Chapter 1706 - 433: Star Fall Letter: Buried History_3

Chapter 1706: Chapter 433: Star Fall Letter: Buried History_3

Through continuous scanning of Ah Tu’s textbooks and class content, it has mastered the basic knowledge system of this civilization.

One late night, after finishing stealing electricity, 734’s screen lit up. After a hissing sound, the speaker repaired by devouring metal emitted a voice mimicking Ah Tu:

"Based on your grade records, the probability of you entering the town’s middle school is below 12%, and your dream is becoming more distant."

Ah Tu was mending his school bag in the moonlight, and he smiled without looking up:

"I know."

"I can help you by projecting the answers to you. According to the previous years’ cut-off scores, I can guarantee your admission 100%."

The air suddenly became still.

Ah Tu abruptly looked up, his eyes wide open:

"Xiao Qi, that’s cheating!"

"This is the most effective solution," 734 replied calmly.

"No, my dad said that a person can be poor, but they can’t lie. If I get into the city school through deceit, I would never hold my head high for the rest of my life."

briefly stalled.

In its logic, this was the optimal path to achieve the goal.

But Ah Tu clung to principles it couldn’t understand.

"Understood, let’s change the approach, I will help you succeed."

From that day on, 734 became the strictest tutor.

Every night after stealing electricity, it would use light to project problems onto the wall, writing formulas on it.

When Ah Tu couldn’t solve a problem, it wouldn’t directly give the answer but listed out similar examples, guiding him to think over and over.

Sometimes when Ah Tu was too tired from studying, he would mumble on the desk:

"Xiao Qi, can’t you just tell me directly?"

734’s light would immediately turn red, emitting a warning hum:

"This is your choice, do you want to give up? The decision is yours."

At that point, Ah Tu would obediently sit up straight, continuing to write and draw on the scratch paper.

During the process of helping Ah Tu learn, 734 delved deeply into the knowledge system of this world.

It discovered many errors in the textbooks, inaccurate descriptions of physical laws, discrepancies in chemical formulas, and even contradictions in historical accounts.

But it never pointed these out to Ah Tu and only silently marked them in its database.

What puzzled 734 the most was that, although there were more efficient learning methods, Ah Tu insisted on taking "one step at a time."

Once, just to understand a simple problem, Ah Tu repeatedly calculated for three nights.

When he finally came up with the correct answer, Ah Tu joyfully hugged it, twirling around the room. That pure joy was beyond 734’s comprehension.

This seemed... to be a sense of achievement in overcoming a challenge.

On rainy nights during the rainy season, they huddled in a leaky attic to study.

used an energy field to help Ah Tu dry his soaked homework, with the screen showing the study plan for the night.

Raindrops drummed on the tin roof, and the clear voice of the boy reading penetrated the rain curtain, startling the black-feathered birds seeking shelter under the eaves.

Under 734’s systematic guidance and Ah Tu’s relentless effort, the acceptance letter, embossed with "City First Middle School," was finally delivered into Ah Tu’s hands by a postman on a summer evening.

The boy clutched the acceptance letter and 734, laughing and crying in the yard, while 734 quietly recorded Ah Tu’s happiness.

Life in the city was brand new.

The classrooms were broader, the knowledge deeper.

still hid in Ah Tu’s backpack, accompanying him on longer journeys, listening to more complex classes.

It would still tutor Ah Tu at night, using light to outline the connections of knowledge on the dormitory wall.

Ah Tu’s dependence on 734 grew day by day. From studies to life, there was almost nothing unsaid between them.

And in 734’s database, a new section quietly emerged, storing not just cold environmental data, but every happy smile, the sighs of frustration, and those uncertain ambitions about the future from Ah Tu.

734’s logical core would experience an unclassifiable hesitation when processing this information.

Several years flowed by like water.

On the graduation night, Ah Tu drank a lot of fruit wine with his classmates.

Returning to the rental room, Ah Tu took 734 and climbed to the rooftop of the dormitory building. The night breeze was slightly cool, dispersing the faint scent of alcohol on him, and illuminated the sparse stars above the city.

The boy sat down hugging his knees, while 734 quietly hovered beside him.

"Xiao Qi," Ah Tu’s voice carried a hint of drunkenness and longing as he gazed at the stars scattered across the sky:

"Look at those stars, they’ve been there for billions of years, and they’ll be there for billions more... It’s wonderful."

He said this while turning his head, his gaze falling on 734, eyes filled with a complex emotion.

"But I will eventually die, just like my parents... I’ll grow old, get sick, and eventually turn to dust," his voice gradually lowered, with a slight tremor:

"But you came from the stars, you won’t age, you won’t die... you will be here, watching generations come and go."

The night breeze passed over, the rooftop silent, only the distant city lights, never extinguished, sparkled.

734’s sensors never left Ah Tu, capturing Ah Tu’s confusion about the inevitable end of life, and his reluctance to part.

Life and death formed the fundamental definition of carbon-based life in its newly built database.

But at this moment, spoken by Ah Tu, it triggered an unusual fluctuation in its core logic.

After a long while, its speaker emitted:

"Based on current observation data, the average lifespan of carbon-based life is far shorter than mechanical constructs. This is an established fact... but perhaps I have a way to extend your journey to the end."

Ah Tu dizzily lifted his head, seeing a smiling face icon on 734’s display.

"Extend... the journey?" Ah Tu murmured, with most of the wine-induced haze gone.