Chapter 6: Can a Mobile Phone Really Teleport Objects?

After pondering for a moment, Qin Zhong approached the window and slightly drew back the curtain to peer outside.

At some point, the crisp autumn air and bright sunshine had vanished, replaced by a sky filled with ominous clouds. He wasn’t sure if it would rain soon.

Looking out, the streets were swarming with zombies, endlessly wandering in terrifying numbers.

Closing the curtain, Qin Zhong returned to the room and continued rummaging through the belongings, hoping to find something useful—ideally a weapon to defend himself.

If nothing else was available, he would have to make do with the kitchen knife; it was far better than bare hands.

Clenching a cigarette he found in a cabinet, Qin Zhong searched through several rooms. Unexpectedly, behind the bookshelf in the study, he discovered a long sword.

Though Qin Zhong wasn’t well-versed in blades, his closest friend, “Tilted Hat,” had always been passionate about swords and spears, often lecturing him on the subject. At once, the word “Miao Dao” sprang to mind.

The blade measured three feet eight inches, with a handle one foot two inches long, combining features of both sword and spear—it could be wielded as either, single-handed or with both hands.

According to Tilted Hat, the Miao Dao was a highly lethal weapon in the era of cold steel, a formidable killing tool, though difficult for most to master.

Qin Zhong carefully examined the exquisite craftsmanship of the sword, noting its ivory-white scabbard. He swung it a few times in the air and nodded with satisfaction—it handled smoothly.

Unfortunately, the blade seemed more like an ornamental piece; it was unsharpened. To use it as a weapon, the edge had to be honed; otherwise, it was no better than a firewood stick.

After searching the rooms without finding a sharpening stone, Qin Zhong reluctantly pried up a tile near the kitchen sink and began grinding the blade against the rough cement beneath.

Though laborious and time-consuming, this was the best option under the circumstances.

By the time the blade was sharpened, daylight was fading. Having gone without sleep for a long stretch, Qin Zhong’s eyelids drooped. Fighting off drowsiness, he entered the spare bedroom, locked the door, and pushed the wardrobe against it for extra security.

Outside, darkness had fully settled. Through the window, not a single light shone from the surrounding buildings—everything was pitch black.

Far off on the horizon, occasional lightning streaked through the sky, signaling an impending storm.

Taking it all in, Qin Zhong sighed silently. This was the apocalypse—a dog-eat-dog world. Even if others were nearby, they were likely hiding, fearful of making any noise.

He didn’t lie down to sleep but leaned against the wall by the bed, ready to react at a moment’s notice.

Suddenly, a ringing jolted him awake. He snapped his eyes open and glanced around. Seeing no immediate danger, he set the Miao Dao aside.

The phone continued ringing. Qin Zhong picked it up, frowned at the unknown number on the screen, and answered quietly, “Hello?”

Meanwhile, in an office building in the capital city, Sun Xiaoyan furrowed her brow, anxiety flickering in her eyes. Her left fingers absentmindedly traced the faint imprint left by a ring on her right index finger.

“My grandmother’s ring—it’s gone!” she muttered.

The ring she cherished most had mysteriously disappeared the night before. Despite searching everywhere, she found no trace. The loss gnawed at her nerves.

Amid her restless thoughts, a sudden realization struck her. The phone call she made last night at her best friend’s place—it had connected directly to Wang Qian, not to that strange person.

Could the missing ring be connected to that odd individual?

Though the notion seemed far-fetched, Sun Xiaoyan decided to try. Holding her phone, she walked to the window as heavy rain fell outside, drew the curtain, and dialed Wang Qian’s number.

The call connected quickly. An inexplicable tension gripped her. Would this time the call reach the man claiming to be surrounded by zombies?

“Hello?”

Suddenly, a rough voice came through the receiver. Her heart leapt—it was the man from last night.

“Is that Qin Zhong?” she asked cautiously.

“Hmm?” The hesitant voice replied.

Qin Zhong was momentarily stunned but then thrilled. “Yes, it’s me, Qin Zhong. How did you get through to me?”

“I—I’m not sure. Are you really in 2034?” Sun Xiaoyan’s voice quivered with excitement as she posed the question that had troubled her all night.

Qin Zhong paused, recalling that she had said she was in 2024. After a brief hesitation, he chose honesty. “Yes, I’m in 2034.”

Sun Xiaoyan hesitated. To be truthful, she found it hard to believe, yet the man seemed sincere. Thinking of her ring, she asked casually, “Qin Zhong, did you see a ring yesterday?”

“A ring?” Qin Zhong was taken aback, suddenly recalling the ring he had seen the previous night. Could it be hers?

If so, why was the ring in his possession?

Could his phone really connect to the present and even transmit objects?

Before he could ponder further, a knocking sound came from the phone’s microphone—someone was at the door.

“Come in!”

Sun Xiaoyan set the phone down on the desk. The door opened with a click, and a woman wearing black-rimmed glasses entered, her face etched with urgency.

“Ms. Sun, I need to report something,” she said breathlessly. “The company’s funds are insufficient. The prepayment deadline for Wan Hai Technologies is in four days. What should we do?”

Sun Xiaoyan blinked, puzzled. “The research agreement Grandpa signed before he passed?”

“Yes, Ms. Sun,” the woman said, composing herself. “Our company’s main focus is innovative drugs. We sign annual development contracts with Wan Hai Technologies. The yearly fee is three million yuan, with a 10% prepayment—three hundred thousand yuan.”

“The company doesn’t even have three hundred thousand yuan on hand?”

Sun Xiaoyan was shocked. Her grandfather had founded Tianhai Pharmaceuticals, one of the country’s top hundred pharmaceutical companies, with several best-selling drugs.

She knew the company usually had about a million yuan in reserve for emergencies. It shouldn’t be lacking even thirty thousand yuan.