Chapter 424: My Name

47 Minutes Earlier.

Zhao Ying Jun’s house, bathroom, in front of the sink mirror.

Drip... drip...

Lin Yu Xi clutched her nose, her eyes squinting from the pain as the faucet dripped a steady rhythm. The bathroom floor was splattered with muddy-red stains—her own blood.

She blinked slowly, raising her gaze to meet her reflection.

The face staring back was familiar, but strangely foreign.

The familiarity came from her features—the ones she knew well, that she’d always known.

The strangeness lay in her memories.

Now, Lin Yu Xi held two sets of memories—those of Yan Qiao Qiao and those of Lin Yu Xi. Two different lives that both belonged to her. But... they were completely contradictory, polar opposites. Trying to reconcile them left her feeling deeply uneasy.

Because... these two memories didn’t connect at all.

She closed her eyes.

Again, she tried to sort through the tangled, freshly implanted memories—

A military training base. Rows of teenagers in uniforms stood in formation—all girls.

Their ages ranged from eleven to sixteen. They varied in height and build, but each one had been strengthened through extensive chemical enhancement—every one of them was fit, sturdy, and ready.

In her memory, Lin Yu Xi stood in the front row.

She glanced around. All the girls were taller, which was why she had been placed at the front.

At the time, she was just eleven years old.

She had been at the military base for years, enduring relentless, day-and-night training.

They were all chosen recruits—orphans taken by the state, raised to be agents of the Time-Space Bureau. Their purpose was singular: to become exceptional time-space agents, undertake secret missions, and serve the Bureau without question.

Their identities didn’t matter. Their first lesson upon arrival was to forget who they once were.

Their thoughts didn’t matter either. From the start, they were trained for loyalty, obedience, and unwavering dedication to the Bureau.

In truth... such effort wasn’t needed.

After all, they were just orphans—abandoned and forgotten by the world.

It was their fate.

The girls at the base didn’t even have names—except for her.

Lin Yu Xi.

“Number 7!”

“Here!”

“Number 11!”

“Here!”

“Number 13!”

“Here!”

“Number 17!”

“Here!”

The instructor called out their designations, one by one.

The girls had no real names. Just numbers. They had been called this way since arriving at the base.

And the numbers weren’t sequential either. That was because many recruits had been eliminated over the years during the enhancement phase. Those who didn’t make it were reassigned to less demanding roles—some became traffic police or special guards—ordinary jobs, forever unrelated to the world of “agents” or “time-space missions.”

“Lin Yu Xi!”

The instructor called her name.

“Here!”

Lin Yu Xi straightened, her voice loud and clear.

“Number 46!”

“Here!”

“Number 47!”

Curious, she moved closer and saw it was a family portrait.

The doctor stood with her husband behind their young son, who was leaping playfully, a toy in hand, a joyful smile lighting up his face.

“Is this... your son?” Lin Yu Xi asked, pointing at the photo.

“Yes,” the doctor replied with a smile. “He’s starting kindergarten soon, so we took this family picture yesterday as a keepsake. I really like it. Watching you all grow up made me realize how much my little one has grown, so I printed an extra copy to keep here.”

Lin Yu Xi nodded, her gaze lingering on the happy family. She couldn’t look away.

“How nice...” she whispered. “I wish I had a picture like that... with my mom and dad.”

The doctor looked up, surprised. She paused her note-taking, turning towards Lin Yu Xi.

“Do you think about your parents?” she asked gently.

Lin Yu Xi nodded.

The doctor smiled. “All these years, you’ve never mentioned it.”

“Because... no one ever talks about it,” Lin Yu Xi replied, her gaze shifting from the family photo to meet the doctor’s eyes. “Nobody here thinks about their parents. There’s no love, no hatred—just indifference, like strangers.”

The doctor nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s true. I’ve been with you all for so long, watching you grow up. You all speak to me freely, but... in all these years, you’re the only one who’s brought up parents.”

She paused, considering her words.

“Yes, you’re the only one. Like you said, the others don’t think about their parents. I suppose it’s because of your name.” She smiled gently. “A name is the first connection parents give to a child. Usually, it’s chosen by parents or grandparents, always with the parents’ approval.”

“Names seem simple, but they carry weight. Your surname shows where you come from—it’s part of your heritage. Your given name carries your parents’ hopes, emotions, or blessings.”

“Yu Xi... I don’t know why your parents chose that name. It’s quite unique, but I’m sure it had special meaning for them. Maybe that’s why, unlike the others, you think of your parents. Because you have a name, while they don’t. Your name makes them real to you, gives you an image of them—a hope.”

The doctor’s gaze moved back to her desk, to the framed photo of her family. Her expression softened as she looked at her son, who was about to start kindergarten. She spoke, her voice tender.

“Yu Xi, you’ve never met your parents. You don’t know what they look like, and nobody has told you anything about them.”

“But even so, even though you know nothing of them... you still miss them?”

Lin Yu Xi didn’t hesitate. She nodded firmly. “Yes, I do.”

The doctor blinked, taken aback. She hadn’t expected this.

“When do you think about them?” she asked. “Is it when you’re falling asleep at night? When training gets too hard? When the instructor scolds you? Or, like now, when you see others with their families?”

Lin Yu Xi shook her head, her eyes clear and serious.

“Every day,” she said softly.

The doctor’s eyes widened, and Lin Yu Xi added.

“Every moment.”

The doctor felt a lump rise in her throat. She reached out, gently wrapping Lin Yu Xi in an embrace, her hand resting atop her head.

She wanted to comfort her, but the words escaped her.

These children were sharp, much too perceptive for empty reassurances. Lies, no matter how well-intentioned, would only add to their pain.

Instead, she changed the subject.

“You’ll be fine tomorrow,” she said encouragingly. “I know you all better than anyone. Your strength, speed, reflexes—you’re among the best. You’ll make it.”

“Who knows, by tomorrow, you might already be a Level Three Time-Space Bureau agent, ranked higher than me!” She smiled, shaking her head. “No, once you finish your mission, once you return triumphantly from capturing humanity’s greatest criminal, I’ll treat you to a celebratory meal. How about that?”

...

“Number 17, victory!”

The instructor held Number 17’s hand high, declaring her entry into the final match.

“The final selection... Number 17 versus Lin Yu Xi!”

“Whoever wins this match will be promoted to Level Three Time-Space Bureau agent and receive the honor of wielding the only entangled-state time-space particle in history—to return to the past and carry out this critical mission!”

“Now... let the match begin!”

Bang!

Number 17, already filled with rage, launched herself at Lin Yu Xi.

The jealousy she had harbored for so long now poured out, fueling her attacks.