Given the multi-day duration of the Gaokao exams, the invigilators' inspection rounds were infrequent, resulting in a high success rate.

If the ancients could achieve it, it was certainly true for the Atlanteans, who possessed a highly advanced civilization long ago.

A magnifying glass is an essential tool for the elderly, particularly in a household like the Rabinovichs', with its vast library; they were bound to have one.

Flipping through the drawers, we quickly located a magnifying glass crafted from an ox bone.

Ignoring the cold night air, the two of us lit a candle and began our examination.

However, the secrets hidden beneath the surface were clearly not obvious; after searching for a long time, we found nothing.

At this point, Nie Chuan set down the transparent bead and said strangely, "Logically, the Atlanteans wouldn't be so careless as to make the hidden secret on this bead so difficult for us to find after all our efforts."

I nodded and replied, "Indeed. The fact that they concealed it so meticulously suggests they feared the bead falling into enemy hands."

Nie Chuan added, "If they intended to convey information via this object, they would have certainly provided the method to reveal the secret. If they didn't tell you, then unless..."

"Unless what?" I asked urgently.

"Unless there is a specific circumstance where the bead reveals its secret easily in our hands, but is utterly impossible for the enemy to decipher," Nie Chuan stated.

I felt his reasoning held water, yet it was baffling, as achieving such a level of specific concealment would require intimate knowledge of us.

For example, knowing that I neglect bathing, and that the secret would only emerge when the surface was saturated with sweat.

But how could the Atlanteans know about my poor hygiene habits?

Suddenly, it struck me: the thing attached to me must know the method to unlock the secret on the glass bead.

However, I certainly couldn't summon it in front of Nie Chuan, so I just said, "I think you should get some more rest. Even though I'm wide awake, it's only two or three in the morning. Are you sure you don't want to sleep a bit longer?"

Nie Chuan yawned and replied, "Alright, I'll have more energy to research after a good sleep. There's no rush now."

With that, Nie Chuan returned to the ** to sleep.

Seeing that he was asleep, I let out a breath, quietly pulled on my clothes, and headed for the lavatory.

In truth, I wasn't going to relieve myself; I just wanted to forcibly detach the entity clinging to me.

In the lavatory, I tugged at my own skin and pulled at my beard until my face felt hot and sore, but the thing would not detach.

Feeling helpless, I muttered to myself, "Could it have fallen asleep?"

But then I realized that was wrong; even if it were asleep, it shouldn't withstand my efforts.

Afterward, I started talking to the entity in the lavatory like a lunatic, demanding it show itself, but to no avail.

After agonizing over it for half an hour, I grew discouraged, wondering if everything that had happened was an illusion or if I was still dreaming.

Dejectedly, I left the lavatory and walked toward the room, feeling as though I had been played for a fool.

Walking forward with a heavy heart, I suddenly noticed what seemed to be footsteps coming from the abandoned room I had previously peered into.

I initially thought I had misheard, perhaps footsteps from another room.

But when I pressed my ear close to the door and listened intently, I confirmed there were indeed footsteps.

It sounded like more than one person—perhaps two or more.

They were moving quietly, but with a distinct rhythm, pausing every few steps, as if tidying the room or perhaps performing some kind of routine exercise.

After listening for a while, I brought my eye close to the crack in the door, but I couldn't see anything.

"Strange..." I murmured to myself.

The room wasn't large, and it was pitch dark inside. If someone was pacing back and forth every five or six steps, I should certainly have caught a glimpse of a silhouette.

Furthermore, no light was on in the room. Who would be moving around inside continuously?

Unless...

I shook my head, because all my previous theories about ghosts had been systematically proven impossible.

Even though I had now seen alleged aliens, I still refused to believe in the existence of actual ghosts in this world.

After a moment's thought, I scurried back to the room.

Nie Chuan was now sound asleep, snoring loudly.

I crept over to him, found the flashlight he kept with him, and then returned to the door of that room.

I examined the flashlight, shone its beam through the crack in the door, and then pressed my eye against another fissure.

By this time, I noticed the footsteps inside had ceased.

Looking through the beam of light, I saw that the furniture inside was arranged neatly, just as before, but everything was draped with a sheet of gray cloth, thickly layered with dust.

I observed the deep layer of dust on the floor and noted a distinct lack of footprints showing anyone had walked across it.

This made me even more perplexed, wondering if I had imagined the sound.

Just as I was about to turn back to sleep, I noticed the black cloth covering a framed photograph hanging on the wall was fluttering gently in a nonexistent breeze.

Yet, the photograph itself remained thickly coated in dust, obscuring the faces of the people within.

Had someone opened a window?

I knew this room, like mine, had a window.

But this room was strictly controlled by Mr. and Mrs. Rabinovich, who forbade strangers from approaching it; they certainly wouldn't make the rookie mistake of leaving a window open.

Unless someone had opened the window from the outside and entered the room just moments ago.

As I had this thought, I suddenly saw a hand shoot out quickly, sweeping across the surface of the photograph, wiping away the dust.

I didn't have time to register where the hand came from, because the people in the photo instantly stunned me into silence.

It was a picture of the village elder and Mrs. Rabinovich, smiling sweetly, leaning closely together, and standing between them was a fair-haired, blue-eyed young Russian man.

The appearance of this young man reminded me of the photograph found in the dilapidated engine room on the second basement level of Durban Island.

In that photo, only half the face of one of the two young men was visible.

At the time, I couldn't recall who that half-face belonged to, but now, it was perfectly clear.

This person was the Rabinovichs' son, the undercover police officer BEY.

Why was BEY's picture in the wreckage of the engine room in the ruins? And positioned as a pilot?

I couldn't make sense of it, nor could I recall anything to explain it.

In what felt like three seconds, I processed all these thoughts, and then I refocused my attention on the hand from before.

I was tempted to smash the door down, but making such a commotion in the middle of the night would certainly draw everyone's attention.

Since this individual likely entered through the window, I could catch them red-handed by circling around to the back window.

I knew this thought was rather naive, as they surely would have noticed the beam of my flashlight, and by the time I arrived, the person would have already fled.

Indeed, when I slipped out of my own room's window, I saw that the window of that room was still open.

I shone my flashlight inside and saw it was empty; looking out into the wilderness, I couldn't spot any figures either.

I cursed under my breath, feeling deflated.

However, I remained intensely curious about that photograph, so I seized a moment when no one was paying attention and climbed through the window into the room.

Once inside, I realized there were footprints on the floor, but they only circled the area near the window, focused on a large wardrobe and a dressing table leaning against the wall.

This was because I saw that the black cloths covering these two pieces of furniture had been pulled off.

Upon closer inspection, the contents of both cabinets had been rifled through and left in disarray.

But this person was clearly not a thief, as a string of pearls and an old-fashioned gold watch, both valuable items, remained untouched in the drawers.

This person must have been searching for something specific. But what exactly?

I continued turning over drawers and suddenly discovered a very old notebook bound in cowhide.

I don't normally have the habit of prying into others' private affairs, but this notebook had been flipped open by the previous visitor, and on the exposed page, the words read: "Masha, Chakoff, true love forever."

At first, seeing those two names, I couldn't quite place them.

But then, a cold sweat broke out across my forehead.

Because those two names were the names of the two dead people we encountered in the elevator when we were beneath Lop Nur.

That couple had engraved their names on a silver ring that we had seen!

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