The more observational data people gathered on 3i Atlas, the less the internet argued about whether it was an alien spacecraft or just an ordinary comet.
At least, officials and astronomers had always maintained that it was a comet that had existed for seven billion years—a bit unusual, worth studying, but not an alien ship.
People’s enthusiasm for finding aliens cooled down once again.
The starry sky is far away; life is right in front of you.
Alien or not, office workers still have to go to work, and students still have to go to school.
In the military academy cafeteria, Old Li had complete trust in Lin Xiaohe. Not only did he hand all the vegetable-chopping over to her, he even wanted to teach her how to stir-fry.
Lin Xiaohe was deeply moved but politely declined. She was here to rest and recover, not to get sucked into the rat race.
Lin Xiaohe’s first ten-year plan was to save up some money, find a quiet patch of countryside, buy a house, farm a little land, and raise Doudou.
Maybe even Fanfan, Xinbao, Xiaohei, and the others could come find her.
After finishing the work on hand, Lin Xiaohe went to the backyard to water the plants.
Then she dragged a bamboo lounge chair into the corner of the yard, settled onto it, and let the warm sunshine wrap around her.
Happy times are always fleeting.
Lin Xiaohe found herself facing a group of uninvited guests.
“So you’re Lin Xiaohe? You look so young. You really are a genius—could you share your research approach with us?”
“Heh, I think she’s just fishing for fame. As for those research results, they’re definitely not hers. Young lady, I advise you to come clean and turn over a new leaf.”
“Oh, don’t say that. The future belongs to the young. We should give young people a chance. How about this—I’ll make the call. Let’s hold a seminar, everyone shares their views, and no one gets to pull rank based on seniority. Sound good?”
Lin Xiaohe opened her eyes and met a group of bright-eyed old men.
They had surrounded her, with tense, muscular security guards forming an outer ring.
Lin Xiaohe wasn’t the least bit provoked.
Ever since she learned that Blue Star was actually Jiuzhou Star, Lin Xiaohe’s tolerance for Blue Star humans had shot straight up. She felt rather like an ancestor looking down at a bunch of mischievous great-great-great-grandchildren.
Just like now—Lin Xiaohe saw right through these old men’s little schemes, and found it both amusing and endearing.
The first one started by giving her a little praise, then humbly asked for guidance, lowering his posture.
The second immediately raised doubts, stirring up hostility.
The third stepped in to smooth things over, using the moment to propose the real objective.
Three moves in a row—if Lin Xiaohe really were that young, twenty-something genius Lin Xiaohe, she might very well have walked right into the trap, knowing full well it was one.
But Lin Xiaohe wasn’t!
She had spent so long in the universe, had even personally terraformed Jiuzhou Star with her own hands—how could she possibly get angry over a few petty verbal provocations?
For a moment, the atmosphere turned eerily quiet.
The group, who had been so sure they held all the cards, found themselves inexplicably guilty under Lin Xiaohe’s infinitely tolerant gaze.
Old Yuan couldn’t help but shiver, muttering under his breath: “Unmoved by external things, emotionally stable, quite the air of a seasoned general—it’s just that look in her eyes…”
Another researcher chimed in: “Reminds me of my grandmother.”
“Exactly!”
But still—did that kind of look really belong on such a young face?
Lin Xiaohe picked up her thermos, stood up, and said: “Let’s go. We’ll find another place and have a proper talk.”
“Oh, oh, okay.”
Lin Xiaohe’s presence was so commanding that the moment she spoke, the group of scientists—average age over fifty—waddled after her like a brood of ducklings following their mother.
The quick-witted principal immediately sent people ahead to set up the meeting room, making sure these big and little ancestors could speak freely.
It wasn’t until everyone was sitting neatly in rows like elementary school students that they realized—how had the initiative ended up in Lin Xiaohe’s hands?
A relatively young researcher grumbled: “Ugh, I didn’t even get to say my lines. How did the progress bar move so fast?”
“I told you not to learn from short dramas. An episode is three minutes, and two and a half of those are random side characters yapping. In real life, who can be bothered to listen to that brain-dead dialogue? If it were me, I’d have turned around and walked away from the very first word.”
“You’re one to talk? Didn’t you assign yourself a villain side-character role too?”
“Uh… I just figured short dramas are super simple and crude when it comes to the whole ‘show off and slap faces’ thing—fast results! Who knew Lin Xiaohe would be as steady as a seventy or eighty-year-old?”
“Watch your mouth. That’s called ‘young but wise beyond years.'”
“Is there a difference?”
“Of course there is! ‘Young but wise beyond years’ is a compliment!”
Whispers filled the meeting room.
Lin Xiaohe cleared her throat, and the entire room went silent in an instant.
“Chinese people don’t deceive Chinese people. If you have questions, just ask.”
Huh?! That straightforward?
This made them—who had racked their brains, simulated every scenario, and even choreographed face-slapping plot lines—look absolutely childish!
Everyone looked at each other, hesitating. Finally, Old Yuan stepped forward and said sharply: “From what we understand, you shouldn’t have had the time or equipment to do research. So where did those results come from? Do you have a separate team?”
Everyone held their breath, their gazes drifting ever so slightly toward Lin Xiaohe’s face.
“I didn’t research them.”
Boom!
Those words struck like a thunderclap, making everyone’s scalp tingle. Lin Xiaohe just admitted it?! Weren’t you going to try to defend yourself at all??
Old Yuan pressed on: “Then who did the research? I can say with certainty that no such technology exists anywhere on the globe.”
“Hmm, that question does put me in a tough spot.” Drawing on her extraordinary memory, Lin Xiaohe pulled these antique technologies from the Federation database.
The database didn’t say who had invented or modified these technologies.
Old Yuan’s eyes dimmed slightly. He switched tactics: “Could you introduce us? We can offer the best conditions and treatment.”
“Not right now. Maybe someday.”
If the Arbiter could find Blue Star, they would certainly be very willing to have a conversation with the humans there.
Old Yuan looked at Lin Xiaohe with piercing eyes and asked point-blank: “What do you want? What do you people want?”
Handing over such important technology—there was no way there were no strings attached.
So go ahead, boldly state your conditions!
Lin Xiaohe lifted her eyelids and said seriously: “I hope Huaxia can unify the world as quickly as possible, pool all of humanity’s resources, develop technology, and become a starfaring civilization—so we can deal with alien civilizations that could arrive at any time.”
What?!
This answer completely exceeded everyone’s expectations.
Old Yuan was stunned for a moment, not knowing what to say.
It was Old Chen who sharply caught the implication in Lin Xiaohe’s words: “You believe there are alien civilizations, and that they harbor hostility toward Blue Star?”
“There definitely are. Besides, the Beautiful Country has already activated [Oracle], haven’t they? If there are alien civilizations in the Milky Way, Blue Star doesn’t have much time left.”
Given the speed at which [Oracle] was spreading through the universe, as long as an alien civilization had reached starfaring level, they could send a probe ship to Blue Star in three years at the fastest, ten at the slowest.
Old Chen’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His voice came out incredibly hoarse: “Why are you so sure?”
Lin Xiaohe said casually: “Because I’ve seen them.”
