A fine young girl.

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“So, just how many transmigrators are there?” Lu Feng looked at the Director and asked.

“At present, there are 370,817 registered. Of course, there may still be some undiscovered, so we can’t rule out that possibility,” the Director replied, reciting the number as if he were naming precious possessions, clearly well-versed in the situation. For a moment, Lu Feng felt as though the Director suffered from a split personality—one persona when recruiting, another now.

“More than three hundred thousand… That’s quite a lot,” Lu Feng admitted, surprised by the sheer number.

“Yes. So the burden on your shoulders is heavy.” The Director’s words carried a deeper meaning, leaving Lu Feng baffled.

What did this have to do with him? Was the Director joking?

“I’m not the Director, nor have I joined the Ninth Bureau of Time. What does it have to do with me?” Lu Feng scoffed.

“I could hand over the director’s position to you right now,” the Director said gleefully, as if the position was merely a title, easily transferable at any moment.

Lu Feng was dumbfounded. This was an inexplicable move—just arrived and offered to be the head, so casually? Was this truly a legitimate department?

“Heh… Don’t take it seriously. I was joking.”

“I’m serious.”

Lu Feng stood there, stunned, unsure how to respond. The air fell silent.

The two remained quietly in place, the Director gazing out the window, lost in thought.

“Well then, from today, you are the special observer of the Ninth Bureau of Time. The only one. You may observe everything within the bureau.” After a long pause, the Director finally spoke.

Suddenly, Lu Feng seemed to recall something. He turned and glanced at Lin Dou Dou, who had been standing by the door, raised his hand, and pointed, saying to the Director with a serious expression, “I’ll start my observation with her.”

“Huh? Me…” Lin Dou Dou’s face was covered in imaginary sweat.

“Certainly. As you wish. Oh, I forgot to mention: for safety’s sake, I’ve already erased all traces of you outside. Even if you step out now, no one will know who you are, not even your family.”

“Additionally, Captain Lin happens to have a tricky case on her hands. She’s quite capable, that one.”

With that, the Director waved them off, and the two sensibly left the office.

The Director’s tone was light, but Lu Feng sensed a deliberate emphasis, especially on the last point.

The act of concealing his traces—Lu Feng didn’t know how it was accomplished, but the Ninth Bureau of Time surely had the means. If he himself could manipulate space, the Director must be even more adept.

Yet, was the Director always this gossipy?

Leaving the Director’s office, Lin Dou Dou shot Lu Feng a sidelong glance and strode ahead. Lu Feng followed lazily behind.

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As they walked, many people pointed and whispered. Their gazes toward Lu Feng shimmered, like lovestruck maidens; toward Lin Dou Dou, their eyes held envy, causing Lin Dou Dou’s head to sink lower and lower.

Transmigrators, it seemed, were quite fond of gossip. Lu Feng mused.

Following Lin Dou Dou, Lu Feng arrived at a small, secluded courtyard. Though modest in size, it was tranquil.

Upon entering, Lu Feng immediately felt a refined elegance—a purity that matched his temperament, as if prepared especially for him.

Lin Dou Dou turned to Lu Feng and said, “Considering your circumstances, to minimize disturbance, the Director arranged for you to live here.”

“Is it the same for others?” Lu Feng asked.

“No. Aside from a few key officials, you’re the only one with such treatment,” Lin Dou Dou replied earnestly.

“Why?” Lu Feng pressed.

“You’re the most gifted person in nearly a century. No one else can manipulate space as you do. Whoever controls space, controls time. So, granting you such privileges, no one objects.” As she spoke, Lin Dou Dou looked directly at Lu Feng.

“I apologize for what happened earlier—that was my fault,” Lin Dou Dou said, referring to the previous test.

“The Director mentioned you have a challenging case?” Lu Feng changed the subject.

“Yes, there is one. A month ago, six transmigrators vanished suddenly. We’ve investigated thoroughly but found no trace. This has never happened before.” Lin Dou Dou’s demeanor grew solemn and animated as she spoke about the case.

“From what we know, though there are many doubts, no clear leads have emerged.”

“The six transmigrators had been under our supervision, all ordinary wage-earners, unremarkable. They regularly reported to our external contact points, and nothing unusual occurred before their disappearance.”

“We checked their movements and addresses, interviewed those they interacted with, but found nothing out of the ordinary.”

“But for six transmigrators to vanish at once—if we don’t find the cause, it will incite panic among all transmigrators. They are not ordinary people; if they lose control, the consequences would be disastrous.”

“…”

Lin Dou Dou could not seem to stop talking about the case.

“The Director said you’re quite capable,” Lu Feng interjected, cutting off her monologue.

“Huh?” Lin Dou Dou was caught off guard by the interruption, her face flushing red, like a ripe apple.

“Take a rest. I’ll show you around the bureau later, and tomorrow we’ll visit the scene together,” Lin Dou Dou said, then swiftly left for the door, not waiting for Lu Feng.

“Wait.” Seeing Lin Dou Dou about to leave, Lu Feng quickly called out.

“Yes? Do you… need something else?” Lin Dou Dou paused but did not turn around.

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It was clear she was avoiding Lu Feng’s earlier topic.

“Thank you.”

Lu Feng uttered the words simply. Lin Dou Dou was taken aback, and when she turned, Lu Feng had already entered the house.

…

…

After Lu Feng and Lin Dou Dou departed, the Director went straight to the top floor of the building.

He knocked gently, then entered.

At the center of the vast room at the top floor was a holographic nebula projection.

An elderly man with white hair sat in a worn chair, his gaze fixed on the nebula.

After a while, the old man turned and asked the Director, “He’s here?”

“Yes, teacher,” the Director replied respectfully.

“He doesn’t want to join, does he?” The old man seemed to know the answer already, but asked nonetheless.

“Yes. But I made him a special observer. Teacher, is he the one we’ve been waiting for?” the Director asked, heavy-hearted.

“The stars don’t lie,” the old man replied with certainty.

“Will you meet him? He’s quite the celebrity now,” the Director asked.

“We’ll meet when the time is right.” The old man gazed at the nebula, lost in thought, then spoke again, “Five hundred years. Wang Hao, our time is running out.”

The Director, called Wang Hao by the old man, sighed deeply, his eyes shadowed.

“Go on. Don’t worry about him—he will stay,” the old man said.

With that, Wang Hao respectfully left the room.

Within the mysterious Ninth Bureau, there existed someone whose authority surpassed even that of the Director—a figure unknown to most who had served in the bureau for years, and he was an old man.

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