The Local Recording Core

Mihe’s mother arrived in Gongdeng City that afternoon. Xu Linchuan waited outside South Lightgate Station for more than ten minutes. The two of them had met many times seven years ago. After that, all their contact had been through light screens. When she emerged from the public gate, Xu Linchuan recognized her at once. She only looked thinner in person than she did in remote images. She saw him too. “Teacher Xu.” “Was the journey all right?” “Mm.” After that, neither of them spoke. Road assistance personnel took them to the Chengjie Public Materials Review Center. The institution had no business ties to Qiheng, Farpost, or Old Northlight Market. It normally handled judicial preservation, historical disputes, and old devices requiring irreversible examination. Tang Yi had chosen it deliberately, so that every step involving the old ring from this point onward would be separate from the organizations whose names had already appeared. Lian Zhi was already there.

The two mothers’ first meeting was calmer than Xu Linchuan had imagined. Lian Zhi spoke first. “Hello.” Mihe’s mother looked at her for a moment, then past her. “The child didn’t come?” “Equipment class.” “That’s good.” After that, there was little they needed to say. The old ring sat inside a transparent preservation cabinet. After all the photographs, sealing, and cataloguing of the past few days, it was difficult to see it as an everyday object bought from the old market. The blue cloth, fastening clasp, crack, and edge of the maintenance cavity each had a small evidence marker beside it. Mihe’s mother stood before the cabinet for a while. “It’s still this one.” Lian Zhi said nothing. She only pushed her hands into her coat pockets. Materials engineer Shao Ling was responsible for opening it today.

Before touching any of the sealing material, she performed another nondestructive scan. The old ring was secured to the workbench, and its layered images unfolded little by little. There was indeed a thin chip inside the maintenance cavity, less than two finger-widths long and fixed against the inner wall. It had no independent power source and showed no active rule response. “We can’t read it without opening the cavity,” Shao Ling said. Lian Zhi asked, “Can it be put back together afterward?” “It can be resealed.” Shao Ling enlarged the image. “But the old sealing material will be preserved separately. Anyone examining it later will be able to tell when we opened it.” The outermost layer was sealing material aged over many years. Beneath it was another ring of flexible material, clearly newer. The maintenance cavity had been resealed at some point. Mihe’s mother asked when.