Xing Bi’s question took Curator Wu by surprise. In his understanding, bioroids rarely cared about their own lifespan—and humans cared even less.
Especially humans today.
The world now was no longer the same world from the golden age of bioroids. Even the fragile humans, who could die from just one mishap out in the wild, far outnumbered the bioroids.
Whether in Yun City, in ruined cities, or across the perilous wastelands, bioroids were more often legends than reality.
And as one of the very few humans in this world who actually understood bioroids, Curator Wu had never thought about this question either.
What people usually considered was whether a bioroid could be activated, whether it could be controlled, whether it was dangerous—their strength, their thoughts, their emotions…
As for lifespan—well, they had already lived long, and might live much longer still.
“I’m sorry,” Curator Wu said.
“Hm?” Xing Bi glanced at him. “That came out of nowhere. Want to throw in a bow while you’re at it?”
“I’ve never thought about this question before,” Curator Wu said. “Your lifespan.”
“For humans, it’s understandable not to think about it,” Xing Bi replied.
“I don’t know if we can even test it,” Curator Wu said. “If needed, I can try—maybe use the methods we use for humans to estimate it. It won’t be accurate, but we can refine it over time.”
“Okay,” Xing Bi responded with a simple hum, saying nothing more.
“Why do you ask?” Curator Wu sat down in a nearby chair.
“Have you ever had someone—or something—that you just couldn’t let go of?” Xing Bi asked. “Something you were attached to?”
Curator Wu was silent for a moment. Then he exhaled softly. “Not anymore, maybe. But I used to. My wife.”
“You had a wife?” Xing Bi asked.
“She’s been gone over ten years,” Curator Wu replied. “Fungal infection.”
“I see,” Xing Bi said quietly.
“When she died, I felt like there was no point in staying alive either,” Curator Wu said. “In this world, partings and death are just too common, too normal. There’s no comfort to be found. Everyone’s been through it—spouses, parents, children…”
Xing Bi didn’t say anything.
“Is it because of Qiu Shi?” Curator Wu asked.
“Your reaction”, Xing Bi said with a slight smile.
“Bit slow, I know,” Curator Wu chuckled. “These days, I don’t even think about such things anymore. It’s hard enough for humans to survive in this world. Those who grow old together are few and far between. Most people… live out their lives in solitude. Long or short, it doesn’t make much difference.”
“Mm,” Xing Bi hummed again.
“I’m not good with words. Can’t say anything deep,” Curator Wu said. “All I can do is try to help you run the test. But… no matter how much time you have left… it’s something you’ll eventually have to face. After all, there aren’t many like Li Feng—who lived over thirty years and still only ever loved his own twisted self.”
Xing Bi laughed. “You’ve really got a grudge against that guy, huh? Can’t even comfort me without getting in a jab.”
“I’m not really trying to comfort you. You’ve been through a lot and seen a lot. And your teacher—he was such a formidable professor,” Curator Wu said. “I guess I’ve just been getting sentimental lately.”
“Thank you,” Xing Bi said.
“We’re not moving.” Hu Xiaoling waved his arm around, gesturing at their surroundings. “This shelter, even if it’s no longer useful one day, is still our home.”
“True,” He Jiang said, biting into a can of food. “Back in Xima Town, staying in the dorms didn’t feel right.”
“This area won’t be moved either,” Zhao Lü said quietly, sitting next to Qiu Shi. “It’s off-limits to outsiders now.”
“We’ve got some status,” Hu Xiaoling said.
“Status, my ass,” Qiu Shi replied. “Half of our ‘status’ is thanks to that pit where we dumped bodies. You think that place can be casually approached?”
“Damn,” Zhao Lü laughed. “Do you have to crush our spirits like that?”
“Where’s Xiao Lei?” Qiu Shi asked.
“He’s swamped,” Zhao Lü replied. “He’s not just the bullied errand boy of the corpse collection squad anymore. Got people under him now. Even we have to call him ‘Captain Xiao’.”
“But the guy hasn’t changed a bit,” Hu Xiaoling said. “Still the same…”
“Qiu Shi!” someone called from outside.
“You hear that tone?” Hu Xiaoling said.
Xiao Lei came in covered in dust and rock fragments. Before Qiu Shi could dodge, he was already standing in front of him, eyes glistening with tears.
Qiu Shi really didn’t want to hug him, but he hesitated for just one second—just one—and feared Xiao Lei might start silently crying, so he quickly gave him a hug and patted him on the back.
“Ugh, that dust!” the group cried out.
Xiao Lei smiled. “We just blasted a rock wall—clearing space.”
“You’re working too?” Qiu Shi asked.
“They’re all refugees—weak, slow learners. Even if you teach them, they don’t always get it,” Xiao Lei sighed. “I’m afraid if I let them handle explosives, they’ll all die before the job gets done.”
“Be careful, alright? What are you building now?” Qiu Shi patted his arm—raising another Yun of dust, prompting another chorus of groans.
“A school,” Xiao Lei said. “Almost done. Eight classrooms. Pretty big—comparable to the ones in the Inner City. We’re blasting rock to make a playground. Director Lu from Urban Development said every school needs one.”
“Mm,” Qiu Shi’s expression turned evasive at the word. “So… school’s about to start?”
“Yeah. You all should be going to school,” Xiao Lei said, glancing at Zhao Lü and the others.
“Screw—thaaat—” the group groaned in chorus.
“You’re gonna teach?” He Jiang looked at Xiao Lei. “I’m honestly afraid the refugee kids will beat you up.”
“Not me—I’m not qualified,” Xiao Lei replied. “We’ve got real teachers. One of them Qiu Shi knows.”
“Who?” Qiu Shi immediately tensed. Though he already had a name in mind, it still annoyed him to no end.
“Li Rui. Teacher Li,” Xiao Lei said.
“Oh, for fu—” Qiu Shi started.
“Who’s that?” Zhao Lü asked. “From outside the walls? There are still teachers out there?”
“A…” Qiu Shi struggled for words. “A pretty good kid. Knows a lot. Reads the old classics. Tells stories we’ve never heard.”
“How old?” Hu Xiaoling, youngest of the corpse squad, immediately perked up.
“Fifteen,” Qiu Shi said.
“Holy shit,” Hu Xiaoling was stunned.
“I’m definitely not going to school,” Qiu Shi said firmly to Xing Bi while sitting in the vehicle. “You know who the teacher is?”
“It’s not just Li Rui,” Xing Bi replied. “There are others—three of them are bioroids.”
“Li Sheng, San Ye and a bunch of bioroids teaching together?” Qiu Shi looked even more shocked.
Xing Bi chuckled. “Some are human, some are bioroids. Li Rui does have a broad knowledge base, reads a lot, and his background is unique—he’s suitable for teaching refugees and drifters.”
Qiu Shi thought about Li Rui’s “background” and clicked his tongue. “What, is he going to chop someone down mid-lesson if they don’t study hard?”
“Well, if the students think they might get chopped up for slacking off,” Xing Bi said, “maybe they’ll behave better.”
“…What kind of messed-up school is this?” Qiu Shi muttered.
“The kind Li Feng once promised you,” Xing Bi said with a smile. “A school that actually improves the quality of education for refugees.”
Li Feng had indeed made that promise. Though Qiu Shi hadn’t taken it seriously at the time, seeing that the first thing built in the expanded outer city—before shelters or supply stations—was a school, he felt… something hard to explain.
“Where are we going?” Qiu Shi asked.
After getting his injuries checked in the lab, he had gotten in the car with Xing Bi. It had been driving for a while before he thought to ask—because this was a road he’d never taken before.
“Yun City’s military base,” Xing Bi replied.
“What?” Qiu Shi sat upright and looked around, noticing Li Feng’s vehicle following closely behind.
“We’re preparing to destroy the General’s brain,” Xing Bi said.
Qiu Shi was momentarily stunned. He had no particular opinion about the General’s brain. After seeing the brains in the 249 video and those in the research institute, he too wished no one’s brain in this world had to be soaked in liquid, wired up, and manipulated.
But that wasn’t the first thing he thought of.
“Does that mean… all of his memories, the ones we accessed before,” Qiu Shi said softly, “are gone too?”
“Yes,” Xing Bi replied.
“And the last bits of consciousness the teacher had… they’re gone too?” Qiu Shi asked.
“Yes,” Xing Bi said again.
Qiu Shi said nothing more, just sighed softly.
“This is life,” Xing Bi said. “A constant string of farewells—to those we care about, to those we hate, to the familiar, to friends, comrades, family… lovers.”
Qiu Shi reached out and pulled Xing Bi into an embrace, his hand gently stroking his face before drawing him closer. Xing Bi leaned over and rested his head on Qiu Shi’s lap.
“Curator Wu said Wang Hong and Zhang Tan have been put into the hibernation pods,” Qiu Shi said in a very soft voice. “Humans can go into them too…”
“No,” Xing Bi cut him off firmly, not letting him finish his thought. “I don’t want you to become someone who exists only to fulfill my emotional needs.”
Qiu Shi ruffled his hair.
“We did all this so we could live better in the present—as humans, as bioroids,” Xing Bi said. “Not as someone’s appendage, not existing for someone else, not being controlled.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi nodded.
“And don’t even think about trying it,” Xing Bi added. “Those hibernation pods are designed based on the characteristics of bioroids. It might work for a short time, but if you stay in too long, you might just end up a dried-out corpse.”
“Fu-ck,” Qiu Shi laughed. “I wasn’t planning on using the pod, but you didn’t have to disgust me like that.”
“Your enhancement system already accelerates your body’s self-repair and boosts various functions,” Xing Bi said. “As long as you don’t blow yourself up with a homemade bomb, you’ll live longer than the average human.”
“Fu-ck your ancestors. We’re just talking; no need to bring up old dirt and insult me,” Qiu Shi said.
“Just a reminder,” Xing Bi said. “You’d better live carefully—for my sake.”
“Mm.” Qiu Shi nodded again.
Just then, Xing Bi’s little companion device buzzed. Before he could grab it, it connected automatically, and Li Feng’s voice came through: “Checkpoint up ahead. Are you two done fooling around? Sit properly.”
“Fu-ck!” Qiu Shi was furious. He turned and pointed at Li Feng’s vehicle behind them, though he couldn’t tell if Li Feng was in the passenger seat or not. “What the hell’s in your head? Fooling around? What the fu-ck could we even be doing?”
“Sit down,” Li Feng said.
“Nope,” Qiu Shi replied, and smacked Xing Bi—who had been about to sit up—back onto his lap.
“Fine,” Li Feng said.
They had indeed arrived at the checkpoint. When Qiu Shi looked ahead, the soldiers were already raising a stop sign and walking over to their vehicle.
The driver rolled down the window.
“Get up, get up,” Qiu Shi jiggled his knee. “Come on, get up—fu-ck, people are coming.”
Xing Bi laughed as he sat up and leaned back into his seat.
“Nope”, Li Feng said again.
“End the call!” Qiu Shi shouted.
Xing Bi ended the call and tucked the little companion device back into his pocket.
One of the soldiers looked in from the driver’s side and gave them a salute. “Captain Qiu, Captain Xing.” Then he gestured for them to proceed.
The vehicle entered a spiral tunnel that led downward. They drove for quite a while before stopping in what appeared to be a small underground parking area, where two cars were already parked.
Colonel Yu and Colonel Xu were waiting for them.
Qiu Shi hadn’t seen Colonel Xu since she was transferred out of the operations group. Seeing her now, it looked like she had aged several years—she seemed tired.
“Colonel Xu,” Qiu Shi greeted as he got out of the car.
“It’s been a while,” she looked at him. “You’ve changed.”
Qiu Shi didn’t respond.
“Let’s head inside,” said Colonel Yu. “Everything is ready. We’ll begin as soon as everyone’s here.”
Li Feng stepped forward and touched a small panel beside a door. A keypad popped out, and he entered a code. The door opened silently.
He let Colonels Yu and Xu go in first, then the others followed.
Qiu Shi had never been to this place before. Whether Xing Bi had, he didn’t know. It looked almost identical to the brain-connection room in the exhibition building.
Given the nature of the place, Qiu Shi didn’t understand why Colonel Xu would be present. He had thought she wouldn’t be involved in any more core operations.
Li Feng clearly noticed his confusion. As they walked, he operated his little device, which flew behind him and projected a line of text onto his back:
The General’s only remaining descendant.
The words vanished before Qiu Shi fully processed them. Then it hit him—it was referring to Colonel Xu.
Shocked, he turned to look at Xing Bi, who simply shrugged, indicating that this was news to him too.
It was clear that Colonel Xu hadn’t known the General still had a brain preserved—or maybe she didn’t know it had ever been preserved.
When she saw the brain floating in a glass tank, she swayed slightly.
Qiu Shi had seen many brains before. This one looked no different from the others: same preservation method, same setup.
There weren’t many people who had witnessed the General’s death. Aside from those just arriving, Curator Wu and Mr. Long were also present.
Everyone stared in silence at the brain, floating quietly in its fluid with wires attached.
“Thank you, General,” Li Feng began, “for all you’ve done for Yun City over the years. The residents will always remember your sacrifices. You’ve worked hard.”
Qiu Shi had no idea how Li Feng managed to speak those words so earnestly, as if he were talking to a dying man on his bed, not a brain in a tank.
“After your departure, Yun City will continue to move forward,” Li Feng said. “We’ll strive to become a true utopia, a safe haven for those who still want to survive in this world.”
He made a hand gesture to Xing Bi—after all, only he had ever terminated a brain before.
Xing Bi’s actions were simple. He walked over, found the power system, looked at Li Feng, and flipped the main switch.
As the liquid in the tank began to Yun, the brain trembled slightly. Bits of tissue began to fall away from the surface.
No one knew if the General had preserved the brain in hopes of resurrection, or for some other reason. Mr. Long might know. Li Feng probably did too. But they would never speak of it.
With the disappearance of this brain, the pursuit of immortality was put on pause.
The room watched as the tank grew completely opaque. The brain was gone. Only a few wires floated in the liquid.
“Mr. Long, please notify the residents of Yun City,” Li Feng said. “The General has sadly passed away. Colonel Yu will now take over the General’s duties. Minister Liu has already prepared the announcement.”
Mr. Long said nothing and turned to leave.
Colonel Xu stepped forward, stared into the tank for a while, then silently turned to go.
“Colonel Xu,” Colonel Yu called after her, “your resignation report won’t be approved. Yun City needs talents like you.”
“I understand,” Colonel Xu said, glancing at Li Feng before slowly walking out.
“How do we deal with this?” Curator Wu asked, looking at the tank.
“Seal the room,” Li Feng said.
“How?” Wu asked.
“Concrete it in,” Li Feng replied.
“I’ll arrange it,” Colonel Yu said.
“Let’s disperse,” Li Feng turned and walked out. “Everyone’s tired. Take a break. The real work has no end.”
Back at the parking lot, Qiu Shi and Xing Bi got in their car. Just as they were about to close the door, Li Feng climbed in too. “We’re going to the lab.”
“Didn’t you just say we should take a break?” Qiu Shi asked.
“We’re not ‘everyone,’” Li Feng replied.
“What for?” Xing Bi asked.
“The symbionts who volunteered for the reverse experiment are showing promising results,” Li Feng said. “Curator Wu wants to try it on Zheng Ting. Also, since you two were planning to go enjoy your ‘couple time’—I’ve got a little side task…”
“You really know how to work people to death!” Qiu Shi kicked the seat next to Li Feng.
“Two people, actually,” Li Feng said. “What else can I do?”
“What’s the task?” Xing Bi asked.
Li Feng gave him a look. “Lao Wu developed some reagents from the base’s experimental data. They can kill fungi, but the effects are unstable. And since there’s more than one type of fungus, we need…”
“You need us to carry the reagents out and test them on different fungal species,” Xing Bi said.
“Right,” Li Feng said. “And while you’re at it…”
“Fuck your ancestors, Li Feng!” Qiu Shi was both angry and amused. “Stop pretending it’s a side task—just say it’s a mission!”
“Missions have deadlines and reports,” Li Feng said. “You two don’t.”
“You really dare say that with a straight face. I admire that,” Qiu Shi said. “Testing the ‘Pathway’ you keep talking about, developing anti-fungal agents—none of this can afford delays. None of it can go unreported if something goes wrong!”
“Have a nice trip,” Li Feng said. “My suggestion—head south from Xima Town.”
“I’m not going!” Qiu Shi said.
“Then here’s your new mission,” Li Feng said. “Head south from Xima Town…”
