."

On the other end of the phone, Liu Jianjun remained silent for a few seconds.

“Mr. Jin,” he began slowly, his tone steady, “I’ve been thinking about this for the past two days. The ‘well’ my father mentioned before he died is probably not an ordinary maintenance well.”

"What is that?"

“There was indeed a vertical shaft under the water tower in the early years for the maintenance of the underwater parts, but it was later abandoned and sealed off,” Liu Jianjun said. “My grandfather hid things there, or the location that the map points to is very likely that place.”

He paused, then said firmly, "If you really want to get to the bottom of this, I can lead the way. When I was young, I went in with my father once. Although it was dangerous, I think Teacher Yin has the right to know the whole truth. We should put a period to this matter now."

Jin Zhaoxuan gripped his phone tightly.

He looked in the mirror. Yin Shaoqing's silhouette stood there quietly, yet it seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, awaiting a decision.

"Okay!" Jin Zhaoxuan said, "When shall we set off?"

“Let’s do it on the weekend,” Liu Jianjun said. “The light will be better during the day. I’ll prepare some tools and safety ropes.”

"Thank you so much!"

"No need to thank me." Liu Jianjun's voice was very calm. "Some things, no matter how long they are buried, have to see the light of day."

After hanging up the phone, Jin Zhaoxuan and Yin Shaoqing looked at each other silently through the mirror.

“This time,” Jin Zhaoxuan grinned, his eyes gleaming, “we’ll dig three feet into the ground to uncover the truth! And then…”

“Then,” Yin Shaoqing continued softly, his features clear and resolute in the mirror, “I will probably… be able to truly shut down and restart, and see… if there is a ‘future’.”

Outside the window, the night was already deep.

But this time, the darkness didn't seem so unbearable, because the most crucial piece of the puzzle before dawn was already in their grasp.

In the air, it seemed as if something was quietly breaking through the soil and sprouting.