Chapter 29: Wrath Upon Wrath

A place with no one around? Hong Xiaoduo looked around, but could not find a suitable spot.

This location was the closest to the inn, so she immediately led the seven children and hurried back. She had initially thought about letting Tian Shu take the other children for a stroll on the street, but she felt a bit uneasy about it, so she decided to bring everyone back.

"Keep an eye on the door for me, and don't let anyone in," she instructed Tian Shu once they reached the dormitory room they had stayed in the night before.

Although he did not know why she had suddenly returned, Tian Shu sensed that his mother was in a hurry, so he nodded quickly in agreement.

Since she was unsure when the travel permits would be finalized, she had not checked out of the dormitory room that morning. Once inside, she still felt uneasy and bolted the door.

She walked a few steps further into the room, putting as much distance between herself and the door as possible, and with a focused thought, she instantly entered the "space."

The space remained empty. The moment she arrived, a screen appeared on the wall opposite her, and immediately, the old man with glasses appeared on it.

"Hong Xiaoduo, you..."

"Stop right there. Tell me first, can you control the duration of our calls now?" Hong Xiaoduo interrupted him, asking directly.

The old man on the screen shook his head: "You should listen to me first..."

"Since you can't control it, you'd better listen to me first; otherwise, I won't listen to anything you say." Forced into a corner, she resorted to threats.

Seeing how determined she was, the old man on the screen became annoyed, his eyes nearly blazing with fire. Finally, he gritted his teeth and nodded in helpless compromise: "Go ahead."

"First, tell me how things are with my family," Hong Xiaoduo pressed, getting straight to the point.

Since the old man admitted he could not control the call duration, time was tight, and she had no time to lecture him on the illegality of his actions.

When the old curator heard her question, he was visibly surprised. He paused for a moment before replying: "Your family is doing very well, don't worry. You were the only daughter of your parents. Your father is the president of a private company, and your mother is the deputy manager of a large local supermarket."

Upon hearing this, Hong Xiaoduo thought: "Doing very well?" She had lost contact with them—did they not notice? Were they not worried? Or had this old man used some means to deceive them?

"Your parents divorced the year you were admitted to university. You didn't stay with either of them and established your own household. Now, your father has a good relationship with his current wife; they have two children and are planning for a third."

"As for your mother, she married the president of a listed company and is also pregnant with her second child. Her current husband is a bit of a flirt, so outside of work, your mother spends most of her time getting skin treatments at beauty salons, practicing prenatal yoga at yoga studios, and learning flower arranging, tea ceremony, and calligraphy."

"So, you don't need to worry about them," the old curator said, choosing to share the key points he had gathered.

Hearing this detailed addition, Hong Xiaoduo felt somewhat dazed.

So, this was what it meant for her parents to be doing "very well"? It meant they were living comfortable lives and their focus was entirely on their new partners and families? They had no time to care about her, their daughter?

"You aren't just making this up to trick me into doing things for you, are you?" Why was it so hard to believe? "I hate being lied to more than anything," she warned fiercely.

If he were truly lying to her, she would never cooperate with anything he asked.

It was not that she was overly suspicious or hard to fool, but she had analyzed herself over the past few days and felt that she had a good personality, which should have been the result of a harmonious and loving family.

Yet, this old man was telling her that her parents had divorced and each had their own new families of four or five people.

"I swear, all of this is the truth. I spent a fortune hiring private detectives to investigate. Also, your amnesia wasn't something we intentionally designed; it was likely caused by the space-time magnetic pulse, and it should be temporary."

"Perhaps your memory will return one day. If I were lying to you, it would eventually come out, and you would be angry then, too," the old curator said, holding up his fingers and swearing quite solemnly and seriously.

He didn't even bother to remind her to hurry up anymore. When he had told her about her family situation—that her parents were divorced and she had become independent—it reminded him that this young lady was a person of strong will and independence.

"Hong Xiaoduo? Miss Hong? Is there anything else you want to ask?" Seeing her remain silent for a long time, the old curator asked tentatively.

The old man's voice pulled Hong Xiaoduo back from her melancholy. "Yes. I have a sword at my waist, so I must have some martial arts skills. Just what is my combat level? How many people can I take on in a real fight?"

"This?" The old curator could not answer.

"Don't tell me you don't know. Didn't you develop and research this program?" Hong Xiaoduo was already in a bad mood, and her tone was sharp.

She wasn't even sure if her ability to throw stones with perfect accuracy was a skill or if she truly possessed martial arts.

After all, until today, even with her hand on the hilt of the sword, she felt no inclination toward using it.

She liked watching stories about swordswomen, but watching was different from reality. In her mind, there were faint images of taking martial arts classes in elementary school—kicking was tiring, stretching was painful, and the coach was fierce—but she could not remember anything more.

The old curator on the screen stiffened his neck, sounding a bit lacking in confidence: "This program wasn't entirely made by me. It started with my grandfather, and my father added to and perfected it later. I just happened to be the lucky one who waited for someone like you who met all the requirements."

Hong Xiaoduo felt even more depressed. My God, three generations of them spent their time on this cross-temporal experience chamber, just waiting for a poor sap like her to walk into their trap?

"If you didn't research it, it's impossible that there are no original records to check! And what exactly is your goal in doing all this and sending me here?" Hong Xiaoduo asked, suppressing her anger.

She felt that this was something the old man wanted to say himself.

But what was that look on the old man's face on the screen? Why did he look so guilty, not even daring to meet her eyes?

"Hey, don't tell me you don't know! If you don't know anything, then why did you bring me here? Just for fun?" Hong Xiaoduo was getting desperate.

The old curator scratched his sparse, Mediterranean-style hairline and said uncomfortably: "The original records exist, but I can't look at them for the time being because my father set a password and didn't tell me."

Upon hearing this, Hong Xiaoduo had a very bad premonition: "Is your father... suffering from dementia? Or has he passed away?"

"Cough, cough, it's neither. He said he had devoted most of his life to this research in accordance with his father's wishes, and he was tired. He said I was capable of standing on my own, so he handed the responsibility over to me."

"He went on a trip around the world. He didn't tell me the password when he left, saying that I would have a greater sense of achievement if I decrypted it myself."

Listening to the old curator's embarrassed explanation, Hong Xiaoduo struggled to keep from swearing. "No, is your father that rebellious? And since you don't even know the ultimate purpose of this cross-temporal experience chamber project, why did you lure me here?"

"Do you think I'm the 'chosen one,' smart, and therefore you're letting me figure out the answers for myself here?"