Site Rule No. 4 stated that only non-living objects could be carried out of sites.
This rule had already been broken. Zhao Meiyou knew that Liu Qijue’s “Creation” ability was ridiculously powerful. He could even fabricate a youthful version of himself and escort it out of the site. Yet even though that young Liu Qijue had successfully left the site back then, he had only lingered in reality for a very brief time.
But could he truly fabricate an entire brain—one that could completely replace his original and function long-term without detection by the nine-hundredth floor?
Xiao Yao seemed to sense Zhao Meiyou’s doubts. “Dean, there’s something you don’t know.”
“The truth is, Father passed away a long time ago.”
Back then, Liu Qijue had been transferred to Antarctica and exploited as one of the first living subjects in the fusion experiments. Fortunate and unfortunate in equal measure, he was among the few who survived the early stages. Later, when the quantum bomb detonated and the number of experimental subjects exploded, he joined their ranks once the archaeologist protocol matured. He became one of the earliest pioneers of the sites.
Just like Diao Chan, who had been forced to attack Zhao Meiyou all those years ago, Liu Qijue had been under the lab’s control, with only fleeting moments of free consciousness. To keep the archaeologists mentally stable, they underwent round after round of brainwashing. Perhaps during one such brain surgery an accident occurred, granting Liu Qijue a rare window of clarity. He seized it decisively, accomplishing a great deal in that limited time.
First, he sought out Little Mister.
Little Mister was a peculiar archaeologist, practically an outsider to the program. Though he had been caught in the quantum bomb’s blast back then, he had been underground at the time, suffering only minimal radiation exposure. As a result, he couldn’t sustain a prolonged lifespan like conventional archaeologists simply by periodically swapping bodies.
The Antarctic Faction deemed Little Mister still useful and spared him, but his brain lacked the necessary resilience, so he escaped the repeated brainwashing. He lived under constant surveillance, venturing out on missions now and then due to his unique abilities. In his brief lucid interval, Liu Qijue altered Little Mister’s next mission brief, changing the target exploration zone to Site A173.
Site A173 was Liu Qijue’s primary stomping ground. He wielded significant control over it, even managing a degree of mental coupling with the quantum field threshold. And so he placed a bet—a bold gamble, really.
Clutching his old grudges and faded dreams, in that once-in-a-century moment of clarity, he voluntarily entered Site A173.
There, he deliberately dissolved himself into the site.
A few days later, following the script Liu Qijue had scripted before his death, Little Mister entered Site A173 to conduct his exploration.
“Father’s death was a death of special significance,” Xiao Yao’s voice echoed through Granny’s Tavern, carried along by the melody of “Fly Me to the Moon.” “He chose to dissolve himself into the site.”
“Site A173 was Father’s home turf. Everything within it bent to his will to a certain extent. So he formed a hypothesis: if one merged with the site voluntarily rather than passively, there was a chance he could preserve his self-awareness.”
Even Zhao Meiyou felt a chill run down his spine at this. Liu Qijue’s research style had always been radical—nothing was off-limits above his moral baseline, though his personal safety often fell below it. That tendency only mellowed after he met Little Mister.
The odds of total annihilation after dissolving into the site were self-evident. One could only imagine the desperation that drove Liu Qijue to such a suicidal act: surrounded by enemies on all sides, no friends or allies in sight, he unhesitatingly staked himself as the final chip. Perhaps he even found it exhilarating and fulfilling. He had played the roles of close friend, husband, and slave. In his life’s final moments, he reverted to that original wild, radical self.
And now, Zhao Meiyou was able to converse with Xiao Yao here in the tavern, which meant Liu Qijue had won his gamble once again.
“After Papa entered Site A173, Father made contact with him. At first, Father’s consciousness flowed unstably within the quantum field threshold, so their initial communications were brief. It took a long time before Father could fully explain his plan to Papa.”
“Once fused with the site, Father gained deeper insight into the quantum field threshold. He realized that the Metropolis was gradually becoming a ‘gate’ between the quantum field threshold and reality. As the number of sites increased, so did the number of these ‘gates’—and that might not be a good thing. Later, Father devised a method. He fabricated some matter inside Site A173 and had Papa try carrying it out. They succeeded. Over time, Papa discovered that matter from the quantum field threshold could persist in reality for longer and longer.”
“From this, Father concluded that the quantum field threshold was eroding the ‘gates.'”
“If the Metropolis continued delving deeper into site exploration, the city itself might one day become part of the quantum field threshold—a site in its own right.”
Zhao Meiyou had plenty of his own theories about what the “sites”—or the quantum field threshold—really were. But as the years of the past resurfaced one by one in his mind, he suddenly lost all interest in probing further. He’d had a premonition back at the Ancient Capital Research Institute. The Metropolis kept building higher and higher, people went mad in Antarctica every year, and more and more technical data was deciphered from the Buddha Head. If they unearthed the true core of it all, what exactly would they face?
Then there was the recollection of Grandma’s Bridge. The past presented in the quantum field threshold might not be entirely accurate, but the timelines matched up. The temple complex that the woman and the youth had carved out during Earth’s pioneering days on that planet was surely the ruins he’d later discovered underwater. When Grandma’s Bridge departed, she had demolished the basin, likely triggering geological shifts that turned it into a mountain lake. He’d only recovered the damaged Buddha Head.
Grandma’s Bridge and the youth had explored the temple complex for a decade. It was unlikely they’d never discovered the quantum technology stored in the Buddha Head. Yet she hadn’t delved into it. Why?
Was that Orion War Records genuine?
What had truly destroyed humanity? Was it really just the war between humans and artificial humans?
The Buddha had once harbored a hidden program that ultimately left the youth and Grandma’s Bridge mutually wounded, with the woman fleeing into the Star Sea. If the Buddha’s existence was malicious, would the bomb it hid beneath its gifts of knowledge be limited to a single intrusion routine?
A profoundly sinister thought flashed through the depths of Zhao Meiyou’s mind: Could humanity’s downfall back then have been due to quantum technology?
He didn’t dare pursue it further.
Fate was so ironic. The temple complex that Grandma’s Bridge had desperately destroyed was the foundation upon which he had built the Ancient Capital. The Buddha computer in those temples had been the culprit behind the tragedy, yet he had devoted his life to restoring it—even going so far as to create Qian Duoduo and fuse the two together.
Zhao Meiyou fell silent for a moment before changing the subject. “So who were The Lead Actor and his ‘mister’ that I encountered later?”
“That was part of Father’s plan,” Xiao Yao replied. “Every version of Father you met during your reincarnations—whether the youthful one or the one performing in the 33-Story Mental Hospital—were all creations of the site.”
“From a practical standpoint, Father died the moment he dissolved into the site. But as his coupling with it deepened, he gained abilities beyond other archaeologists.”
“For instance, the lifeforms he created in the site could persist long-term in reality.”
“That’s why the government never realized Father had died. He kept fabricating versions of himself to stand in as ‘Liu Qijue’ in the real world. He existed in a double sense: deceiving the authorities while searching for a way to end the fusion experiments.”
Zhao Meiyou asked, “Did he find it?”
“Yes. Father ultimately determined that ending the experiment hinged on Qian Duoduo—and Qian Duoduo hinged on you, Dean.”
Putting the pieces together, Zhao Meiyou ventured a guess. “You mean the key is my brain?”
“Exactly. We needed to replace your original brain with one of Father’s creations. That’s why you experienced that kidnapping in the site. Father’s original plan was to perform the brain swap during your final reincarnation, but complications forced us to advance it.”
“What complications?”
“Papa’s body was failing,” Xiao Yao said quietly.
“Papa had suffered limited radiation back then, so his brain couldn’t be preserved indefinitely. Over the years, he and Father tried every method to extend his life. For an ordinary man, his lifespan was already astonishing. But in the end, he would age. He would die.”
Zhao Meiyou recalled, “In Site A173, I met an elderly gentleman whose ability was ‘Poetry.'”
“That was Papa—or more precisely, Father’s creation incorporating a portion of Papa’s self-awareness.” Xiao Yao smiled. “Papa’s health had deteriorated badly before that reincarnation. Father used the gap between the quantum field threshold and reality to preserve a fragment of his consciousness in that fabricated body. But once Papa truly died in reality, the remnant awareness in the quantum field threshold would dissipate too.”
“Papa’s death would hit Father hard. When he suffered that cerebral infarction, Site A173 briefly spiraled out of control. You probably noticed it during your time with him—both The Lead Actor Liu Qijue and the young Liu Qijue showed signs of instability.”
The plan had to be accelerated, before Little Mister died and Liu Qijue lost control completely.
Zhao Meiyou paused, then said, “So in the reincarnation where I was a doctor at the 33-Story Mental Hospital, the The Lead Actor and the youth I met were…”
“Both creations of Site A173—or rather, fragments of Father,” Xiao Yao replied evenly. “I know you went through some things in Site A173. Father’s brief loss of control due to Papa’s impending death caused some deviations.”
“You have my thanks, Dean. Even though you didn’t uncover the full truth of Site A173 at the time, what you did pulled Father back from the brink.”
Zhao Meiyou couldn’t help asking, “And now? What about Liu Qijue and Little Mister now?”
“Papa passed away not long ago, but I think Father was able to say a proper goodbye.” Xiao Yao continued, “The fluctuations from Site A173’s loss of control weren’t as severe as expected.”
Zhao Meiyou remembered encountering The Lead Actor in Site 000 back then. Everyone else had recalled fragments of the past under the Ancient Capital’s influence, but Liu Qijue showed no reaction at all.
Looking back now, that Lead Actor must have been a Creation from Site A173. The site’s fluctuations had left it imperfect, creating flaws—like missing many of the memories that the original Liu Qijue should have possessed.
In the life where Zhao Meiyou had been a doctor at the 33-Story Mental Hospital, the government had discovered someone smuggling a living person out of Site A173 who didn’t belong in the real world. At first, Zhao Meiyou thought that “living person” was The Lead Actor. Later, he believed it was the young Liu Qijue. But now it seemed that Liu Qijue had managed to insert his manufactured selves into reality time and again over the years without detection. There was no reason this one instance would have alerted the government.
Perhaps the shock of the Little Mister’s death had hit him too hard, causing the Creation to slip up. Or maybe the “living person” detected by the government wasn’t The Lead Actor Liu Qijue or the young Liu Qijue at all. Maybe it was Zhao Meiyou’s brain.
The Creation brain that had been used to replace his original one.
“Dad said he was lucky. He got to witness all the magnificent wonders in the quantum field threshold and escape the curse that came with this technology,” Xiao Yao said. “He said everything from here on out was in the dean’s hands.”
“He had regrets in life, but none in death.”
Zhao Meiyou could hardly connect the old man he had met in Site A173 with the persistent kid from the Ancient Capital Research Institute who had doggedly pursued Liu Qijue back in the day. From Little Mister to Gentleman, from youth to old age, he had endured countless cycles of reincarnation under the Buddha’s universal salvation with a mere mortal body—until his death.
No regrets in death.
He had given everything, entering a tomb brimming with hope. From then on, one slept eternally in the site, the other rested in death. Both dreamers, perfectly suited to keep each other company.
The jukebox reached its final line: I love you.
Zhao Meiyou fell silent for a long moment before asking something completely unrelated. “Xiao Yao, does your dad know about the ‘Granny’ persona?”
It was hard to say about Liu Qijue, but the Little Mister in his memory wouldn’t have let his son adopt such a fairy-like seductress image.
“I was rescued by you, Dean, from the 330th floor back then. I’d been sold to a gambling den at a very young age, so I’ve seen and done it all—I’m a pro at the business,” Xiao Yao said with a somewhat shy smile. “Dad and Father both think it’s great. They say the Granny persona has a strangely similar vibe to you, Dean.”
Damn, the kid was even getting shy now. Zhao Meiyou had zero interest in hearing how they were similar.
“Fine,” he said. Then he asked, “So what exactly are you planning to do with my brain? Can you tell me now?”
“Of course.” Xiao Yao nodded. “Let me ask you a question first, Dean. What’s your impression of the Vice Dean right now?”
The Vice Dean of the Ancient Capital Research Institute: Diao Chan.
Zhao Meiyou’s reaction was immediate and unmistakable. The liquid in the Brain Tank turned deep red, waves surging as the goldfish leaped out in fright.
A moment later, Zhao Meiyou said, “…To be honest, it makes me want to puke.”
Even knowing this Diao Chan was a clone, the overlapping memories from countless cycles made it no less shocking that he had never seen Diao Chan kill himself right in front of him.
And right before that scene, Diao Chan had played the priest presiding over the vows. Qian Duoduo’s resounding “I do” had only amplified the gruesome contrast that followed, like a steel stamp slamming into his mind. Zhao Meiyou couldn’t even bear to dwell on it. He had no body right now—that nauseous urge might wipe out every goldfish in the tank.
“It’s not just my stomach churning,” Zhao Meiyou added. “That instant, my brain felt like it exploded.”
“As expected,” Xiao Yao said.
Expected what? Zhao Meiyou suddenly remembered. “Right, what about Diao Chan? Has Liu Qijue or the Little Mister reached out to him? What’s his role in your plan? Is he still alive?”
The tavern door swung open, and someone walked in. “Only now thinking to ask? You really love me, don’t you, Zhao Got None?”
It was Diao Chan.
“Fuck your mom!” Zhao Meiyou exploded in curses. The goldfish in the tank scattered like heavenly maidens strewing flowers. “Diao Chan, fuck your mom!”
“Don’t even try—my mom’s not someone you can handle,” Diao Chan said as he sat at the bar. He turned to Xiao Yao. “No booze. Gimme a salt-water Coke, on ice.”
Zhao Meiyou kept on ranting incoherently. If he had a body right now, he’d have grabbed Diao Chan and beaten him senseless. By the time Diao Chan drained his salted Coke, Zhao Meiyou was still going strong. Finally, Diao Chan covered his ears in surrender. “Alright, alright! I get it, you love me. Can we talk business now?”
“You’re fucking dead, and you wanna talk business?” Zhao Meiyou roared. “Dead! You offed yourself right in front of me! What a real man you are, Diao Chan!”
Diao Chan had no choice but to glance at Xiao Yao. “Isn’t Zhao Got None’s reaction a bit over the top?”
“It’s the brain,” Xiao Yao explained. “Double dose. The brand has already been imprinted, and the dean’s reaction is actually pretty mild. Father predicted it would be even more intense.”
At those words, Zhao Meiyou demanded, “What the hell are you all up to?”
Xiao Yao put on the classic good-boy expression of a junior. “As you can see, Father actually got in touch with the Vice Dean a long time ago. He’s a key part of the plan too. Don’t hold it against him.”
“My suicide was a crucial plot point in the script. Per Liu Qijue’s arrangement, I had to off myself right in front of you, Zhao Got None—and leave a deep impression first. Profoundly deep, like a double whammy,” Diao Chan said, counting on his fingers. “Qian Duoduo’s ‘I do’ was strike one. My death was strike two. Double insurance.”
Zhao Meiyou: “Insurance for what?”
“We needed to imprint a brand on your Creation brain. That brand creates a two-way link between your original brain and the quantum one. So when your original brain faces the same shock, the quantum brain on the other end gets hit too,” Diao Chan explained. “I just checked—the you on the 900th floor got dissected. The quantum brain’s already implanted in Qian Duoduo. Your partner’s about to turn into a Super Saiyan species beyond human understanding.”
“Don’t freak out.” Diao Chan saw the goldfish about to panic again and quickly added, “It’s all part of the plan. Next, we’re going to rebound the shock onto Qian Duoduo’s brain. His mainframe connects to the God Statues’ magnetic field in the Metropolis. A strong enough mental jolt to him will disrupt that field.”
“The Metropolis is being devoured by the Site. It’ll eventually become a new quantum field threshold,” Xiao Yao said. “If we can interfere with the magnetic field, there’s a chance to save the city.”
This time, Zhao Meiyou stayed silent even longer than when he had been cursing. Finally, he spoke. “I think I get it. So you’re using my brain to send a reverse shock to the one inside Brother Qian.”
“Exactly.”
“And how do you pull off the shock?”
Diao Chan stood up from the bar and backed away several steps. Only then did he say, “By repeating the imprinting process.”
“You mean I have to watch you die in front of me over and over.”
