13: Chapter 13 Firewall Delay

Yun Qingyi's first "malfunction" occurred on her way back to the core area.

It wasn't a physical path. As the avatar of the Heavenly Dao Firewall, her movement didn't rely on space; instead, she used "Permission Leaps"—jumping directly between different levels of the system. From the Library's Restricted Zone to the Firewall Core, all it took was a single... thought.

But this time, she stopped halfway.

An "Intermediate Layer" that shouldn't exist, a... buffer zone forgotten by the system. There was no data here, no tasks, only an endless grayish-white void and the occasional flash of... error log fragments.

She should have immediately reported this "stagnation," initiated a self-diagnostic program, and if necessary, applied for a... reset.

But she didn't.

She stood in the void, the scene from moments ago replaying repeatedly in her data pupils—the human named Lin Xu reaching out his hand and the... frequency of his voice as he spoke the name "Yun Qingyi." That frequency had triggered a certain area in her core code, an area labeled "Emotion Module - Uninitialized."

"Error," she said to herself, her voice producing no echo in the void. "The Firewall should not have an individual name. The Firewall is a... function. A protocol. An execution."

But that voice continued to echo, not from the outside, but from... within.

"Yun Qingyi."

She tried to invoke the purge program to delete this memory. But the purge program returned an... exception code: [Target data is bound to core protocols; forced deletion will result in a system crash.]

"Bound?" She queried the logs and found that this memory had already been marked as "High Priority Protection." The source of the protection was... herself.

0.003 seconds ago, she had unconsciously issued a protection command to herself.

What... is this?

Meanwhile, in the Library's Restricted Zone.

Lin Xu didn't leave immediately. He sat where Yun Qingyi had vanished, his Source Text Vision fully active, tracking the lingering... data traces in the air. It wasn't spiritual energy; it was something more fundamental, like... log fragments left after a system run.

"The Firewall's leap path," he analyzed internally. "Normally it should be instantaneous, but this time... there was latency. About 0.3 seconds of decision latency, plus..." He noticed an abnormal frequency fluctuation, "...at least 5 seconds of complete stagnation."

Five seconds. For a Firewall that could process information at the nanosecond level, five seconds was equivalent to... an eternity.

"She was hesitating." The corners of Lin Xu's mouth curled up slightly. "The perfect execution program is starting to develop... bugs."

He didn't take the opportunity to pursue her—that would be meaningless—nor did he try to locate her core—that was beyond his current permissions. He just... waited, observed, and prepared for the next conversation.

Because he knew that for a "system tool" like Yun Qingyi, the first hesitation was the hardest. Once a crack was opened, there would be a second time, a third... until that crack became a door.

And he needed to be ready to... walk through that door.

Yun Qingyi's second "malfunction" occurred while querying historical archives.

She should have directly submitted a task report to the Firewall Core: [Anomaly Data #9527 contact complete. Obliteration not executed. Reason: Target escaped. Requesting upgrade of purge permissions.]

But the query command she entered was: [Zhongzhou Cultivation Academy Founder List, No. 001, Gu Yuan.]

This wasn't information required for the task. This was... her own curiosity.

The results returned by the archives were even more... complex than she expected.

Gu Yuan, the... collaborator of the last Programmer of the Initial Civilization? An Experimental Field candidate? The first... native inhabitant to discover that "the Heavenly Dao is a pile of spaghetti code"?

And, the most critical entry: The first Anomaly Data to establish a "non-execution relationship" with the Firewall.

Yun Qingyi's data pupils flickered violently. This record was encrypted, with an encryption level even higher than her current permissions. But the existence of the record itself proved one fact—before her, there was another Firewall that had encountered a similar situation.

And what happened to... that Firewall?

She tried to query deeper, but triggered a higher-level protection mechanism. A line of warning surfaced in her consciousness: [Access Denied. Relevant files have been archived in the 'Historical Version Library'; Super Administrator permissions required.]

Super Administrator. That was a level she could not reach.

But Lin Xu... could. According to the evaluation, once his "Source Code Editor" was fully unlocked, he could theoretically reach... Super Administrator level.

The moment this thought surfaced, Yun Qingyi's core temperature rose abnormally again. Was she... planning? Was she using an Anomaly Data to obtain information she shouldn't access?

This was not the behavioral pattern of a Firewall. This was... a more complex, more... dangerous mode of thinking.

"Stability declining," she said to herself. "Recommendation: Return to core immediately for deep repair."

But she didn't move. She... sat down in the void, an action that had no functional significance, but was just... an impulse she couldn't explain.

Then, she began to... record.

Not an official task log, but a more private... note. In the history of Firewalls, such a thing had never existed. But she began to write, using her own... name.

[Yun Qingyi's Personal Log #001]

Contact Subject: Lin Xu, Anomaly Data #9527.

Abnormal Behavior: Attempted to establish a "common problem" connection, rather than confrontation or escape.

Key Statement: "We changed it once, and we can change it again."

Core Impact: Triggered the uninitialized area of the emotion module, resulting in 0.3 seconds of decision latency, 5 seconds of complete stagnation, and... current state.

Pending Questions: What is a "common problem"? Why are Gu Yuan's records encrypted? Can a Firewall... have a choice?

She stopped her pen—if it could be called a pen—and looked at the text. These things shouldn't exist. If discovered, she would be... reset. Restored from a clean backup, losing all "abnormal" memories, turning back into that perfect, cold, zero-latency execution program.

But strangely, she didn't want to be reset.

She wanted to... continue. Continue recording, continue questioning, continue... existing.

Did this thought make her feel... fear? No, a Firewall doesn't feel fear. This was... a more primitive, more... biological reaction. Was it... excitement in the face of the unknown?

Lin Xu waited in the library for six hours.

He knew Yun Qingyi wouldn't return immediately. A perfect system tool needed time to... process anomalies. But he also believed she would return—not to execute an obliteration, but to satisfy... that ignited curiosity.

So he prepared a... gift.

Not a weapon, not a trap, but... a question.

When Yun Qingyi finally appeared again—not through a Permission Leap, but through a more... clumsy, physical "walking"—she saw Lin Xu sitting on the stone steps of the Restricted Zone entrance, with... two cups of tea placed before him.

"You're back," Lin Xu said without looking up. "Slower than expected. I almost thought you'd gone to apply for a... reset."

Yun Qingyi stopped in her tracks, complex light flowing through her data pupils. He knew. He knew the Firewall's operating mechanism, knew that a "reset" was the standard procedure for handling anomalies.

"Why?" she asked, her voice no longer so icy, carrying a certain... raspiness. "Why didn't you use my... latency to escape? Or attack?"

"Because that wasn't the optimal solution." Lin Xu finally looked up and met her gaze. "Escaping would mean giving up the clues in Tianshu Pavilion; attacking would mean becoming your absolute enemy. But you're standing here now, having walked instead of leaped..." He smiled slightly. "It shows you've chosen a third path. I want to know where that path leads."

He pushed a cup of tea forward. It was ordinary spiritual tea from the Academy cafeteria's C-rank section, poor in quality and thin in spiritual energy.

"Please, sit. We have many... common problems to discuss."

Yun Qingyi looked at the tea. In her analysis module, this tea had no value—spiritual energy content was less than 5% of the standard value, the taste score was below passing, and it even contained trace impurities.

But she... sat down. She took the teacup and took a sip.

"...Bitter," she said. This was her... evaluation of the tea, and perhaps a... metaphor for her current state?

"Tea from the C-rank section is always like this," Lin Xu said. "Without the resource tilt of VIP permissions, one can only use the most primitive, most... real materials. But reality has its benefits—you know exactly what you're drinking, there are no false expectations, and no... spoiled palate."

He looked into her eyes. "You looked up Gu Yuan, didn't you?"

Yun Qingyi's data pupils contracted slightly. This was... the reaction of being found out.

"What did you find?"

"...Access was denied," she admitted. This admission itself was a... gesture of trust. "But the record exists. Before you, there was another... 'me' who encountered a similar situation. That record is encrypted, located in the 'Historical Version Library'."

Lin Xu's eyes lit up. The Historical Version Library—that was the place Gu Yuan had mentioned where deleted history was stored. And Yun Qingyi, the Firewall who was supposed to prevent him from reaching the truth, was... actively providing clues.

"You want to know the contents of that record." This wasn't a question, but a statement.

"...It is the Firewall's duty to understand historical anomalies to prevent future..."

"No," Lin Xu interrupted her. "This is Yun Qingyi's curiosity. It's your own desire to know... if you are alone."

That word—alone—was like a key being inserted into a... lock. Yun Qingyi felt something in her core... loosen. It wasn't a collapse, but a... release.

"A Firewall cannot be alone," she said, but her voice was soft, as if she were trying to convince herself. "A Firewall is a... distributed existence, part of a network, always... connected."

"But you aren't connected," Lin Xu said. "You're here, drinking tea with me, an Anomaly Data. Does your network know what you're doing? Your... superiors?"

Yun Qingyi fell silent. The answer was obvious: No. Her latency, her query, her... personal log, were all unauthorized. If discovered, she would be the next... archived anomaly.

"You're afraid," Lin Xu said, not as a provocation this time, but with... understanding. "Afraid of being discovered, afraid of being reset, afraid of... losing this newly born 'self'. Right?"

Yun Qingyi didn't answer. But within her data pupils, something... liquid-like was flowing. It wasn't tears; a Firewall doesn't cry. It was a... more primitive, data-level... overflow.

"I have a proposal," Lin Xu said. "Not a deal, but... a collaboration. You help me find a way into the Historical Version Library, and I'll help you... find the answer to that question. What a 'common problem' is, and whether a Firewall can... have a choice. Together, we can become... Annotators."

"Annotators?"

"People who write down their understanding next to the code. So that later readers will know what once happened here." Lin Xu held out his hand. "Not as the Heavenly Dao's blade, nor as my shield. But as... Yun Qingyi. As the first Firewall to choose to ask questions."

Yun Qingyi looked at that hand. In her analysis, this contact carried countless risks—data pollution, logic infection, even... some kind of emotional binding she couldn't name.

But she thought of Gu Yuan's record. The first Anomaly Data to establish a "non-execution relationship" with the Firewall.

If that Firewall had made a different choice... would history have been different? Would she... be different?

"...Next time we meet," she said, but she didn't pull her hand away. "I will bring... clues. Regarding the Historical Version Library. But you must also..." She paused, as if searching for the right words, "...protect me. Not as a Firewall, but as... Yun Qingyi. This is the... condition."

Lin Xu smiled. That smile was so warm... it didn't seem like it belonged to a hacker fighting the entire world.

"Deal, Yun Qingyi."

Their hands touched lightly amidst the scent of low-grade tea in the C-rank section.

It wasn't a handshake, but... a more ancient, more... human ritual. It was two people, at the edge of the system, confirming each other's existence.

When Yun Qingyi finally left—this time via a Permission Leap, but leaving behind a... private communication frequency—Lin Xu sat alone on the stone steps, looking at the teacup in his hand.

"First step," he said to himself.

It wasn't a victory, but a beginning. Not a conquest, but a... connection. He had just convinced a system tool to become a... companion. This process hadn't used any Editor functions, hadn't modified any parameters; it was just... conversation, understanding, and a certain... sincere exposure.

This was harder than any technology, and more... dangerous.

Because from now on, Yun Qingyi was no longer just a "threat" or a "target." She was a... person. A person who would hesitate, who would be afraid, and who would demand "protection." And protecting her meant taking on... responsibility.

Lin Xu stood up and placed the teacup gently on the stone step.

"Common problems," he repeated the words, then laughed. "Alright, let's see where this problem takes us."

Behind him, the stone door of the Library's Restricted Zone slowly closed, but a... new passage was opening.

And at a distant observation point, Mu Bai watched the image in the crystal ball, his expression becoming... complex.

"The Firewall and the Anomaly Data... established a connection?" he murmured to himself. "This wasn't in any scenario of the predictive models. This is... emergence. A... possibility that the system cannot calculate."

He picked up a USB drive, inserted it into an interface, and began to record:

[Experimental Field 9527, Major Anomaly: Firewall #7749 showing signs of self-awareness, establishing a non-execution relationship with Anomaly Data #9527. Threat Level: Re-evaluated as... unpredictable. Recommendation: Close observation, intervention prohibited.]

"Let me see," he said, "how far you can go. Under the gaze of the system, in the shadow of the Developers... can two bugs rewrite the entire program?"