“A forged distress beacon bolted inside a fake rock,” Gu Changsheng said, squatting beside the northern garden fence as the crimson light inside the pitted grey casing blinked once every two seconds. “And look at the rune stamp on the transmitter coil. Heavenly Script Pavilion standard issue.”
Twelve-year-old Gu Nian’s eyes narrowed. Black-gold Chaos Qi curled around his right fist like dark smoke.
“Give me half a second, Dad,” Gu Nian said, reaching for the garden gate latch. “I’ll pinch it into iron powder.”
“Hold your horses, Nian’er.”
Thirteen-year-old Ye Xiao held out his [Homework-First Bamboo Ruler Sword] to block his younger brother’s arm. His spectacles glinted as he studied the pulsing red crystal inside the buoy.
“If you crush the casing while the transmitter is active, the sudden loss of signal will confirm our exact position to whoever is listening on the other end,” Ye Xiao explained briskly. “Look at the frequency wave.
It’s locked onto our secondary spirit-stone auxiliary boilers. Every time our kitchen chimney vents pure Qi, the buoy relays our vector toward the Broken-Tooth Asteroid Belt.”
Gu Changsheng nodded approvingly and patted Ye Xiao’s shoulder. “That’s why we keep a class president on the bridge. Never smash a spy bug when you can feed it garbage data first.”
