The ancient return was exposed by his sister's live stream.

A row of low cabinets stands against the wall. Above the cabinets, several stone slabs are fixed to the wall... The stone slabs are engraved with tables, densely packed with numbers.

Opposite was a chair and a table, with nothing on the table.

However, there are obvious signs of wear on the armrests of the chair... the kind of wear that comes from long-term use.

Yang Wanqing squatted in front of one of the low cabinets. The cabinet door was open. Inside, a neat stack of things was piled up.

Paper.

It's not paper from Earth. The material is lighter and thinner, with edges so neat they look like they've been cut.

The color is slightly yellowish, but there is no insect damage, no brittleness, and no mold. The condition is abnormally good.

Yang Wanqing held one of the books in her hands, flipping through it.

"Chang'e's Diary!" She looked up at Chen Siyao, her eyes shining.

Chen Siyao walked over and bent down to take a look.

Ancient script, written vertically, with handwriting... different from the inscriptions on instruments, more free and fluid. It was handwritten.

"Did you see it?" Chen Siyao asked Yang Wanqing.

"No, I just asked you to come and watch it together."

Chen Siyao took the diary from Yang Wanqing and turned to the first page.

I read a few lines.

My breathing stopped for a beat.

She placed the crystal camera on the table. The lens was pointed at the pages of her diary, and also at herself.

Then she began to read.

"The lunar calendar year 4217. Autumn Equinox."

"We arrived at the Guanghan Tide Control Bureau today. The journey took two hours. Our sect's teleportation array only goes to the outer edge of the Taiyin Realm; we have to fly the rest of the way ourselves."

"The Sichaojian (Imperial Observatory) is larger than I expected. It has a main hall, side halls, an observatory, and living quarters."

"Yutu-1 is operating normally. The spiritual energy tide value is stable between 7,400 and 7,600."

"The previous caretaker left behind an operating manual. I spent two days reading it. It wasn't difficult."

"Nothing much to say about the first three days. Record the values. Calibrate the readings. Check every six hours. Very regular."

There's no one else here.

Chen Siyao's reading voice echoed in the quiet room.

Yang Wanqing sat beside him, legs crossed, chin resting on her knees. Listening.

The comments section was also listening.

Chen Siyao turned to the next page.

"The lunar calendar year 4219."

I've been dancing for two years.

"Three abnormal fluctuations in spiritual energy tides. The first occurred around the spring equinox. The second was in late summer. The third was at the autumn equinox. The fluctuations were minor... deviating from the baseline value by about 0.3%. They were restored after manual correction."

"A report was submitted to the sect. The sect replied, 'It's within the normal fluctuation range; continue to observe.'"

"I painted a picture on the wall of the living room. It's a picture of peach blossoms from my hometown. The paint was mixed with the juice of sacred plants. It looks quite realistic."

"But after finishing the painting, I felt... something wasn't quite right. The colors were right. The shapes were right. It was just missing something."

"There's no wind."

"Peach trees sway in the wind. The ones in paintings don't."

Chen Siyao paused for a moment when she read this part.

Yang Wanqing's chin left her knee.

There are fewer bullet comments now.

Chen Siyao continued flipping through the pages.

"The lunar calendar is in its 4241st year."

They danced for over twenty years.

"This year's spiritual energy tide value... is 7,352. It's almost 300 units lower than when I first arrived. The trend is clear... it's declining."

"I've reported it to the sect. The sect said they've noticed it too. They told me to continue monitoring."

"Continue monitoring."

"I've been here for twenty-four years."

Chen Siyao kept flipping through the pages.

I have many diary entries. But I don't write in them every day. Sometimes I write once every few months. Sometimes I write once a year. And later... I only write once every few years.

The time span is widening.

Chang'e... this ancient cultivator... has been guarding this deserted Sichaojian alone for far too long.

"The lunar calendar is 4,300 years old."

"It's been a hundred years."

"Spiritual energy tide value - 6,800".

"I tried nine different solutions. I iterated on three of them. The effect... is temporary. But the long-term trend can't be reversed. The spiritual energy is being lost."

"The sect remained silent for a long time. Finally, they replied with four words: 'Continue to hold firm.'"

"it is good."

It can be summed up in one word: "good".

Chen Siyao's hand turned the pages more slowly.

The handwriting in the diary changes. At the beginning, it's neat and upright. The further it goes—the more casual it becomes. Not sloppy, but the kind of naturalness that comes from writing for so long that form is no longer a concern. Every stroke carries the weight of time.

My diary is getting thinner and thinner.

It's not that there are fewer pages. It's that I'm writing less and less. Towards the end, an entire year's worth of records is condensed into just a few lines.

Chen Siyao translated very slowly.

"The lunar calendar is 5,600 years old."

From 4217 AD... to 5600 AD. In between... nearly 1400 years.

"Spiritual energy tide value...3009."

The number dropped from over seven thousand to three thousand.

"I've tried every possible solution. I've adjusted the parameters hundreds of times. I disassembled and inspected every single ring-shaped component of Yutu-1 three times. It's not a problem with the instruments. It's that the spiritual energy itself is declining."

"The spiritual energy in Kyushu is dwindling."

"The sect still wants me to guard it."

"I... I'm used to it."

Three words. I'm used to it.

Chen Siyao's throat tightened when she read this.

She didn't stop. She kept flipping through the pages.

"The lunar calendar is 6,400 years old."

Another eight hundred years have passed.

"Spiritual energy tide value...1200."

"It's already below the critical maintenance line. Adjustments are pointless. I'm still adjusting. Every six hours. Not because it's useful, but because it's my duty."

"I painted my 417th painting. It's still about peach blossoms."

"I ran out of paint. I'll use spiritual energy instead. The peach blossoms painted with spiritual energy will glow. They look beautiful, but they still won't move."

"Sometimes I stand at the edge of the barrier and look at the Nine Provinces."

"It's far away. It's very bright. There are people living up there. Some are experiencing birth, aging, sickness, and death. Some have never left the village where they were born."

"I have watched them from the realm of the moon for over two thousand years."

"Do you want to go back?"

"think."

"But the sect didn't tell me to go back."

Chen Siyao's reading grew softer and softer.

Yang Wanqing was beside her. She didn't know when she had buried her face in her knees.

The live chat... almost stopped.

More than 500 million people are online. The number of comments per second is less than twenty. Most of them are ellipses.

Chen Siyao turned to the last few pages.

"The lunar calendar year 7216."

From the first diary entry to this one—three thousand years.

"Spiritual energy tide value...47."

Forty-seven.

From over seven thousand... to forty-seven.

"The readings have dropped so low that Yutu-1 can no longer read them properly. The numbers on the display keep fluctuating. They've been fluctuating all day. I've been sitting in front of the control panel watching them all day."

"There's nothing left to fix. The spiritual energy is almost gone."

"The Nine Provinces are about to enter an era of spiritual energy depletion."

"I've worked on it for so long. I've stood guard for so long. But I still couldn't change the outcome."

Chen Siyao stopped.