BG said today was a good day since December 24th was Christmas Eve—it sounded like a good omen. Going out on Christmas Eve, how could one not return safely?

“Teacher’s blessing,” Banxia pressed her palms together and closed her eyes, murmuring, “Bless me to return safely.”

Opening her eyes, she pulled out her pocket watch and checked the time.

Six-thirty in the afternoon.

She was waiting. The official operation time was seven o’clock—still thirty minutes away. During this gap, she could perform one final equipment check.

Unlike previous outings, this mission to the First or Second Base required minimal equipment and traveling light. She wore pants, a sweater, a jacket, and tactical gear. Her backpack contained a water bladder, dried rations, maps, a raincoat, and medical supplies. For defense, she carried only a handgun and knife. The entire loadout weighed less than three kilograms, allowing Banxia to run long distances, climb, and squeeze through narrow gaps easily. BG had reminded her that for this operation, stealth was paramount—maintain complete concealment throughout, don’t be reckless, better to be slow but steady.

Nanjing was big enough; hiding one small girl would be easy.

The girl tied her hair up in front of the mirror. The person reflected appeared somewhat haggard, her face thinner, with noticeable dark circles under her eyes. Perhaps it was the recent work pressure, along with constant fear—never knowing when that big eye might suddenly appear outside the window. The days were truly difficult to endure. Banxia bent down toward the mirror, pulled down her lower eyelid, stuck out her tongue, and made a face. She could see the bloodshot vessels in her eyes.

Banxia let out a quiet sigh.

She washed her face with cold water to clear her mind, then leaned back on the sofa to rest.

Thirty minutes until the operation.

Now let’s turn back time twenty years.

Back to December 24, 2019, at six-thirty in the afternoon.

The massive support team had entered full combat readiness, with Zhao Bowen commanding from headquarters.

“This is 03, all unit’s attention, now conducting final system check before the operation, is over.”

“Team One reporting, Zheng Lun telemetry satellite’s final pre-operation flyover of target area entering one-minute countdown. Data transmission link normal. Purple Mountain Communication Center data distribution, Guizhou and Beijing dual redundancy backup, over.”

“Team Two reporting, full workflow triple rehearsal complete, disaster recovery backup test normal, over.”

“Team Three reporting, firewall repair complete, security engineering team standing by, over.”

“This is 02, all units attention, operation countdown thirty minutes, over.”

“This is 01, all units attention, operation countdown thirty minutes, over.”

Before the operation began, the synthetic aperture radar telemetry satellite would make its final pass over Nanjing City, illuminating the path ahead for the girl. This would be the last and most recent intelligence the command center could receive before the plan launched. Once the operation started, Banxia would remove the handheld radio from the Yagi antenna and switch the Icom 725 amateur radio’s data link to the remote communication control system. They would lose contact with the relay satellite.

“Zheng Lun telemetry satellite’s final pre-operation flyover of target area entering thirty-second countdown.”

“Ten-second countdown.”

“Five seconds.”

“Three seconds.”

The satellite control center was counting down.

After the countdown reached zero, the hall fell silent. For modern people, that satellite was essentially operating in a black box.

A black box constructed by time, capable of isolating everything.

It was in another world, in orbit hundreds of kilometers above the ground, deploying its ten-meter synthetic aperture radar antenna, quietly scanning Nanjing’s Qinhuai District.

The scan data was simultaneously transmitted to the relay satellite, which filtered and compressed it before downlinking it to the Icom 725 amateur radio. At the radio stage, it completed its space-time jump, then traveled through fiber optics from Baiyang’s bedroom to the Purple Mountain Communication Center. The center handled data distribution, with Guizhou and Beijing data centers providing geographically separated disaster recovery backup. The computer team processing images and image interpretation experts at Zhejiang University stood ready.

With Nanjing at its center, this was a massive network covering the entire country, from Nanjing to Guizhou to Beijing to Hangzhou. Though each link crossed mountains and waters, every step was transmitted at light speed. Data traveled through fiber optics at 300,000 kilometers per second. The nearly 300 kilometers from Nanjing to Hangzhou took only 0.002 seconds for communications data to make a round trip.

“This is 02, all units attention, operation countdown twenty minutes, over.”

“This is 01, all units attention, operation countdown twenty minutes, over.”

“This is 03, have you received the telemetry data? Over.”

“Satellite telemetry data currently receiving, over.”

Zhao Bowen stood by the coffee table, holding the walkie-talkie. Bai Zhen and Wang Ning sat on the sofa to his left and right, one monitoring the electromagnetic environment and spectrum data, the other monitoring the servers.

“Is Yangyang ready?” Old Zhao turned to ask.

Lianqiao leaned against Baiyang’s bedroom doorframe, raising her hand to give an OK sign.

Baiyang sat in his room wearing headphones, fingering a Morse code practice coin, tapping it against the table. The headquarters’ battle-ready atmosphere had made him nervous too. Baiyang was someone easily affected by the atmosphere. He rubbed his eyes hard, his face showing undisguisable fatigue.

“Are you okay?” Lianqiao asked.

“I’m fine,” Baiyang said. “It’s just that this tension has been constant for too long. The pressure is a bit much, and I can’t sleep at night.”

“Want me to give you a massage?”

“Please spare me, Sister Qiao. I really can’t handle your Nine Yin White Bone Claw,” Baiyang quickly refused. “You massage like you’re plucking a chicken.”

“What massage doesn’t hurt?”

“They all hurt, but some are massages, and some are torture,” Baiyang leaned back in his chair, tilting his head up and speaking slowly. “My spirit has already endured tremendous torment, so please don’t torment my flesh as well.”

“Do you want some melatonin?” Lianqiao asked. “It helps with sleep.”

Baiyang shook his head.

Voices in the living room rose and fell.

“Purple Mountain Communication Center, telemetry data reception complete!”

“Data recovery in progress!”

“Analyzing and interpreting! Interpreting now!”

“This is 02, all units attention, operation countdown ten minutes, over.”

“This is 01, all units attention, operation countdown ten minutes, over.”

Zhao Bowen’s palms were sweating.

Racing against time.

“All units attention, operation countdown five minutes, over.”

“Interpreting telemetry images!”

“Interpreting now!”

“Interpreting now!”

Old Zhao said nothing, waiting for results, waiting for the image interpretation expert team to deliver their findings. He needed to know where that damned big eye was at this exact moment twenty years later.

“All units attention, operation countdown three minutes, over.”

“Data link switch preparation, countdown synchronized, over.”

“Found it!”

Old Zhao suddenly jolted.

“We found it! This is the telemetry data analysis team! Command, we’ve found it! Now reporting position! Time coordinates December 24, 2040, 18:41, spatial coordinates 118.7915° East, 32.0470° North, it’s on the roof of the Xinbai Building!”

Twenty years later.

The girl resting on the sofa opened her eyes and checked her pocket watch—six fifty-five, time to move. She turned and entered the room, unplugged all the lines from the 725 radio’s microphone jack, connected the relay station instead, switched the communication link to the remote communication system, and finally climbed to the roof to remove the handheld radio from the Yagi antenna.

One final time check: exactly seven o’clock.

“BG4MXH, this is BG4MSR, can you hear me?” Banxia spoke into the handheld radio.

“Received, this is BG4MXH. Now reporting the big eye’s exact location as of just now: it’s on the roof of the Xinbai Building at Xinjiekou. We recommend you take route two to the First Base, avoiding the Xinjiekou area, OVER.”

“Okay.”

Banxia crouched down and playfully flicked Old Yellow’s forehead.

“Old Yellow, I’m heading out. You watch the house.”

Then she stood up to bid farewell to her parents:

“Mom, Dad, I’m going out! I might not be back tonight. Please take care of Yellow… never mind, he can take care of himself.”