光根电影院yy11111

Lin Xian lowered his head and turned the four dials on the diary. As usual, they moved smoothly. Click, click—the sound was crisp and delicate, pleasant to the ear, and the feel was excellent.

It was hard to believe that this diary had been around for over twenty years. Just by the sound and feel, one could infer that the mechanical design of this lock was incredibly precise. You had to admire the craftsmanship from that era. The level of detail in small items like this from the last century could be world-leading.

No wonder those urban legends about Japan’s meticulousness, like washing plates seven times, exist. But that’s all in the past. Lin Xian wasn’t sure about the current state of Japanese manufacturing. Apart from games and anime, there wasn’t much else noticeable. Even in cosmetics, a few brands were decent, but they weren’t top-tier globally. Plus, due to the stigma from nuclear waste, Japanese cosmetics hardly had a presence in the domestic market anymore.

Lin Xian carefully adjusted the last two dials. 0121. The numbers stood out clearly, as if this diary had never aged.

“Got it.” He pressed the unlocking lever with his left thumb.

Click!

It didn’t open.

“Hmph.” Lin Xian couldn’t help but reminisce about those nights in his first dream, battling wits with CC and Big Cat Face, trying various passwords to open safes. He felt a strange nostalgia, as if it were just yesterday. Thinking about the cold and mysterious CC, Lin Xian’s mind involuntarily overlapped her image with Chu An Qing and Zhang Yu Qian. They looked identical, without the slightest difference.

Actually, when Lin Xian opened the coffin earlier and found no body or ashes of Zhang Yu Qian, he was genuinely relieved. He felt a bit of luck, a bit of relief. If Zhang Yu Qian had truly died, normally, there would be a body and bones. Then, Chu An Qing’s mysterious disappearance would be a unique case. A unique case can’t prove anything. If something has only happened once in the world, it remains an unsolvable mystery.

By that reasoning, perhaps Chu An Qing’s disappearance was just an accident caused by exposure to time-space particles. If she hadn’t encountered them, she might not have disappeared. But now, the same thing had happened to Zhang Yu Qian over twenty years ago. This meant that the phenomenon of twenty-year-old girls turning into blue stardust and disappearing wasn’t an accident; it was more like a predetermined program.

As long as these incidents weren’t accidents, the source could be traced, the cause investigated, and ultimately… this predetermined fate could be altered! Lin Xian increasingly felt that Chu An Qing might not be dead. [She really isn’t dead, she probably just went somewhere else.]

“No way, seriously?” Gao Yang’s eyes shifted. “Then let’s try 0042? Although I don’t think it’s very likely, this time is significant for Zhang Yu Qian. It’s when she came into this world and when she left it. But it’s hard to say… Her mother couldn’t remember the exact time she was born. Would she know herself? Moreover, could she have predicted she would disappear at 00:42?”

Suddenly, Gao Yang froze. “Oh my gosh! It’s not impossible! Chu An Qing knew she would disappear at 00:42 after touching the time-space particles, so she wailed and cried. If Chu An Qing could foresee this time, maybe Zhang Yu Qian could too! Try 0042; I think this password has a good chance.”

Lin Xian lowered his head again and turned the dials. The four stainless steel password dials were set to 0042. Then he pressed the lever.

Click!

It didn’t open.

Gao Yang pulled out a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. “Let’s go with technology.”

Lin Xian silently tried a few more passwords—2000, 2024, 2624, 0828, 0328—special years and dates, but none worked. He even tried his own birthday, to no avail.

“Hmph, what a clown.” Reluctantly, he held the diary higher, using the miner’s lamp on his head to study the diary and the lock’s structure. “This thing can be broken by force, but looking at its structure, if we break it, the lock mechanism will be ruined, and we’ll never know what password Zhang Yu Qian set.”

“Tch!” Gao Yang scoffed. “The diary’s content is what’s important. The lock is just a lock. Why bother about the password? As long as we can open it, a hammer and pliers are as good as keys.”

“Not necessarily.” Lin Xian shook his head. “Sometimes, the password itself holds more meaning than what it locks away.”

In recent times, Lin Xian had encountered numerous password-related events. Not just the safe with his name, but also Zhao Ying Jun’s office’s password door, the trash robot in Sky City, and the new password for the aluminum alloy safe… Passwords are a kind of information. Even if it’s just a series of numbers, there must be some significance behind them, or perhaps… an unforgettable story.

“So, let’s not break it yet.” Lin Xian took the password diary out of the coffin and placed it with the album and old videotape. “After all, it’s just a four-digit password. There are only 10,000 possible combinations. Even if I try them one by one, it won’t take long.”

“A four-digit password isn’t like an eight-digit one… It’s easy to crack; it’s just a matter of speed and patience. Compared to the diary’s contents, I’m more curious about what password Zhang Yu Qian set for this diary. Maybe the real ‘secret’ isn’t inside the diary; the four-digit password itself might be Zhang Yu Qian’s true secret.”

Gao Yang snorted and stood up. “You’re obsessed. I think you just want to read the girl’s private diary and not share it with me.”

Then, they pushed the coffin lid back on. They filled the dug-up soil back in. Even though Gao Yang tried to smooth out the turf, the disturbed soil was like shattered glass, hard to restore to its original state.

“Forget it, this will do.” Gao Yang quickly gave up, patting the soil with the shovel, wiping his sweat, and comforting himself. “Grass grows quickly. It may look obvious now, but after a rain, it’ll blend in with the surroundings. Besides… who would come to this godforsaken place? It’s spooky enough to scare people away.”

They packed up their things, made two trips to load them into the Prado’s trunk. On their last trip out, they glanced back at the swaying pomegranate tree. Gao Yang clasped his hands and bowed to it.

“Why are you bowing? There’s no one buried here,” Lin Xian teased.

“Hey, it’s better to be polite.” With that, they trudged through the mud, leaving behind the quiet, peaceful, and serene oasis.

…

In the Toyota Prado, Gao Yang focused on driving on the expressway while Lin Xian half-lay in the passenger seat, constantly fiddling with the diary’s password lock. He found that pushing the dials up required less effort and allowed him to press the lever with his right hand easily. So, he used the old brute-force method to try the passwords, starting from 9999 and working his way down.

9999… 9998… 9997… Click, click, click. Though tedious, the process wasn’t slow. With only 10,000 combinations, each wrong one reduced the remaining possibilities, increasing the chance of the next being correct.

Gao Yang had only driven through a couple of intersections when Lin Xian had already tried over a hundred combinations, reaching 9811… 9810… As he got more familiar, he didn’t even need to look at the lock, relying on feel alone.

Lin Xian felt like a soulless password-cracking machine, repeating the process without thinking. He glanced back at the rear seat, where various tools, an old videotape, and a yellowed photo album lay. They had retrieved three valuable items from Zhang Yu Qian’s coffin: the password diary, the old videotape, and a thick photo album.

These were the most valuable items in that empty coffin. Lin Xian still had no clue what crucial link connected Chu An Qing, Zhang Yu Qian, and CC—three girls from different eras. Though they might all be millennium anomalies, without knowing what that meant, it was useless. Therefore, they had to return to the capital and visit that luxurious neighborhood in Chaoyang District’s Third Ring Road, to find that stammering middle-aged man and uncover the truth about Zhang Yu Qian’s accident. This time, Lin Xian was confident he could persuade the man.

Now, it was 99% certain that Zhang Yu Qian had likely disappeared into blue stardust like Chu An Qing, and those middle-aged witnesses had seen it happen. Lin Xian had no more reservations and could speak openly.

…

Back at their hotel in Qufu, Gao Yang immediately stripped off his dirty clothes, tossed them in the trash, and rushed to the bathroom. Lin Xian tidied up briefly, showered, changed, and put Zhang Yu Qian’s videotape and album back in the suitcase. While rummaging, he found the casual clothes he wore when they visited the astronaut training base. They had only worn casual clothes once since Wei Cheng gave them several sets of training uniforms the next day, so the casual clothes had been at the bottom of the suitcase.

More importantly… The hair Lin Xian had picked up from Chu An Qing back then was still hidden in the pocket. He reached into the pocket and felt the flat plastic bag. He took it out. Under the light, he saw that the bag was now empty, without a single hair.

“Sure enough, it’s empty.” Lin Xian wasn’t surprised. The sealed top of the plastic bag was intact, still sealed as it had been. This indicated that even Chu An Qing’s fallen hair had turned into blue stardust and vanished at 00:42 on March 28, 2024. In this world, every part of Chu An Qing’s body, down to the smallest trace, had disappeared at that moment, collapsing like quantum particles into fine blue stardust. In a sense, those scattered particles were similar to time-space particles.

Time-space particles didn’t belong to this time-space, allowing them to pass through any material in this universe. Just like the blue stardust from Chu An Qing, which could escape a spacesuit or disappear from a sealed plastic bag. Both were extraordinary substances.

If millennium anomalies and time-space particles shared this property of not belonging to this time-space, it made sense. But the question remained… If millennium anomalies, like Chu An Qing and Zhang Yu Qian, didn’t belong to this time-space, why didn’t they suffer time-space rejection? Why didn’t their eyes turn blue and crystalline like Yellow Finch’s? Why hadn’t they experienced time-space backlash, becoming weak, collapsing, or turning transparent like Yellow Finch? This created a contradiction.

“So…” Lin Xian concluded. “Most likely, millennium anomalies and time-space particles aren’t the same or even similar things. There’s no commonality, and we shouldn’t look for connections between them.”

Just then, Gao Yang walked over, drying his hair with a towel, and saw the small plastic bag in Lin Xian’s hand. “Is that Chu An Qing’s hair? It disappeared, right?”

Lin Xian nodded. “I was prepared for it, but… I still had a sliver of hope before confirming Zhang Yu Qian’s empty coffin.”

Gao Yang squatted down. He took the sealed, empty plastic bag. “So, DNA testing is out. Zhang Yu Qian’s body is missing, and now Chu An Qing’s hair is gone, sealing off any chance of DNA testing.”

“Wait a minute.” Gao Yang had an idea. “Why not compare the DNA of Chu An Qing’s parents and Zhang Yu Qian’s parents? If Chu An Qing and Zhang Yu Qian’s DNA matches, then Chu Shan He and that middle-aged man should have matching DNA too!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Lin Xian smiled wryly. “Even if we find a match or mismatch, what can it prove? It won’t definitively show that Chu An Qing and Zhang Yu Qian are the same person. It’s not conclusive. Otherwise, why do people still get paternity tests? Or if we find Chu Shan He and that man have matching DNA, what does it mean? Can we be sure Chu An Qing and Zhang Yu Qian’s DNA is identical? Or prove that Chu Shan He and the man are millennium anomalies or something else? Why haven’t they disappeared? They can’t wait until they’re 200, right? Moreover… think logically. If Chu Shan He and that man’s DNA matches, then their father’s DNA should match too; their grandfather’s DNA would also match, and so on. What kind of biological story is that? Is Chu Shan He the origin of humanity?”

Gao Yang gave Lin Xian a thumbs-up. “Your logic is solid! So, Chu Shan He and that man’s DNA are bound to be different. Otherwise, we need to rethink human origins.”

“So now, to understand the truth behind these events and why Chu An Qing disappeared… the last step is to see the role of [time-space particles] in their disappearance as blue stardust. Whether they are necessary, unnecessary, or something that must be encountered to become a millennium anomaly.”

“And to figure this out… we need to return to the capital and ask that middle-aged man to tell the truth about Zhang Yu Qian’s accident and if she cried and babbled like Chu An Qing before disappearing.”

“Exactly.” Lin Xian nodded, looking out at the rising half-moon. “We need to determine if Zhang Yu Qian in 2000 ever encountered time-space particles!”