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

Every time the red dot on the Buzhou Mountain heart chamber jumps, the entire maintenance corridor vibrates slightly.

Like a heart buried in the moon, not quite dead yet.

Xu Wangshu inserted the chip into the lunar map, and Lin Wangchuan's diary began to decrypt automatically. However, halfway through the decryption, an identity question suddenly popped up on the screen.

[Please answer: Why did Lin Wangchuan prevent the complete restoration?]

There are only two options.

[Part One: Fear of the Old Heavenly Court.]

Second: Betraying humanity's lunar exploration program.

Lin Xiaoman's eyes reddened with anger: "Neither!"

Lu Chenggong sneered: "I'm familiar with this kind of question. I won't give you the correct answer, I'll only give you the direction of your conviction."

Wen Zhaolin stood to the side, his expression complex. He had faced a similar problem in his youth, but back then he chose the answer provided by the system. He said Lin Wangchuan was conservative, weak, and held back by fear, while he himself was the one who dared to lead humanity towards order.

Now, those archival steles and the nine suns behind the South Heavenly Gate are all rebutting him.

Xu Wangshu didn't rush to answer. She pulled out all the logs and proofread them section by section, even the garbled text. She was a stickler for evidence and wouldn't accept a binary choice.

The maintenance port has started its countdown.

[Incorrect answers or exceeding the time limit will be considered as unauthorized occupation of the wreckage by fellow travelers.]

The wall opened, revealing rows of sealed repair tools. The tools, like instruments of torture, automatically aimed themselves at their hands, eyes, and spines. The succession assessment didn't require answers, but obedience.

Lin Xiaoman suddenly heard a dream. She looked up and saw an image emerge from the depths of the corridor: Lin Wangchuan from ten years ago and a much younger Wen Zhaolin standing in front of the same cross-sectional diagram of the wreckage.

Wen Zhaolin wasn't as cold and hard as he is now; his eyes held both excitement and weariness.

"Wangchuan, once it is fully repaired, humanity can truly enter the Earth-Moon era."

Lin Wangchuan shook his head: "What was repaired wasn't a road, but chains."

"You're too pessimistic."

"I only repaired it," Lin Wangchuan said, pointing to the cross-section diagram. "This thing wasn't designed to send people to the moon; it was designed to allow the Heavenly Court to issue orders to the human world. Completeness means one-way management restoration."

Wen Zhaolin said in a deep voice, "Then we can take over the management."

Lin Wangchuan smiled wryly: "What makes you think the old Heavenly Court would hand over the reins to you?"

The scene shifts. Lin Wangchuan sits alone at the maintenance entrance, recording his final testimony. He presents a set of experimental data: when the integrity of the Buzhou Mountain remains exceeds 73%, the South Heavenly Gate will automatically access the database of human destiny; when the integrity is below 68%, the remains will collapse, and abnormal leakage will occur on the far side of the moon; only by maintaining the fractured state can the gate be sealed while preserving the autonomy of humankind.

Xu Wangshu's breathing became rapid.

"That's proof by contradiction."

The obstacles are not over yet. The system does not recognize the video, judging it as a private, subjective recording.

Wen Zhaolin suddenly spoke up: "I can testify."

Everyone looked at him.

Lu Chengong's eyes flashed with hostility: "Would your testimony be of any use?"

"Yes." Wen Zhaolin raised his head. "Because I was the one who submitted the complete restoration argument back then."

He walked to the moon map and pressed his palm print onto it. The old files were forcibly opened, containing core data that Tianheng had concealed from multiple institutions: the response to the Buzhou Mountain ruins, the demand for rights at Nantianmen, Lin Wangchuan's objections, and Wen Zhaolin's personally annotated handling suggestions.

The advice can be summed up in just four words: exclude variables.

Lin Xiaoman trembled all over: "So my dad was trapped under the door because of you?"

Wen Zhaolin offered no explanation.

"Yes."

Lin Xiaoman rushed forward and punched him. She was too weak, so the punch didn't have much force, but Wen Zhaolin didn't dodge. He took the second and third punches.

Xu Wangshu didn't stop them. Neither did Lu Chenggong.

Xu Wangshu only helped Lin Xiaoman up when she cried so hard she could barely stand.

Wen Zhaolin wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and pushed the complete file to Yue Tu: "Lin Wangchuan's obstruction of the complete restoration was not out of fear or betrayal. He proved that the complete restoration of Buzhou Mountain would trigger the trusteeship. He chose to maintain the rift so that humanity could continue to have the right to make mistakes and correct them."

During the system's silence, a series of small, rapid knocking sounds suddenly echoed from the depths of the corridor. The hovering tools didn't fall, but instead began mimicking the rhythm of knocking on a door. Lin Xiaoman recognized the sound as not a threat, but the lingering echoes of old workers trapped in the maintenance bay. They may not have had the chance to offer a third answer back then, forced to choose between "fear" and "betrayal." She abruptly stood before the moon map, choking back tears, and said, "Let me add something for my father. He wasn't alone in his opposition, and neither were you."

This statement, lacking technical authorization, caused several fragmented log entries to silently light up automatically. More objections from the repairmen were unblocked, like secondments ten years overdue. Xu Wangshu entered them all, and the chain of evidence for the third answer finally expanded from Lin Wangchuan alone to the collective counter-evidence of the repairmen. The old Heavenly Court could stigmatize an individual, but it was difficult to explain why an entire group of repairmen chose to preserve the cracks at the last moment.

The system is silent.

The countdown has reached zero.

The tools didn't fall; instead, they remained suspended in mid-air.

The third answer is correct.

[Repairman 07 Counter-proof Input.]

An old-fashioned key popped out from deep within the wall. The key was shaped like a broken pillar, with a piece deliberately missing in the middle.

[Successor candidates can be added to the outer archives.]

Xu Wangshu picked up the key and found that it was engraved with the initials of Lin Jibai's childhood name.

Lin Xiaoman choked up: "Dad knew all along that my brother would come?"

The lighthouse echoed very softly.

He hoped I wouldn't come.

But he also knew I would come.

At the end of the corridor, the outer archives opened. Inside, there was no golden light, no magical artifacts, only rows of dusty engineering cabinets. A yellowed photograph was pasted on the door of the central cabinet.

In the photo, Lin Wangchuan is holding young Lin Jibai, while Lin Xiaoman, who is still unable to walk, stands beside him.

There was a sentence written on the back of the photo.

If they pressure you to take over, don't agree yet.

The real damage to Buzhou Mountain wasn't on the pillars.

In the succession system.

The succession documents in the archives became increasingly alarming. Every procedure was written in a grand and dignified manner: voluntary, honorable, protective, a shield for humanity. But in the technical parameters in the appendix, Xu Wangshu saw cold, hard figures: replacement rates, memory wear-out curves, and personality retention thresholds. So-called heroes were quantified as the wick that could burn for as long as possible.

Lin Xiaoman turned to a page of the child compatibility record, her face instantly turning pale. That page didn't have her name on it, but it was labeled "High dream compatibility key container, stable kinship ties, suitable for assisting successor solidification." She finally understood that she had never been just a patient from the beginning. Someone had used her pain as an excuse, and her dependence on her brother as a rope.

Xu Wangshu snatched that page and stuffed it directly into the evidence package.

"Don't be afraid," she said. "Being recorded as a tool doesn't mean you are a tool."

Lin Xiaoman nodded vigorously, but tears still fell. It wasn't that she was weak; she was just suddenly saddened for her brother. Lin Jibai had always thought he was protecting her, but it turned out the old system even wanted to exploit that protection.

Lu Chenggong saw another report on the Houyi sequence's collaborative succession. The report recommended that in the event of a successor's personality resistance, the Houyi sequence should perform "mild calibration," and if necessary, sever the object of their concern. His finger hovered over that line of text, remaining motionless for a long time.

"I almost became one of those things," he said.

Xu Wangshu looked up: "It's not finished yet, so it can be changed."

After the video ended, Wen Zhaolin stood alone for a long time. Xu Wangshu didn't urge him, because she was converting Lin Wangchuan's experimental data into a format that could be read on the ground: integrity threshold, custody triggering conditions, lunar debris profile, and Nantianmen access route. Each item was enough to overturn Tianheng's lunar landing narrative of the past ten years. Lin Xiaoman couldn't help with the technical aspects, so she handwrote every sentence from her father's video. She wrote slowly, and her handwriting was crooked, but she insisted on not using automatic transcription. She said, "Dad waited ten years; he can't just be left with cold, hard data."