Don't go to the moon, there are gods on the far side of the moon.

Lin Wangchuan is still in the return capsule.

Three people couldn't get in.

Only Lin Jibai was allowed to enter.

However, his current stability is 12, and his right-hand projection is missing.

Once he goes in to retrieve his memories, he'll have to ask questions in public and pay a price.

Xu Wangshu presented him with a choice.

"To get the core, you might need to have your memories retrieved."

"It's fine if we don't take it," Qin Lan said. "Lin Wangchuan can see it himself; he can recognize his own handwriting when he's lucid."

"He can read," Lin Jibai said, "but he can't recognize the pen."

Nobody in the main control room understood that sentence.

Lin Jibai explained very slowly.

"My dad has a habit," he said, "that he always uses his own pen to sign important documents."

"What pen?"

"A very old black ballpoint pen," Lin Jibai said. "There's a scratch on the cap; I carved it when I was a child."

"What do you want to confirm?"

"I want to confirm whether Lin Wangchuan's signature on the original document was written by him."

Xu Wangshu understood.

"If someone else hands you the pen and you write your own name on it, either refuse to sign it, or—it's forgery."

"That's right," Lin Jibai said. "Others can imitate my dad's handwriting. But he won't use other people's pens to sign things."

"How do we verify that?"

"Look at the pressure of the brush," Lin Jibai said. "The brush he used produced a lot of ink and left deep marks. The brushes others handed him produced less ink."

Qin Lan immediately scanned the original document.

The signature in Lin Wangchuan's column has a very shallow indentation.

It's so shallow it's as if it were written on a brand new sheet of paper without any backing.

"This isn't his pen," Qin Lan said.

"Is that his handwriting?" Xu Wangshu asked.

"The handwriting looks very similar," Qin Lan said, "but we can't match them because we don't have his original signature as a sample."

Where is his original signature?

"In the counterweight compartment."

Everyone was stunned.

"His signature was in the counterweight compartment?"

"Square number forty-seven," Qin Lan said. "I took a picture of that square before I left. There was a piece of paper under the square, but I didn't look at it closely at the time."

She pulled up the photos.

Sure enough, there was a piece of paper at the bottom of the forty-seventh square.

The paper contained a handwritten passage.

The text is large and urgent.

I will not sign.

[My only reason for not signing is: these things shouldn't have been taken out.]

If one day someone produces my signature, it's not mine.

The three people stared at the text for a long time without saying a word.

"He knew all along that his identity would be stolen," Lu Chenggong said.

"He knew," Lin Jibai said, "so he left a message in his own cubicle."

"What about the thirty-first square?" Xu Wangshu asked. "Was there a message left in Luo Xu's square?"

Qin Lan brought up the 31 frames of video.

The bottom of each cell is empty.

It was empty, but there was no ash.

"It's not that there's nothing there," Qin Lan said. "It's that something was taken away."

"Who took it?"

"People who were able to come in after we left," Qin Lan said. "After we left, someone went into the counterweight compartment."

How did you know?

"Because the paper in the forty-seventh compartment is still there, but the item in the thirty-first compartment is gone."

"Could it be that we overlooked something?"

"No," Qin Lan said. "I filmed every single frame before I left."

She pulled up a panoramic photo taken before the evacuation.

The bottom of the thirty-first square was flat at that time.

There was no paper, and no print.

In the image that is now retrieved, there is a very shallow arc-shaped mark at the bottom of the grid.

It looked like someone had been pressing with their fingertips for a long time.

Xu Wangshu looked at the mark and slowly said a sentence.

"After we left, someone went in and took away the message Luo Xu left behind."

"Why did you specifically choose the silk floss?"

"Because Luo Xu wrote down Number Thirty-One's real name in her message."

No one in the main control room asked what his real name was anymore.

Because everyone understands that if that name still existed, the world would already know the answer.

That night, Lin Jibai did not retrieve his memories.

He only did one thing.

He asked Xu Wangshu to ask Lin Wangchuan a question for him.

I'm not asking for a signature.

The question is: Why did you refuse to sign the visa back then?

Xu Wangshu has passed away.

She looked terrible when she came back.

"He answered," she said.

What did he answer?

He said, "Because I know that once I sign it, everything that wasn't signed by me will be considered my signature."