Alien Spaceship

"I'm afraid not." Chen Yandai shook his head.

"Why?" Little Bamboo Shoot froze.

"My dad... rarely shows himself. He gave me a card and puts ten million into it every month for spending money, telling me to take care of myself. There are also bodyguards and Machine Slaves following me around," Chen Yandai said. "I see him for less than twenty days a year. If he hasn't contacted you all these years, he probably won't agree to see you either."

Chen Yandai was very smart and had accurately judged the situation.

"Your father never shows himself and doesn't look after you either. What is he so busy with?" Little Bamboo Shoot frowned. "I haven't heard of any new inventions from him in recent years, either."

"I don't know. He has a secret laboratory in Lop Nur, deep in the desert. I only went there once, when I was four." Chen Yandai recalled, "That laboratory was empty. It was filled with paper."

"Paper?" Little Bamboo Shoot's frown deepened.

"Yes, all white paper. I don't know how many sheets there were—at least several hundred thousand, probably. Some were spread over the floor, some hung on the walls, and some dangled in the air. It was white everywhere." Chen Yandai said, "My dad sat among that pile of paper like a monk, completely motionless. Sometimes his eyes were open, sometimes closed, and his head was covered in sweat. He must have been engaged in some kind of intense thinking."

Little Bamboo Shoot was stunned and could not speak. She could not understand what had happened over the past eight years.

Eight years sounded short, but an elementary school student could enter university in that time. Wrinkles could appear on a young person's face. Some people died, while others were born.

According to biological