Chapter Twenty-Eight: Old Lu’s Legacy (Part One)
National Security Bureau, the highest-level encrypted video conference room.
The atmosphere was as heavy as a block of lead.
On the enormous screen, more than a dozen windows were split, each containing a solemn face—each enough to send tremors through the entire political arena of Donghai City.
Director Wang sat at the head seat.
And Xiao Ran stood alone in the center of the conference room, bearing the scrutinizing gazes from every window.
She had just finished her report.
Every detail of the shocking deduction she and Lin Feng had jointly pieced together in the safe house—about the “charity auction” and the “Dutch classical painting”—was presented before these powerful figures, word for word.
A long silence followed.
At last, an elder with stars on his shoulder slowly spoke, his voice resonant and commanding.
“Comrade Xiao Ran, I have just one question for you.”
“Beyond that fragment of the dubious, unverifiable ‘hacker log,’ do you have any... direct evidence pointing to the painting, or the Israeli delegation?”
The question struck like a blade to the heart.
Xiao Ran straightened her back, her gaze unwavering.
“Reporting, sir,” she replied, her voice clear, calm, and resolute. “No, I do not.”
A wave of suppressed unease stirred through the room.
“I admit, this is a prediction fraught with risk,” Xiao Ran continued, her voice rising, brimming with unshakable confidence. “But we are not facing an ordinary criminal who acts according to convention. He is a ‘theatrical personality’—an artist! Conventional chains of evidence are useless against him. We must... use his ‘art’ to anticipate his actions!”
She analyzed Old Lu’s log on “art trade” like a top-tier criminal psychological profile: precise, calm, methodical.
Her expertise, her certainty, the fire in her eyes, slowly infected everyone present.
At last, Director Wang slowly removed his reading glasses, rubbing his weary eyes.
He gazed at the screen, at the student who had grown into someone capable of standing alone, his pride and sigh mingling in a long breath.
“I agree with Comrade Xiao Ran’s judgment,” he declared, final and absolute.
Then, with a stern look, he addressed her.
“I grant you a ‘limited authorization.’”
“You may establish the highest level of surveillance at the auction site. You may conduct contactless monitoring of all suspicious individuals.”
“But,” his voice grew cold as steel, “until you obtain direct physical evidence—until the transaction is complete and both person and contraband are caught in the act—under no circumstances may you act rashly!”
“If your misjudgment triggers a diplomatic crisis...”
“...Xiao Ran, you know the consequences.”
“Yes, sir!” Xiao Ran snapped to attention, delivering a flawless salute. “I guarantee the completion of the mission!”
...
The meeting concluded.
A frantic, race-against-time war deployment began.
The entire “Shadow Bureau” task force, once nearly paralyzed by internal betrayal, now operated under Xiao Ran’s command at an unprecedented, terrifying efficiency—like a war machine roaring back to life.
---
[Xiao Ran’s “Battlefield of Reality”]
Scene One: In the command center, a massive electronic sand table displayed a 3D model of the “Pujiang International Art Center,” the auction site. Xiao Ran and the deputy captain of the tactical team repeatedly rehearsed every possible security flaw and assault route.
Scene Two: At the Customs Headquarters, within a confidential archives room. Xiao Ran secretly met an old friend—the director of anti-smuggling. Together, they reviewed all X-ray scans and inspection reports for Rembrandt’s “The Storm on the Sea of Galilee” as it entered from the Netherlands.
Scene Three: Across from the hotel where the Israeli delegation stayed, inside a van disguised as “pipeline maintenance.” Several elite field agents used high-powered laser listening devices and telephoto cameras for “contactless” 24-hour surveillance of every delegate.
In the real world, an invisible net was quietly being cast.
Lin Feng’s “Digital Battlefield”
Meanwhile, in the “Singularity Security” studio, tranquility reigned as if on an isolated island.
Lin Feng did not participate in the tense deployments outside. He simply sat quietly at his computer, staring at the screen, at the decrypted logs belonging to Old Lu.
A persistent unease gnawed at him.
Old Lu, you’re a warrior, not a psychologist. You didn’t leave these merely to analyze his personality...
There must be something else...
There had to be...
Lin Feng’s gaze, sharp as a high-precision scanner, searched line by line, word by word through the vast ocean of code and logs.
At last!
He discovered a segment protected by a vicious, self-destructive “data bomb”—the highest level of encrypted log!
His previous decryption had skirted around it, never touching it.
He knew such “data bombs” allowed only a single chance. One failure, and all information would instantly turn to meaningless gibberish, vanished for good.
“Mouse,” he said, voice laden with gravity, “activate ‘God Mode.’ Focus all computing power here. We’re... defusing the bomb.”
“Roger, boss!” Mouse’s usually playful voice now carried a hint of tension. “‘Hive’ defense matrix activated! Anti-logic traps deployed! Good luck to us!”
For the next hour, Lin Feng worked like a top-tier bomb disposal expert walking a tightrope over a chasm.
Every keystroke was cautious, every step as if on thin ice.
On screen, the countdown of the code-constructed “data bomb” flashed wildly.
He had to find the one correct “wire” to cut before time ran out.
Xiao Ran’s holographic projection appeared in the studio. She said nothing, merely stood quietly aside, watching the man racing against death, her palms slick with cold sweat.
“Found it!”
With only three seconds left on the clock!
A fierce gleam burst in Lin Feng’s eyes.
He slammed the Enter key!
The looming “data bomb,” its threatening red glare, instantly faded, turning docile and harmless.
---
Success!
The core log sealed for five years was finally opened.
Yet inside, there were no words.
Instead—a “battle recording” composed entirely of pure data streams!
...
On screen, time rewound.
Countless codes and data rapidly reorganized and reassembled.
Five years ago, that stormy night.
The stifling, humid underground server room, echoing with the desperate cries of machines, was perfectly recreated before them in a “digital twin.”
For the first time, Lin Feng, from a “God’s-eye view,” saw with his own eyes the battle that changed his life.
He saw his younger, reckless self making clumsy counterattacks under Old Lu’s protection.
He saw his mentor, the rock-solid man, facing alone the tsunami-like network attacks flooding in from all over the world, after “Sky Net” had severed all support.
He saw Old Lu, after entering the final defense command, the bloodshot eyes revealing a tragic, heroic smile.
He saw Old Lu, right before activating the “Zero Protocol” to go down fighting with all enemies, make a covert, seemingly erroneous move—a tiny, disguised “redundant data packet” of only 1KB sent to the attack source.
At the time, young Lin Feng had taken it as a last, desperate, failed counterstrike.
But now...
As an observer, reviewing this “mistake” anew...
A bolt of creation struck his brilliant mind.
He understood!
He understood everything!
“That wasn’t a mistake...”
Lin Feng gazed at the familiar silhouette about to be engulfed by the electric white light, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face.
“That wasn’t a mistake!”
He leapt to his feet, facing the screen, voice trembling with a mix of sobs and wild joy, shouting:
“Old fox... you old fox!”
“You weren’t seeking death!”
“You were... planting something in the enemy’s, in Ouroboros’s core program...”
“...a seed, that would take root and sprout five years later...”