Chapter 1235: Chapter 57 The Real An Qing (Extra chapter for monthly votes!)

It’s finally been created!

The final masterpiece of Emperor Gao Wen–Lin Xian has waited far too long for this.

But…

After the brief rush of excitement and joy, what followed was disappointment.

Since Liu Feng didn’t call…

It’s highly likely that the numbers on the Space-Time Clock haven’t changed, and world lines still haven’t leapt.

This is just too difficult.

In this round of The Ninth Dreamland–0.0001764 world line–it’s just too stubborn… Lin Xian has exhausted every last ounce of effort, yet still failed to break through Space-Time Elasticity.

Now, the resources and options truly have run dry.

“Wait for me at the lab. I’ll be there right away.”

After giving these instructions, Lin Xian hung up the call and immediately dialed Liu Feng’s number.

“Hello?”

The call quickly connected, Liu Feng’s end sounding entirely devoid of emotion.

“Are you in the lab?” Lin Xian asked.

“Of course I am!”

Liu Feng answered matter-of-factly:

“Where else could I be but the lab? Whenever you call, it’s never for anything else… I’ll go take a look then.”

After speaking, short bursts of footsteps were heard through the phone as Liu Feng walked over to glance at the Space-Time Clock:

“No change. Still the same numbers.”

Sigh.

Lin Xian softly exhaled:

“Du Yao said she’s successfully built the Neural Electrocution Helmet. She’s always been meticulous and rigorous, so if she says it’s complete, it’s definitely been tested. But… even with such an extraordinary invention, the world line hasn’t leapt.”

“I’m hanging up then. I’m heading to Du Yao’s place to check it out.”

Beep.

As the call ended, Lin Xian looked toward Zhao Yingjun:

“That’s it–all cards on the table. We’ve run out of any means to rewrite the future… In the Ninth Dreamland, the only person I could find was a failed novelist. Who knows if the Neural Electrocution Helmet can help her recover memories that might have value.”

“If it’s 2025 now and Du Yao’s already successfully developed the Neural Electrocution Helmet, then by 2624, in the Underground Hibernation Base, there should definitely be finished models. After all, with something this convenient, humanity wouldn’t have to rely on Memory Notebooks or memory video logs anymore.”

Zhao Yingjun nodded:

“Then you should go check things out with Du Yao first. Tomorrow morning, let’s meet Chu Shanhe together. That won’t interfere with your noon return to the dream, where you plan to perform electrotherapy on that failed novelist.”

“But aren’t we meeting the obstetrician tomorrow afternoon?”

Lin Xian replied:

“She’s a specialist brought over specifically from the Imperial Capital. It’s the last maternity leave check-up–I’m hoping she gives you a proper examination. The appointment is for the afternoon, I’ll accompany you.”

Yet…

Zhao Yingjun shook her head and chuckled:

“I know how to prioritize. At such a critical moment, if we can truly extract any key information from that girl named Maima, we might still be able to alter the future.”

“So, don’t worry about me. It’s just a prenatal check-up–I can handle it on my own. Besides, there’ll be a driver taking me.”

“Alright.”

Lin Xian was indeed eager to test things in the dream:

“Then get some early rest. I’ll head over to Du Yao’s research facility now.”

…

It was already 10 o’clock at night, the sky full of stars.

Lin Xian left Zhao Yingjun’s house and got into the car driven by Xiao Li, making his way to the research lab.

As soon as he entered, he saw Du Yao.

The two walked through the passageway together while chatting.

“I owe it all to that conversation with you at Tang Xin’s grave that day.”

Du Yao turned to him and said:

“You gave me extraordinary inspiration. Using that idea, I triggered stimuli in both the brain’s memory and emotional regions. Sure enough, I detected a signal resembling feedback… Then, following your blueprint step-by-step, I managed to build the Neural Electrocution Helmet.”

She pushed open the doors to one of the labs and led Lin Xian inside.

The lab was empty of people, and Du Yao explained that she’d only recruited four PhD assistant researchers, but hadn’t assigned any core responsibilities to them, so the helmet remained confidential–no outsiders knew about its existence.

Lin Xian looked at the table.

On it sat a mechanical device resembling an “Octopus.” Its design differed slightly from the imagined helmet form but clearly hinted at its intended use–which was to fasten this “Octopus” onto the head.

He picked it up and weighed it–it was quite heavy.

“What powers this thing?” Lin Xian asked.

Du Yao pointed at the nearby power cord:

“It runs directly on 220V household power. If you want, it can be adapted for battery operation, but that’s an engineering challenge–I’m not skilled in that field.”

Lin Xian nodded.

Battery operation would suffice.

Fitting it with Miniature Nuclear Batteries or slightly larger ones later could solve portability issues, while ensuring long-term preservation–ideal for storage in the Underground Hibernation Base.

“How is this used? Is it complicated?”

“Not at all.”

Du Yao pointed at the single button in the helmet’s center:

“It’s completely foolproof. You just fasten the lower parts securely. Your blueprint incorporates a brilliant design for automatic adjustments to electroshock positioning–it’s truly remarkable.”

“Could I… try it?”

Lin Xian inquired.

“Better not.”

Du Yao smiled warmly:

“First, why did I say fastening is necessary? It’s because the experience of being electroshocked by this device is very unpleasant. Resistance or violent convulsions are inevitable. When using it on long-term hibernators in the future, I believe they’ll need to wear restraining chairs simultaneously.”

“Second, you don’t suffer from hibernation-induced amnesia, so usage wouldn’t yield any effects. If you’re hoping to recover naturally forgotten memories through it… best forget that idea–it’s impossible.”