☆, Archimedes and the Cipher

Although Owen had witnessed countless times Yan Su’s ability to see through things at a glance while others were still in the dark, although countless times he felt like shaking Yan Su’s neck and strangling him when he said “it’s obvious,” just like countless times before, Owen really wanted to know how Yan Su figured it out.

He leaned against the piano and gestured for Yan Su to proceed.

Yan Su slid his wheelchair back a bit, his long legs neatly placed on the piano bench, folded one over the other. The light from the stained glass windows cast a faint blue hue in his light-colored eyes, complementing his Western three-dimensional features, resembling a prince from the Middle Ages.

“The condition you introduced me to is the same as what’s on this resume. Sorrel Fraser University, graduate student in journalism and mass communication. But the actual situation is…”

“On such a cold day, she doesn’t wear gloves because gloves reduce finger sensitivity, making it difficult to react in emergencies. The temperature inside is high, her scarf is close to her neck, she should be sweating. She doesn’t take off her coat or scarf because she’s ready to leave at any time, she doesn’t feel secure. Her pants are not squeezed at the ankles, she’s not wearing boots, it’s cold outside with snow, loose pants indicate something hidden at the ankles, from the outline, it looks like a gun. Would a student carry a gun? Unlikely. Especially for Asians, getting a gun permit is very difficult. Unless she’s a high-priority protection target. It takes over an hour to drive from the city center to here, but there are no seat belt marks on her coat, she didn’t buckle up. You don’t wear seat belts when driving because agents on duty need to maintain the fastest reaction speed, seat belts take time and can sometimes get stuck. Not wearing one is what you taught her, or she’s worried about sudden situations. Mild paranoia is the most common reaction in the early stages of witness relocation. Given her vigilance after studying at SFU for a year, it’s inferred that her experiences and adversaries are more complex than an ordinary witness. So, I thought it over.”

“She scanned the books on the bookshelf when she came in, her body relaxed momentarily when she saw the records of the European football league. Her eyes passed over the news media books without stopping, just like when she looked at books on religion, computer science, oceanography, and military, but when she saw the area on cell biology and pharmacology, her gaze lingered for more than five seconds, and her right hand unconsciously tapped a few times on the envelope. She wasn’t just looking, she was also memorizing the book titles. This is a habit of someone familiar with their professional knowledge and supplements. Her right hand is placed on her left hand, she’s not left-handed. But when she handed something to me and later picked up a book, she used her left hand because there’s a very faint scar from an electric shock clamp on her right wrist. Previous injuries should have been deeper. Although she applied cream from her eyebrows to under her eyes, upon careful inspection, there’s a dark color indicating sun exposure. Besides the black robes of Middle Eastern women, I can’t think of anything else that would leave such a mask-like imprint. And when she looked at the bookshelf, she paused at the Arabic Quran. This confirms my thoughts.”

“Another thing is the smell of her hands, which has a scent of medical beeswax and talcum powder. People who frequently disinfect their hands to protect their skin from dehydration use beeswax, while those who wear rubber gloves for flexible work use talcum powder. A surgeon? It takes 12 years of professional study, and she’s at most 23 years old; considering my previous thoughts, she’s involved in laboratory research on pharmaceuticals, specializing in biology and cell research. The smell on her hands is strong, not from habitually wiping. Conclusion, she didn’t come from school, but from a laboratory.”

“The girl who suddenly appeared by your side, I don’t know her, but you care a lot about her safety, that’s enough to explain the situation.”

He picked out the first page of the resume and tilted it towards the light, a transparent imprint appeared on the white paper,

“Before printing, she had written something on the previous page of this paper. A student of mass media studies remembering a phone number, knows Morse code?”

“As for information about her parents, I looked at your information, and only after confirming that she is a witness protection target did I think of it.”

“She’s still doing related experiments, which indicates that she has mastered core knowledge or technology in this field. But in the fields of biological research and pharmacology, there’s no talk of genius, the key is experience and accumulation. She’s so young, it’s only possible that it’s passed down from her parents. Growing up in a laboratory with her parents, she started her own research in this area. There’s also the most important point,”

Yan Su pointed at the resume,

“Her birthday is February 29th, today. It’s 1:30 in the afternoon now, she probably hasn’t had lunch, her birthday is fake. But the fact that her parents are deceased is true. In the Middle East, the most likely scenario for a young daughter of scientists who possesses core knowledge to enter the witness protection program is if her parents defected from their organization and were killed, passing on all the secrets to her before they died. The daughter exchanges this for witness protection.”

The spacious library was silent, Owen’s astonished face spelled out four words, “astounding.”

“Of course, there are other possibilities,” Yan Su’s dark eyebrows stared at him, “like she recently traveled to the Middle East, worked part-time in a shop selling medical beeswax oil, has broad interests, likes to watch soccer, likes to study ciphers, likes biological pharmacology. A rebellious personality, doesn’t fasten her seatbelt, pretends to carry a fake gun to scare people. At the same time, she exhibits strong persecutory delusions… contradictory? My conclusion is probably the most likely one.”

He inadvertently revealed a sense of self-confidence and arrogance, “Your information told me the answer. Thank you!”

Owen’s face darkened.

He casually added, “So, having too much information can be more harmful than helpful.”

Owen was irritated, must his childhood friend always wear a poker face?

Yan Su stood up, putting the white book back on the shelf wall.

Owen lowered his head and poked at the piano keys with his fingers, the notes completely out of tune, “She did indeed recently travel to the Middle East, but, you got one thing wrong.”

Yan Su turned to look at him.

“Her witness protection program didn’t start a year ago, it started five years ago,” Owen took a deep breath, “several agents who previously protected her have died in the line of duty.”

Yan Su looked at him quietly for a while, his voice low, “Owen!”

“Yeah?”

“Here’s some advice for you.”

Owen perked up his ears.

“Be careful not to die!”

“…”

After Yan Su finished speaking, he tidied up the papers on the piano stand, Owen looked at the card sent by Zhen Ai and asked, “Aren’t you going

to take a look?”

“I’ll look at it later if I have the chance,” Yan Su casually stuffed the card back into the envelope, showing little interest.

Owen leaned over to pick up Zhen Ai’s resume, her high school and earlier years in China, university and later in the United States, very plain and straightforward. He tilted the paper slightly, against the light, and indeed saw traces on the paper.

Although the symbols had variations, there was no doubt it was Morse code,
/-/-....–..–/-/-....-/-/-..–..-....-/-/—-....—–/-/—....—–/-/—–..-..-..—-/-/—..—-/*-/
Recording phone messages, a name and a number.
“It’s quite clear,” Owen unconsciously read aloud, “Delf Ben Agust, 150-250-0441-2! Huh, is it still a Chinese mobile number?”

Pretty clear?
Yan Su paused, his gaze drifting towards the paper in Owen’s hand, from this angle, he could clearly see those imprints. Strings of symbols were rapidly spinning in his mind, he looked at Owen firmly, “These are not names and phone numbers, but death threats.”

Owen’s face turned slightly pale, “Although some witnesses disrespect life and deliberately kill, but Ai, she wouldn’t…”

Yan Su interrupted him, “Did she write with her left hand or right hand?”

“Right hand.”

“Her right hand has been injured, lacking strength, how could the writing on the second sheet leave such deep imprints?” Yan Su furrowed his brows, “This cipher wasn’t written by her.”

“Oh, I overlooked that,” he seemed annoyed and amused at himself, “given her cautious personality, if she had written it, how could there be imprints?”

Yan Su looked at Owen, “She has a roommate who understands Morse code, haven’t you investigated the people around her?”

Owen’s first reaction was not to delve deep, but to quickly call Zhen Ai, but no one answered, it went to voicemail.

He immediately headed out.

“You should pray now that this threat wasn’t directed at her,” Yan Su’s tone was light, watching Owen relax, he added indifferently, “It’s unlikely.”

…

Zhen Li’s phone went silent, she found a dozen missed calls when she entered the school library.

Returning Owen’s call, he let out a big sigh of relief, after asking a bunch of questions, he said he and Yan Su would come over soon to further understand the situation. Hanging up the phone, she also heard Owen muttering defeatedly to someone about reporting to cancel the location tracking.

A bland voice from the other end of the phone responded to Owen, “If you’re going to die, die sooner.”

Zhen Ai turned back to the student apartment to wait for them. As it was nearing evening, the campus was filled with students driving home or going on dates, colorful figures against the snowy ground.

Standing next to a short, chubby snowman, Zhen Ai soon spotted Yan Su walking towards her from the white winter.

Her first reaction was astonishment.

He wasn’t in a wheelchair, his legs were fine, and quite long.

When he sat in the wheelchair, he was already quite tall, but now he looked even taller and thinner, in a black overcoat, gray scarf, tall and slender figure, low-key yet unforgettable, pleasing to the eye like a nobleman in a British movie.

As Zhen Ai saw him approach, she politely smiled at him, her breath forming a white mist in the cold air, quickly blown away by the wind. Yan Su apparently wasn’t prepared for her smile, his expression, usually not very animated, became even more stiff, as if frozen by the cold wind; only his light brown eyes remained serene, like stained glass in a sunlit church.

Zhen Ai, with both hands in her coat pockets, felt the long wait had made her cold, her smile trembling, she found something to say, “Did Owen drive you here?”

This was undoubtedly a pointless question, as meaningless as asking someone if they had eaten when the weather was good, but it was a good way to exchange pleasantries.

But Yan Su evidently didn’t see the value in this statement.

He silently looked at her, the light color of his eyes becoming even lighter in the white snow, his answer was, “A giant bird picked me up.” The original phrase was, “I hitchhiked a giant bird.”

It was hard to tell if it was typical American dry humor or sarcasm towards a boring question.

Zhen Ai thought it leaned more towards the latter.

It was difficult to respond, she remained silent for a while before diverting the topic, “Did Owen park and come here? Are we waiting for him?”

“Let’s go inside and wait,” he took long strides, walking towards the apartment, seemingly lost in thought, suddenly he said, “Cold weakens one’s psychological defenses.”

Zhen Ai looked up at the sky, this man’s thinking was too erratic, she racked her brains trying to figure out how to respond to this statement.

Just as they entered the building, he suddenly stopped, Zhen Ai almost bumped into his back, hurriedly braking.

Yan Su turned to look at her, his eyes calm as he walked in, “Owen said when you saw my business card, you remarked that I seemed low-key but actually very arrogant?”

Zhen Ai halted her steps and, still very close to him, looked up at his handsome and calm face, feeling an invisible pressure.

Though awkward, she admitted, “Yes.”

“Arrogant, proud,” he repeated slowly, “while I personally quite like these two words, you probably disagree.”

He continued walking forward after speaking.

Zhen Ai candidly replied, “I wouldn’t say I disagree, just that I think modesty is always good.”

He climbed the stairs with his back straight, his gaze straight ahead:

“I disagree with those who list modesty as a virtue. For a logician, everything should be what it is, evaluating oneself too lowly or exaggerating one’s talents are both violations of truth.”

Zhen Ai was taken aback, and countered with a paradox, “Sherlock Holmes’ ‘The Greek Interpreter.'”

“A Sherlock Holmes fan?” He raised an eyebrow very lightly, a hint of an elusive meaning flashing in his clear eyes, but the next moment, his words were still aloof, “Clearly, I’ve read it in white.”

Zhen Ai wasn’t angry or upset, she didn’t care either way, after a while, she said, “Owen mentioned he would take me out for a birthday dinner later. Will you come?”

“A miraculous decryption journey turns into a warm birthday dinner. ‘Warm’ is a word that suits me perfectly, perfect!”

Zhen Ai chuckled, she had never seen anyone twist sarcasm to such a degree, feeling as awkward as a child.

Yan Su noticed her laughter, his expression becoming serene again, a string of analysis popping into his head.

Her laughter was irrational.

It made no sense logically; from a behavioral analysis perspective, there was no hidden meaning.

Clearly not funny, why was she laughing?

Illogical things made him slightly uncomfortable.

Zhen Ai turned down the corridor, “I’ll take your words as a happy birthday then.”

He fell silent for a moment, conventionally replying, “Happy birthday!”

As they reached the door, she turned back to him, “Owen said you deciphered the death threat code from my resume, can you explain? I’m quite interested in codes…”

Before she could finish her sentence, the door opened automatically, a strong smell of blood hitting them.

Zhen Ai’s hand trembled, an ominous feeling already taking hold, slowly pushing the door open, she saw her roommate Jiang Xin lying in a pool of grotesque blood, a horrifying gash on her neck, blood splattered everywhere.

Yan Su bypassed her, walking in with a calm expression, “Looks like you won’t be able to eat dinner tonight.”