Mythical Qin: I, Gao Yao, will never be a eunuch!

Chapter 1135 Alright, the code is getting too common!

Fan Xian was silent for a moment, then suddenly laughed. His smile held a hint of amusement and a touch of relief.

"It really is you." He sat down opposite Gao Yao, but did not touch the cup of tea. "The owner of Gao's Restaurant suddenly appeared in Kyoto half a year ago, and his business is booming. He has connections everywhere. On the surface, he is just a businessman, but in reality... I'm afraid he's not that simple."

"Hehe, Fan Xian, aren't you afraid of any danger if you suddenly come here?" Gao Yao didn't turn around, his voice so calm that no emotion could be detected. "You should know that behind Gao's Restaurant stands Princess Li Yunrui. If you appear here like this, you could easily disappear."

Fan Xian stopped at the door and took a deep breath. The private room was more elegant than he had imagined. Several seemingly casual yet profound landscape paintings hung on the walls, and a bronze incense burner in the corner slowly emitted blue smoke. A faint aroma of medicine and tea filled the air.

“Now that I’m here, I’m naturally not afraid,” Fan Xian said firmly. “If I were afraid, I wouldn’t have come. But there’s something I want to ask you!”

Gao Yao finally turned around. It was a gentle yet angular face, with a maturity beyond his years in his eyes. He scrutinized Fan Xian, his gaze sharp as a knife, as if it could pierce through skin and reach the depths of his soul.

"Ask away." Gao Yao walked to the tea table and sat down, gesturing for Fan Xian to sit down as well.

Two cups of tea were already laid out on the tea table, the tea soup clear and amber in color. Fan Xian noticed that he had never seen the style of the teacups before—simple lines, a warm texture, more like a product of the so-called minimalist style of that world.

Fan Xian's heart stirred, and suppressing his surging emotions, he tentatively spoke:

"Palace Yuye Liquor?"

Gao Yao picked up his teacup, took a small sip, and without even lifting his eyelids, said, "One hundred and eighty yuan a cup."

Fan Xian's heart raced, and he pressed on, "A rooster that lays eggs?"

"The fighter jet among roosters." Gao Yao put down his teacup, a cryptic smile playing on his lips.

"Sledgehammer eighty?"

"Forty forty forty."

Fan Xian almost stood up: "Heavenly King covers the Earth Tiger..."

"Alright, alright, you're a time traveler, stop asking, it's too much trouble." Gao Yao waved his hand, a hint of helplessness finally showing on his face. "Do you think this is a secret code exchange?"

Fan Xian's eyes lit up instantly. The loneliness of being transported to this world, the inside jokes and memories that only he knew, the homesickness that no one else could understand—at this moment, someone could finally understand.

He almost rushed up to give Gao Yao a hug; it was the excitement of meeting an old friend in a foreign land, the joy of finally seeing a fellow traveler in the long, dark night.

Just as his body leaned slightly forward, Fan Xian's movements suddenly stopped.

The contents of the letter left by Ye Qingmei surfaced in his mind—about the temple, about prehistoric humans, about that mysterious and unpredictable civilization ruins.

If the temple could create robots like Wu Zhu that are almost indistinguishable from real people, if they could resurrect those prehistoric humans and implant their memories, then is this time traveler in front of me really the same kind of person I understand?

Fan Xian slowly sat back down, his excitement gradually replaced by caution. His fingers unconsciously traced the rim of his teacup, and his gaze sharpened once more.

"You're a time traveler..." Fan Xian's voice deepened, "A true time traveler?"

Gao Yao seemed to sense Fan Xian's hesitation. He gently set down his teacup, making a soft clinking sound. The candlelight flickered in the breeze, cutting the light and shadow on his face into two distinct sections.

"You can rest assured, I have no connection with the temple whatsoever." Gao Yao's tone was calm and firm. "I am simply a transmigrator, with no other experiences whatsoever. You can be at ease about that."

Fan Xian breathed a sigh of relief, but he didn't completely let his guard down. He re-examined Gao Yao—this man seemed easygoing, but his every move exuded an indescribable composure and sense of control. It would have been impossible for Gao's Restaurant to rise to become one of the most famous restaurants in the capital in such a short time without strong backing.

"Great, you're a time traveler too." Fan Xian tried to rekindle their initial enthusiasm. "In that case, let's..."

"Wait a minute, Fan Xian." Gao Yao interrupted him, extending a finger and gently shaking it. "You seem to have misunderstood something. It's not 'us,' but 'me.'"

Fan Xian was stunned. He keenly caught the subtle difference in Gao Yao's words, his brain racing as he tried to understand their meaning.

"Hmm? What do you mean by that?" Fan Xian's voice became wary.

Gao Yao didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stood up, walked to the window, and looked out at the night view with his back to Fan Xian. The lights of Kyoto spread out like stars, and the outline of the imperial palace in the distance was faintly visible in the night.

"From a cognitive standpoint, you are a time traveler," Gao Yao finally spoke, his voice calm and utterly unwavering. "But as a time traveler, you were essentially created. Do you understand what I mean?"

“Created…” Fan Xian repeated these words in a low voice, as various clues began to connect in his mind.

"You mean..." Fan Xian's voice trembled slightly.

Gao Yao turned around, and the moonlight shone through the window onto his profile, giving him a cold, silvery edge.

“That’s right, your existence is closely related to Ye Qingmei.” Gao Yao’s tone carried a complex emotion. “Strictly speaking, you are the result of an experiment. You are a real person, but your consciousness and everything in your mind are replicated. Do you understand?”

Fan Xian fell silent. The tea had gone cold, but he was completely unaware. He looked down at his reflection in the cup; his young face swayed slightly in the tea, and suddenly seemed unfamiliar.

He recalled his childhood in Danzhou, those memories of another world—skyscrapers, cars, airplanes, the internet, and smartphones—fragments so vivid they seemed like they happened just yesterday. He had always believed that was evidence of his time travel, the fundamental difference between him and everyone else in this world.

But what if these memories were implanted by someone else? What if you didn't actually come from that world, but were just a "work" implanted with memories from another world?

"How...how do you know all this?" Fan Xian raised his head, his gaze sharp as he looked at Gao Yao.

Gao Yao did not avoid his gaze, but he did not answer directly either: "Strictly speaking, you are not yet capable of knowing the whole truth. Moreover, I suggest that you do not let that robot know about this matter, otherwise it will easily arouse the temple's vigilance."