LBNL, Qingmu recalled, is the acronym for " Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory," and 19 likely refers to the laboratory number.
LBNL is one of the world's most outstanding laboratories, affiliated with the United States Department of Energy. It has produced numerous Nobel Prize, boasts over 70 academicians, and provided experimental support for the development of the first atomic and hydrogen bombs.
It comprises 18 laboratories and research centers, covering multiple disciplines including high-energy physics, earth science, environmental science, computer science, energy science, and materials science.
Besides that, there's the most mysterious Lawrence Laboratory No. 19.
Qingmu stepped to the door.
The guard outside the door did not stop Huo from asking questions; instead, he stood at attention and saluted, clearly recognizing him. Huo placed his palm on the instrument by the door and brought his eyes close to the iris scanner. After a short while, a beep indicated that he had passed.
He pushed open the door and entered, skillfully navigating the labyrinthine underground passage, passing through numerous doors, until he finally arrived at a brightly lit room.
He saw a person lying on the experimental table, with many dexterous robotic arms stitching up the wound on the back of the person's neck.
A person wearing a sterile work gown and a mask, with only their two deep-set eyes visible, approached him and reported:
"This is the fifty-fifth experiment..."
My memory ends here once again.
Qingmu was certain this wasn't a hallucination. Laboratory No. 19 definitely had some connection to him. But what kind of connection could it be?
"I know you, you're from over there."
Qingmu recalled the words Liu Huaian had blurted out when they first met, and now it seemed they were probably more than just the ravings of Madman.
He found he couldn't remember anything more, so he continued trudging forward on the snow.
Bi Shenghua knew he was searching for traces of his memories, so she casually recounted stories of the past along the way:
"The prices at the old farmers' market are fair. Not only do people in Liuying Lane know this, but many people from Wuzhong take the bus early in the morning to buy vegetables. I buy my pork hock from Old Zhang, who sells pork. His pigs are free-range in the countryside, and the meat is fresher and more refined than that from farms. They eat amaranth mixed with rice bran, unlike pigs fed swill which have a fishy smell."
"It took a lot of effort to demolish this market. Everyone wanted to preserve it, but there wasn't a place like it nearby. Nowadays, farmers' markets are all made like supermarkets. They're clean, but the costs are high, and they can't accommodate so many farmers. In the end, it was Huang Ziqiang who came up with the idea of converting a parking lot on Fuyi Road into a multi-level underground and surface parking garage. The land that was freed up was used to build the farmers' market. The layout is similar to the old market. Most of the farmers are still there. The management is a bit stricter than before, and the prices are a bit higher, but not by much. It's still much cheaper than other places."
"This is where the internet cafe used to be. The internet cafe is completely gone. Business is tough these days, and you can't find a place this cheap anymore. The owner took the compensation and changed careers. I heard he opened a pet shop on East Street, but I haven't had time to go see it, so I don't know if it's true."
Suddenly, Qingmu had a sudden realization and pointed ahead, saying, "Isn't that where Old Liu Family's wool mill used to be, right behind the internet cafe?"
"Well, but I wasn't even born when the wool mill was thriving," Bi Shenghua said. "I heard that the factory was doing incredibly well back then, and they even hired a lot of workers from other places. Then the wool mill caught fire, and everything was gone!"
I was born on the day of the fire. My mother had a difficult childbirth, and my grandfather went to the hospital; otherwise, he would have died there too. Because of this, my grandfather doted on me, saying that I saved his life.
"How come your grandfather was working at the wool mill?" Qingmu asked curiously.
"My grandfather didn't care about anything except trees. The Liuying Lane area was full of willow trees, but a mulberry tree inexplicably grew in the yard of the wool mill. My grandfather said that the spirit of the mulberry tree had been revived, so he went to the factory to find a job watching the warehouse and taking care of the mulberry tree at the same time."
Later, the mulberry tree grew bigger and bigger, and the Liu Family family thought it was in the way and wanted to cut it down. My grandfather stopped them, and they cut it down while my grandfather was at the hospital. But that very night, a fire broke out.
Bi Shenghua spoke of these events with some emotion, "My grandfather often said later that the Liu Family shouldn't have cut down the trees; it was because they cut down the trees that they suffered this disaster."
Qingmu listened with a touch of melancholy, and for some reason, the image of a wool mill appeared in his mind.
The area was surrounded by a wall taller than a person, its top strewn with shards of broken glass to deter thieves. There were two large iron gates, with a large wolfhound chained inside. Inside the yard were rows of makeshift factory buildings, with warehouses and employee dormitories connected together. The warehouse entrances and corners of the yard were piled with all sorts of miscellaneous items. A section of a severed mulberry tree root protruded from the ground, like a broken arm reaching out from underground, displaying its gruesome wound to the sky.
Then he saw the firelight.
The fire started in the backyard, near the street-facing storefront, and quickly spread into the yard. The piles of cotton yarn waste and semi-finished fabrics caught fire at the slightest Mars, and the fire quickly became uncontrollable.
In a daze, he found himself in a simple dormitory, lying on a makeshift wire bed, staring blankly at a 25-watt incandescent light bulb hanging from the ceiling. A burning smell filled his nostrils, and he heard someone crying and shouting, followed by flames creeping in through the window.
He jumped out of bed, grabbed his old overcoat and put it on, and without even changing his shoes, he slipped on the slippers next to the bed and rushed to the door.
When the door opened, flames and black smoke rushed out. He squinted, held his breath, and rushed out, his slippers clattering loudly.
He had only taken a few steps when he tripped over something and fell to the ground. He turned his head and saw it was the mulberry root that was half exposed on the ground. The broken end was oozing sap from the flames, like pus flowing from a festering wound.
Immediately afterwards, the fire engulfed him, and thick smoke filled his lungs.
Before his consciousness faded, he saw a new sprout emerging from the mulberry root that had been burned beyond recognition.
The leaf buds gleamed an eerie green in the firelight.
Then, flames engulfed everything, and the cawing of Crow echoed from the sky.
Like a shattered mirror, the world within it vanishes, leaving only a vast expanse of white.
A Crow flew out from the shattered mirror, landed on Qingmu's head, Guagua complainingly:
"You came out to see the snow so early in the morning without even calling me... Hey, everyone else takes a walk hand in hand, what are you two doing standing so far apart, practicing passing the ball? Come on, come closer... Oh dear, Ruhua... be a little cute... pretend to fall... quack... what are you doing... Guagua... I'm helping you... Ru--Hua--..."