Chapter Twenty-Two

“Go back~?”

Wang Fei was a genuine fan of online novels, having read countless stories. He was a devoted follower of many authors and, back in the days a thousand years ago, had joined more than twenty different fan groups. Yet in every group, he was never an active member, always a silent lurker. He’d devoured every genre imaginable—space adventures, reincarnation, time travel, futuristic tales, mecha stories, you name it. He didn’t even skip the boys’ love stories adored by fujoshi.

Ever since Zhu Anfu had given him that enormous, unidentifiable fruit to eat, Wang Fei had been pondering where Zhu Anfu’s mysterious items came from. He mulled it over again and again, and the only plausible explanation he could come up with was some sort of dimensional space, or perhaps a magical pocket. He’d found nothing unusual on Zhu Anfu—certainly not in his clothing pockets. Wang Fei kept watching him, making Zhu Anfu visibly uncomfortable.

“Wang Fei, your partner is sitting right beside you. Would you mind not staring at me? I have no intention of stealing anyone away.” Zhu Anfu finally spoke up, unable to stand being watched any longer. If he hadn’t sensed that Wang Fei’s gaze lacked any malice, he wouldn’t have tolerated it this long.

“Anfu, can I ask you something?” Wang Fei moved closer, his face full of mystery.

Zhu Anfu raised an eyebrow, guessing what Wang Fei was about to ask, but his expression remained unchanged. “Go ahead.”

“You’re—” Wang Fei was just about to whisper in Zhu Anfu’s ear when Zhao Long yanked him back. “What’s with all the secrets? Sit properly.”

Yuchi Ankang also raised an eyebrow and pulled Zhu Anfu into his arms. Zhu Anfu smiled at Zhao Long’s antics, realizing he had never noticed just how close the two men were before. “Tell me, if you two were to go back, and your parents wanted you to get married and have a child before the apocalypse, what would you do? You know, back in our era, these kinds of marriages weren’t protected.”

“My family has two older brothers; otherwise, they wouldn’t have sent me to the army,” Wang Fei replied nonchalantly.

“I only had my grandmother, and she passed away the year before last. The neighbors took care of the funeral arrangements for me since I was away on a mission and couldn’t return. They waited until I got back, after confirming I was an astronaut, before telling me,” Zhao Long said calmly, though his grip on Wang Fei’s hand tightened. “What about you two?”

“We’re both orphans. Whether we have relatives or not makes little difference. We’re not like you; if you go back, you still have the military. We’re just ordinary people,” Zhu Anfu replied with a slight smile. “But it’s too early to talk about this. Who knows how long it will take for the scientists to finish their calculations for a return? And even if they do, I might not be able to go back. If we really could, wouldn’t people here worry that we might bring those from the past back with us? We’d be unwelcome then.”

“True. Sitting here discussing it is just needless worry,” Zhao Long said with a smile, though the desire to return was growing ever clearer in his heart.

After seeing Wang Fei and Zhao Long off, Zhu Anfu let out a sigh. Yuchi Ankang sent the robot to recharge while Zhu Anfu collapsed onto the bed. He could guess what Wang Fei wanted to ask, but he wasn’t able to tell him—not because he didn’t trust him, but because there were too many uncertainties. If he’d been asked before learning about the scientists’ research into returning, he might have said something, but not now. He hadn’t forgotten what Wang Fei and Zhao Long did for a living—they were soldiers, and to them, country and people always came first. If they really could go back and encountered people in need, would they save them or not? Zhu Anfu was not good at refusing a friend’s request, but was it even possible to save everyone? (*Is this a novel?)

History had proven that the Mars colonization plan was unworkable. After they disappeared, did the nation continue launching rockets? Where did those people go—to the future, or the past, or somewhere else? Zhu Anfu rubbed his forehead. “Ankang, I feel so foolish.”

“You’re already smart enough. Don’t think yourself foolish; you’re human, not a god,” Yuchi Ankang said, lying down beside Zhu Anfu and kissing his forehead, nose, and lips. “Don’t overthink it. There’s a saying—when the boat gets to the bridge, it’ll straighten itself out. For now, we can only take things one step at a time.” Zhu Anfu nodded. That was all they could do.

In fact, the scientists worked much faster than anyone expected. Yuchi Ankang had just finished learning about mecha design and construction and only touched briefly on repairs when they received a government summons—those from a thousand years ago were to attend a meeting.

Two years had passed since their arrival. Some had married, but none had children. Perhaps the government was quietly intervening; many had their requests to have children denied. When the people from the past gathered again, there was little warmth between them. Some knew more and kept silent, their faces grim. Zhu Anfu, Yuchi Ankang, Wang Fei, and Zhao Long sat together. Wang Fei and Zhao Long had both been promoted in the military and could now carry out missions with mecha independently.

Zhu Anfu’s writing had become increasingly smooth; he’d finished four long novels, two set in ancient times, one about an interstellar war, and another a grand mythical saga. His readership had grown, as had his number of haters. Occasionally, some trolls would pop up, but Zhu Anfu ignored them entirely. Since he’d started posting stories here, he’d rarely replied to comments, and readers were used to his laziness—yes, laziness. From the occasional behind-the-scenes stories he wrote, it was clear that Zhu Anfu did read the comments, both good and bad. He admitted to being very lazy and not good at communication. Reading the comments made him happy, but he never knew what to say in reply. At first, readers didn’t believe him, so they checked his old posts and found that, sure enough, his replies from a thousand years ago were usually just “hehe,” “haha,” or a random symbol. The fans found his goofy aloofness beyond words.

“Hello, everyone. I’m very pleased to see you all again,” an elderly, white-haired scientist greeted them excitedly. Few in the room shared his enthusiasm.

“I think all scientists must be insane. They could just live their lives and do their research in peace, but instead, they insist on messing around with this return business,” Wang Fei grumbled to Zhao Long in a low voice.

“Scientists’ brains are wired differently from normal people,” Zhao Long shrugged. He also thought the scientists had too much free time. Why go back now, after finally settling into a good life? What could they possibly change, save the world? What a joke! They weren’t superheroes, nor Ultramen fighting monsters.

“Through our research, we’ve found a way to go back, thanks to Hualong Nation’s technological support. They will provide rockets to send us off-trajectory. We can go home…” The scientist was visibly moved, but few in the room shared his excitement. They exchanged glances, then looked blankly at the scientist. Who would want to go back, especially to a world fallen into apocalypse? They’d been gone for two years—go back now? What would the world of a thousand years ago even look like?

“Scientist, what gives you the right to decide for us? Did any of us say we wanted to go back?”

“Scientist, can you guarantee we’ll make it back to a thousand years ago?”

“Scientist, if we do go back, who will guarantee our safety?”

“Scientist…”

No one wanted to return. After learning about the turmoil of a thousand years ago—the animal mutations, followed by human mutations, even the risk of war—why would they go back? Their lives here, though simple, were at least safe.

The four sat together in silence. They didn’t speak, knowing that after Hualong Nation’s leaders learned they could return, there was no way they would let them stay. Arguing was useless; better to use the time to negotiate for more benefits—ask if they could take their mecha, their household robots, or at least the solar charging panels. Otherwise, their return would be of little use. The laptops they used for study and record-keeping, though similar in appearance to the old ones, were vastly superior in speed and performance.

Still, it was just wishful thinking. While taking a laptop was possible, taking robots was out of the question. These robots were intelligent, and if brought back a thousand years, might be confiscated and dissected for research. After so much time together, they couldn’t bear that. The mecha, though, they might be able to bring. “Yuchi, if the mecha breaks down after we return, can you fix it?”

“If we have the tools and materials, I could give it a try,” Yuchi Ankang replied with hesitation, still unsure.

“If you had the materials, could you assemble a new mecha?” Having a mecha would at least give them some security, a fighting chance against mutant animals.

Yuchi Ankang fell silent, suddenly feeling like he was being cast as a savior. “If they let us take our study laptops, that won’t be difficult at all.” Even if they didn’t, they had ways to smuggle them.

The meeting was fruitless. The four grew even more silent when Hualong Nation’s officials appeared. But when they learned they could leave with their mecha, Wang Fei and Zhao Long high-fived under the table.

Returning to their quarters, they were surprised to be visited once more by someone from the Zhou Hu family. Yuchi Ankang and Zhu Anfu watched the visitor in silence.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure your house is kept for you. Don’t ask why; I don’t know either. It’s family tradition. You can take whatever you want from home, just remember to bring it back.”

Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang glanced at each other and then at the departing figure. What did this mean?