pjbooks Chapter 463 Young Master?
Chapter 463 Young Master?
Zhang Yan stared at the screen.
That golden private message window, with its encrypted runes that cannot be blocked by the observation protocol, is like a brand etched onto the interface.
The sender's ID was a string of ancient runes he had never seen before.
"Young Master, we have finally found you."
In just one short sentence, the amount of information was so great that even the Heart of the Craftsman resonated slightly with it.
Zhang Yan stretched out his finger and pointed at the strange ID.
A new parsing window immediately pops up on the system interface.
[Analyzing high-level encrypted runes...]
[Rune Origin Comparison: 30,000 years ago, the Mohist civilization.]
[Detailed Explanation of the Rune's Meaning...]
[Analysis complete: This rune is the official seal of "Heavenly Craft City - Inner Palace".]
[WARNING: The encryption level of this communication channel is far higher than the security level of the current observation protocol.]
Inner government.
Zhang Yan's finger stopped on the screen.
He tried typing in the input box, wanting to ask who the other person was.
Another window popped up.
[Two-way communication requires "maintainer" authentication. Do you authorize Tiangongzhixin to access this channel?]
The other party's technology can directly interact with Tiangongzhixin through underlying protocol.
Zhang Yan did not click "yes".
He captured the screen, saved it, and then closed all the interfaces.
He needs someone who can connect all the clues.
Zhang Yan got up, left the underground laboratory, and quickly went upstairs.
In the living room, Nie Qingcheng had just finished a transoceanic video conference and was leaning back on the sofa with her eyes closed, resting.
She opened her eyes when she heard footsteps.
"You're up here so quickly?" Seeing the expression on Zhang Yan's face, she sat up straight. "Something happened?"
Zhang Yan didn't say anything, but handed over his phone and opened the screenshot.
Nie Qingcheng took it, her gaze falling on the words "Young Master," her pupils contracting slightly.
She looked again at the "Heavenly Craft City - Inner Palace" seal that the system had translated, and then at the final identity verification prompt.
"They don't recognize the 'maintainers'." Nie Qingcheng's voice was soft, but every word hit the mark.
"What do you mean?"
"'Maintainer' is a position, a functional title within the Heart of Heavenly Craftsmanship." Nie Qingcheng handed the phone back to Zhang Yan. "But 'Young Master' is a title based on blood ties."
She stood up and took a few steps around the living room.
"They don't care who holds the Heart of Heaven; they only recognize the person who holds it and what their surname is."
Zhang Yan was stunned.
He had never thought about this question.
From the day he obtained the Heart of the Gods, he always believed that he was a chosen "tool," a coincidence among countless possibilities.
"Your parents, Zhang Huaichuan and Lin Shuning." Nie Qingcheng suddenly stopped and turned to look at him. "Are they your adoptive parents, or...?"
"He's my biological son," Zhang Yan replied. "I've seen the files and done the comparison."
"That's strange." Nie Qingcheng sat down again, picked up her tablet, and pulled up a file that she had encrypted.
Those were Zhang Yan's background records, as well as all the records about that orphan from 30,000 years ago, deep within the ruins of the East China Sea.
She placed the photo of the birthmark on Zhang Yan's right wrist side by side with the image of the mark on the wrist of the orphan in the system record.
"Look here." Nie Qingcheng pointed to the screen. "We've overlooked a detail."
"Thirty thousand years ago, after sealing the 'Ruins,' the Heart of Heavenly Craftsmanship exhausted its energy and unexpectedly chose that orphan, leaving behind a resonance path and mark, waiting for the next awakening."
"This process itself is like a kind of... inheritance."
Nie Qingcheng looked up, her gaze fixed intently on Zhang Yan.
"What if that orphan wasn't an ordinary person to begin with?"
"What if he is the son of the Lord of Tiangong City?"
She zoomed in on the two pictures.
"The Heart of Heaven did not choose a random orphan, but the only one it could sense, the one whose bloodline belonged to its master."
"That's why they call you 'Young Master'."
The living room was quiet.
Looking at the mark on the screen that was almost identical to the one on his wrist, Zhang Yan recalled the words, "Young Master, we have finally found you."
A mystery spanning 30,000 years seems to be being unveiled.
"You mean, I..."
"Shh." Nie Qingcheng extended her index finger and gently pressed it against his lips.
She leaned closer, almost touching his face, her breath sweet as orchids.
Don't jump to conclusions.
"Whether it's true or false, a trap or an opportunity, we need more information."
Her fingers traced Zhang Yan's cheek, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
"Until you are sure that the other party has no malicious intent, anyone who claims to be your 'family member' could be an enemy who wants to dismantle you for research."
Zhang Yan could detect an undisguised possessiveness and wariness in her words.
He nodded.
Nie Qingcheng then withdrew her hand in satisfaction.
"Let them wait," she said. "An organization that has waited 30,000 years won't mind waiting a few more days."
"Now, go cook." Nie Qingcheng patted his face. "I'm hungry."
Seeing that she had regained her queenly aura, Zhang Yan didn't ask any more questions.
He turned and walked toward the kitchen.
Whether he is called "the protector" or "the young master", he is first and foremost Nie Qingcheng's personal chef.
This will never change.
He picked up a kitchen knife and began chopping vegetables.
The blade struck the cutting board with a crisp, rhythmic sound.
That golden private message, like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, was creating ripples in the unseen depths of the universe.
Zhang Yan did not reply to the golden private message immediately.
After dinner, he watched an old movie with Nie Qingcheng until she fell asleep, and then he returned to his study alone.
The first thing he did was to dial the encrypted communication for stargazing.
"Stargazing."
"I'm here." The voice on the other end of the communication was as cold as ever.
"Help me check all the records in the Observatory about the 'Lord of Heavenly Craft City' from 30,000 years ago. Don't overlook any clues."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the stargazing.
"reason."
"There's no reason," Zhang Yan said. "This is an order."
Guan Xing seemed to choke for a moment.
"...Received. It will take at least six hours."
"I'll wait."
After hanging up the call, Zhang Yan leaned back in his chair and looked out at the night view.
Nie Qingcheng's guess was like a needle, puncturing the balloon of his self-awareness.
If he really is the so-called "bloodline of the city lord", then was everything he experienced before an arrangement of fate, or a scheme that has lasted for 30,000 years?
Six hours is a long time to get through.
Zhang Yan did not go to the laboratory, nor did he read the observation agreement.
He simply sat in his study, brewed a pot of tea, and waited quietly.
Four o'clock in the morning.
An encrypted communication notification sounded.
"Speak," Zhang Yan answered immediately.
"Found it." Guan Xing's voice carried a hint of weariness, but also an excitement of discovering a new continent.
"Among the oldest batch of handwritten copies in Guantiange, Volume Thirteen contains a record of the demise of the Mohist civilization."
"There was a passage that was erased by later generations with special ink, and I was only able to barely recover it using spectral analysis."
Guan Xing took a deep breath and recited:
"The Heavenly Craft City has fallen, its ruins sealed, but the city lord... is still alive. He led the remnants of the inner court and fled into the sea of stars, his whereabouts unknown."
They vanished into the sea of stars.
Zhang Yan tightened his grip on the communicator.
Thirty thousand years ago, the Mohist civilization was not completely wiped out.
One core group escaped.
"Anything else?"
"That's all," said Guan Xing. "That's the only sentence. All the subsequent records about the city lord show 'died in battle'."
"It is obvious that someone is deliberately covering up this history."
"I understand." Zhang Yan hung up the call.
He was almost certain that the "Heavenly Craft City Inner Palace" that sent the golden private message was the group of people who escaped 30,000 years ago.
They have been waiting in the depths of the universe.
Waiting for the "young master" to appear.
Just then.
Without warning, the phone screen on the table lit up with that golden encrypted window again.
The second private message has arrived.