Future Love Contract (GL) - Chapter 18

On the way to the final selection, Zhao Xinyun was so nervous that her palms were drenched in sweat, and her mind was completely blank—she couldn’t think of anything. In truth, Gresya wasn’t faring much better.

She had heard the selection ratio this time was extremely low and felt just as uncertain. Still, she felt that at the very least, she needed to appear more confident than Zhao Xinyun on the surface.

That way, she could boost her morale and cheer her on, though she wasn’t sure why she had this instinct. Gresya tried to find humorous topics to lighten the mood, but with both of them so tense, her efforts had little effect. The journey felt like an eternity.

They finally arrived at the designated location. After saying goodbye to each other, they verified their identities and entered separate rooms.

Zhao Xinyun went through a series of “tests.” Throughout the entire process, she kept telling herself to stay calm, but her hands were almost trembling. She had no idea if the evaluators had noticed how nervous she was.

After it finally ended, she was informed that one of the test results would require a two-hour wait. Her first reaction was to look for Gresya.

In such an emotionally tense moment, she suddenly wanted Gresya by her side, just to pass the time—even if it meant exchanging a few lame jokes that neither of them had the heart to laugh at.

Did this feeling mean something?

Normally, she might have thought it through, but at this moment, she had neither the energy nor the clarity to dig into what her feelings for Gresya actually meant.

Her request to see Gresya was denied by the staff.

They told her that according to protocol, all participants must remain in designated areas until all procedures were completed and no one was allowed to move around freely.

Moreover, the final selection was independently evaluated for each candidate, and not all participants underwent the same tests, so the time required could vary greatly.

In other words, even if she were allowed to look for Gresya, it wouldn’t necessarily help—Gresya might still be undergoing her tests. Zhao Xinyun sighed and found a place to sit down.

Still, the staff handed her a tablet according to standard procedure.

Although she had reached the final stage, the chance of being selected was still slim.

Many applicants who signed up in a rush later dropped out for various reasons, so the tablet didn’t contain anything except information about the interstellar exploration program.

The internet had been disabled on the device, and Zhao Xinyun guessed it was to prevent any details of the final selection from leaking.

Seriously? It’s not even a real exam! Just a few more hours—what’s the big deal? she grumbled inwardly.

She didn’t realize that the media outside had already been closely following the process, with their articles practically prewritten.

Still, the information on the tablet was more than enough to occupy her. Two hours wasn’t short, but it wasn’t too long either—just enough to pass the time.

She tapped on the first page, and a staff member told her that if she were ultimately selected, the material on the tablet would be part of her training curriculum.

Upon hearing that, Zhao Xinyun stopped browsing casually and began to seriously study the material, trying to immerse herself in it to ease her anxiety.

The two hours passed quickly. A staff member raised his right hand to signal for her to follow. Only then did Zhao Xinyun realize from the figure’s back that this staff member wasn’t human—it was a robot.

But this wasn’t surprising. The robot’s tasks were just simple procedural ones, which didn’t require complex technology in this era.

What did surprise her was that there was a small group of people waiting for her at the end of the hallway.

They all looked like typical experts and researchers, and the expressions in their eyes were full of barely contained excitement.

At first, Zhao Xinyun felt relieved and happy, thinking perhaps they were pleased she passed the selection. But then another worry crept in—had they discovered she was a transmigrator? The greater the hope, the greater the disappointment—what if she didn’t make it after all?

She instinctively wanted to put her hands in her pockets to hide her nervousness, but then she realized her special outfit for today didn’t have any pockets.

She let her hands drop and fixed her gaze on what seemed to be the leader of the group. There was a small screen on his chest displaying his name.

After some hushed conversation among the group, the man stepped forward and said to her:

“Hello, Ms. Zhao Xinyun. Our tests show that your brainwaves exhibit a special frequency that is particularly suited for communication with extraterrestrial lifeforms. This is part of our latest research. So regardless of your other test results, we will do everything we can to ensure you are selected. This also applies during training. However, this does not mean you can relax during training. On the contrary, because we have higher expectations of you, the intensity of your training will exceed that of others. You must be mentally prepared. Of course,” he added with a smile—though his stern face wasn’t made for smiling, so it ended up more awkward than reassuring—“we will assign specialized psychological counselors for this.”

Zhao Xinyun almost flinched at the mention of psychological counselors. Good thing Luo Peichen isn’t here, she thought.

She opened her mouth, about to ask, “What about Gresya?” but reconsidered—these people might not know, and even if they did, they might not tell her. So she stayed quiet.

“Do you have any questions?” the man asked when she didn’t respond, trying to break the silence.

“Um… what exactly is this brainwave frequency? What determines a person’s frequency?” Zhao Xinyun asked after a brief moment of thought. It seemed like a safe and appropriate question.

“It’s quite complicated to explain,” the man replied. “You’ll learn more about it during your upcoming training. As for what determines the frequency—it’s in your genes.”

“Is there anything else I need to do today?” she asked.

“We need to reconfirm your brainwave frequency,” the man said. “This differs from regular brainwave analysis.

It’s a new discovery, so standard equipment won’t do. Please follow us.” Zhao Xinyun nodded and followed them.

She looked around. Every room she had seen earlier was bright, spotless, and sterile—almost like a hospital.

In contrast, this room was filled with bulky, ugly-looking machines, clearly hastily assembled. Some looked unfinished, like something in Second Base, while others had no proper casing at all—just temporary dust covers.

She glanced at the researchers and concluded that they were definitely the type who wouldn’t bother with proper exteriors.

Zhao Xinyun spent more than two hours being directed from one device to another in that room.

During this time, she began to worry about Gresya—not her safety, but rather that she had probably finished a long time ago, since she likely didn’t possess the same rare brainwave frequency.

Gresya was probably wondering where she’d gone. There was no way to send a message saying, I’m testing my brainwaves, just two more hours—hang tight… And what if Gresya didn’t get selected? What then?

We’ll see, Zhao Xinyun thought. She remembered Gresya once mentioned something about accompanying family members in the expedition. If worst comes to worst, maybe that’s an option…

She let her mind wander while the researchers worked busily at the other end of the room. Finally, the lead researcher stepped forward and clapped his hands, as if brushing off invisible dust.

“After repeated verification, we’ve confirmed that your brainwave frequency meets our criteria,” he said. His expression was calmer now than when she first saw him.

“Welcome to the interstellar exploration program.” He gave her that same awkward, skin-deep smile again.

Though Zhao Xinyun found his expression comically stiff, she could tell he sincerely meant to be welcoming. So she returned the gesture and earnestly replied, “Exploring space has always been my dream. Thank you for giving me the chance to make it come true.”

As soon as she left, the first thing she did was look for Gresya, her face brimming with uncontrollable joy.

“Why are you so excited?” Gresya asked with a smile.

“Because… I’ve been officially confirmed for the space mission!” Zhao Xinyun beamed as she recounted her strange experience from earlier. “I can’t believe how clueless I was—I didn’t even realize that staff member was a robot…”

“I’m so jealous of you,” Gresya said thoughtfully, resting her chin on her hand. “The staff told me that my results won’t be ready for another three days.”

Zhao Xinyun didn’t know how to respond to that and fell silent. Later, she had an idea and dragged Gresya to the amusement park.

They didn’t go on any of the thrilling rides—after all, they’d had enough adrenaline for one day and didn’t need anything else making their hearts race even faster.