186: Chapter 185 Social Anxiety Nodes and the Potato Labor Agreement

The negotiations with the potatoes went more smoothly than expected.

This was mainly thanks to the "Provisional Draft for the Protection of Rights and Definition of Obligations for Potato-type Consciousness Entities (V1.2)" prepared by β-2. The draft used the resonance frequency encoding of the green soil ecological network, projecting directly into the potatoes' collective consciousness—if that pile of tubers that could roll around and peel themselves actually had a "collective consciousness."

"The main contents are as follows." β-2's projection floated in front of the mountain of potatoes, its voice as calm as if it were reciting tax law. "First, we acknowledge your status as temporary members of the 'Cradle ecological network derived consciousness entities,' entitled to basic survival rights and limited autonomy. Second, in exchange, you must cease disorderly expansion and assist in maintaining the ecological balance of the seventh to ninth hydroponic zones. Third, labor compensation will be paid in the form of additional lighting duration and nutrient solution rations; specific standards can be found in Appendix 3."

The potato pile was quiet for a few seconds.

Then, an especially large potato with golden patterns on its surface (referred to by the researchers as "Potato Chief") slowly rolled to the front and used its root hairs to scratch a line of crooked characters on the floor:

[Overtime?]

Zhao Yan nearly spat out his coffee nearby.

β-2's cursor flickered. "According to Article 5 of the draft, daily autonomous labor time shall not exceed eight hours; any excess will be compensated at 1.5 times the nutrient solution rate. Weekend labor must be reported twenty-four hours in advance."

Potato Chief's root hairs scratched again:

[Is there annual leave?]

"After working for one full growing season (ninety days), you can obtain seven days of dormancy leave," β-2 pulled up a calendar projection. "But it must be staggered from the harvest period."

Potato Chief seemed satisfied. It rolled back to the potato pile, and the potatoes in the entire back kitchen vibrated slightly at the same time—as if nodding in unison.

The negotiation was a success.

Stardust had been squatting on the shelf the whole time, its starlight body shaking with laughter. "This is the most civilized labor negotiation I've ever participated in. Both sides didn't even mention the 'French Fry Threat'."

Ashes leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "But the problem isn't completely solved. Why did these potatoes suddenly awaken? Why is the technology residue of the 'mother of abundance' only activating now?"

"Because the 'catalyst' has arrived." A strange voice suddenly connected to the communication channel.

It wasn't Stardust, it wasn't Aurora, and it wasn't anyone inside the Cradle. The voice was soft, with a bit of static, as if coming from very far away through a poor-quality microphone.

Everyone looked at the main console simultaneously. An encrypted communication window popped up automatically on the screen, with a background of constantly changing geometric patterns—the emblem of Weaver node GW-002.

"002?" Stardust floated down from the shelf. "You finally decided to show your face? I thought you were going to stay in your conceptual cocoon until the heat death of the universe."

There was obvious... embarrassment in GW-002's voice. "Sorry. The social energy cost is a bit high. But I detected the 'mother of abundance's' green seal activating at your node, and I felt I had to say something—that thing isn't an accident; it's a beacon."

"What do you mean?" Lin Shen walked quickly into the back kitchen.

"Before the civilization of the mother of abundance perished, they buried a 'green seal' in the genes of all their symbiotic plants," 002 explained slowly, as if trying hard to translate complex concepts into the common language. "When the civilization completely died, the green seal would hibernate. But if a new civilization capable of 'possibly understanding their philosophy' appeared nearby, the green seal would awaken and attempt to... entrust their legacy."

Zhou Zhe looked at the potatoes. "Entrust their legacy? Entrust what to us?"

"Their 'civilization essence'," 002 said. "The mother of abundance wasn't destroyed; they self-deconstructed—they decided to abandon individual forms, completely integrate into the cosmic plant network, and become the 'background ecology'. But before giving up, they wanted to find an Inheritor to inherit all their knowledge about 'life symbiosis'."

Ashes frowned. "Why choose us?"

"Because you have divine remains," 002 paused. "More accurately, because the divine remains chose you. The mother of abundance and the divine remains... used to be 'neighbors'. They both lived in the 'Cradle' sector; one managed plants, the other managed rules, and they often visited each other."

Stardust added, "Right. The divine remains helped the mother of abundance optimize photosynthesis efficiency, and the mother of abundance taught the divine remains how to weave wreaths with vines—although the divine remains didn't have hands, it simulated it using the rule field."

The image was too heartwarming, leaving everyone unsure of how to react.

"So the potatoes awakening is because the seed of the divine remains unconsciously emitted a 'old friend is here' signal while in hibernation?" Chu Yunshen summarized.

"Mm," 002 said. "The green seal was activated and began to spontaneously integrate your existing plant systems, attempting to rebuild a small 'abundance ecology'. Those potatoes... count as the first batch of 'interns'."

Potato Chief rolled at the right moment, its root hairs holding up a small sign:

[We learn very quickly.]

β-2: "Do you need to develop a training plan for the interns? I can develop a 'Plant Consciousness Entity Job Skills Standardization Course'."

Lin Shen rubbed his temples. His technology tree system had just popped up a new notification:

[External civilization legacy detected.]

[Legacy name: 'Inheritance of the mother of abundance's green seal'.]

[Accept inheritance? (After acceptance, the 'Plant Symbiosis Technology' branch will be unlocked, but corresponding ecological responsibilities must be assumed)]

He looked at Stardust. "If we accept this inheritance, what will be the consequences?"

"The benefit is that your agricultural and ecological restoration technologies will directly take off," Stardust counted on its starlight fingers. "The downside is that you have to help take care of the 'cosmic gardens' left behind by the mother of abundance—about seven hundred and twenty plant conservation areas distributed across different galaxies. However, those gardens are basically self-sufficient; you only need to go inspect and prune them once every hundred years."

"Sounds like a part-time Gardener."

"And it's unpaid," 002 added softly. "The mother of abundance was very poor and didn't leave any payment. Only... 'friendship'."

The communication channel was silent for a moment.

Then Zhou Zhe said, "Accept it."

Everyone looked at him.

"The divine remains left us the 'Shield of Regret', and the mother of abundance wants to give us the 'Root of Symbiosis'," Zhou Zhe looked at the potatoes, his eyes gentle. "Although they are both troublesome legacies, they are... 'kindness'. In this universe, kindness is scarcer than technology."

Lin Shen nodded and selected [Accept] on the technology tree interface.

In an instant, all the plants in the Cradle—whether they were vegetables in the hydroponic zone, potted plants in the viewing area, or even moss in the cracks of the walls—swayed slightly at the same time. A faint green halo emerged from every leaf, weaving into a complex three-dimensional network in the air, then slowly settled and merged into the underlying structure of the green soil ecosystem.

[Inheritance received successfully.]

[New technology branch unlocked: Plant Symbiosis Technology (Beginner).]

[Currently available technologies: Consciousness Communication (Plant-type), Growth Acceleration (Controllable), Ecological Restoration (Regional level).]

[New responsibility: 'Cosmic Garden' inspection and pruning obligation. Countdown to next inspection: 99 years, 11 months, 28 days.]

Potato Chief and its potato compatriots collectively emitted a faint "hum"—that might have been the plant version of cheering.

That afternoon, in the Observer's Office.

Aurora was writing this week's observation report. The faceless one's golden eyes were fixed on the screen, fingers pausing on the virtual keyboard for a long time.

The main body of the report had already been written, with rigorous and objective wording. But in the final "Civilization Trait Assessment" column, he was stuck.

Finally, he entered:

[Trait No. 007: Non-standard Emotional Defense]

[Performance Case: Logic bomb cracked by 'workplace resentment' emotional meme]

[Assessment: This civilization sublimates daily life pressure into a weapon against high-level threats. This conversion efficiency is abnormal; it is recommended to observe the boundaries of its emotional evolution in the long term.]

[Trait No. 008: Legacy Affinity]

[Performance Case: Successive acceptance of benevolent legacies from extinct civilizations such as the divine remains and the mother of abundance]

[Assessment: May possess a special 'civilization resonance' frequency, easily attracting the goodwill of high-dimensional remnants. Risks and opportunities coexist.]

[Overall Progress Rating: B+ (Stable development, but with a tendency for excessively high unpredictability)]

Just as he clicked submit, Stardust floated in, carrying a watermelon-sized potato—Potato Chief himself.

"Brought you a souvenir." Stardust placed the potato on the desk. "It automatically adjusts office humidity and can play some light music when you want to space out—provided you let it sunbathe."

Aurora's golden eyes stared at the potato. "Plant consciousness entities should not be moved at will."

"It requested it itself." Stardust patted Potato Chief. "Said it wanted to see what the 'supreme leader's' office looked like. I suspect it wants to collect intelligence to negotiate a raise later."

Potato Chief's root hairs swayed gently, scratching on the desktop:

[Just want to learn.]

Aurora was silent for a few seconds, then took a small bottle of nutrient solution from the drawer and poured it next to the potato: "Only this once."

This was probably his way of expressing "acceptance."

Stardust chuckled and floated to the window. "By the way, 002 private messaged me just now, saying the Pruning Faction has been active in the 'Silent Graveyard' sector recently. There are over a dozen civilization remains buried there that died of 'collective despair', which are very suitable for creating... well, 'emotional weapons'."

"Targeted 'emotion-specialized' defense against humans?"

"High probability," Stardust stopped smiling. "They want to find a negative emotion that humans cannot resolve with 'party b power'—like absolute nihilism, or 'desire to give up' that has been beautified to the extreme."

Aurora pulled up the archives of the Silent Graveyard. "That sector is affected by the 'Eternal Whisper' effect; anyone who enters will gradually lose the will to survive. The Executive Court once considered listing it as a restricted zone."

"But the Pruning Faction doesn't care," Stardust said. "They just want to find a weapon that can defeat humans, even if they get trapped in it themselves."

The golden eyes looked at the starry sky outside the window. "We need to prepare response plans in advance. If that kind of 'despair pollution' is truly weaponized..."

"Then use 'hope' to push back," Stardust blinked. "Although it sounds cheesy, isn't what humans are best at turning cheesy things into awesome weapons?"

Aurora did not refute. He just added a note at the end of the report:

[Recommendation: Allow this civilization to retain a certain degree of 'non-seriousness'. This might be their... final line of defense against ultimate despair.]

Late at night, Zhou Zhe's dormitory.

A knock on the door sounded. Zhou Zhe opened it and saw Ashes standing outside, holding two cans of beer—real Dragon Country beer, supplies just arrived from Earth via quantum transmission.

"Shift over. Can't sleep." Ashes was concise. "Chat?"

Zhou Zhe stepped aside. The two sat at the small table and opened the cans. The sound of carbonated bubbles surging was exceptionally clear in the quiet dormitory.

"Your performance in the surgical pod today, very..." Ashes searched for words, "unexpected."

"You mean the part where I scolded party a?" Zhou Zhe gave a wry smile. "Thinking about it afterwards, it's pretty embarrassing. With so many arbitrators watching."

"But it was useful." Ashes took a sip of beer. "The Executive Court trained us to deal with various consciousness attacks, but never taught us... to use anger as a weapon. Our dogma is 'maintain absolute calm'."

"And what if you can't stay calm?"

"Then it means you are undertrained." Ashes paused. "But I have seen too many well-trained people who, when facing true despair, calmly... chose to give up."

Zhou Zhe looked at him. "You've experienced it?"

Ashes was silent for a long time. Outside the window, the Cradle's artificial moonlight filtered through the porthole, casting deep and shallow shadows on the scar on his face.

"My home civilization... died of 'collective calm'," he finally spoke, his voice very soft. "We discovered an asteroid about to hit our home planet. Calculations showed that with our technology, there was a 73% probability we could deflect it. But the council argued for too long—arguing over plan details, arguing over resource allocation, arguing over political changes that might occur after success. By the time they finally decided to act, the time window had passed."

He took another sip of beer. "In the last three months, the entire civilization was abnormally calm. No panic, no chaos; everyone went to work, ate, and dated as usual, as if waiting for an ordinary rainfall. I was in the military academy at the time, and the instructor was still teaching us 'disaster response procedures'—although we all knew the procedures wouldn't be used."

"You escaped?"

"I was one of the members selected for the 'kindling plan'," Ashes turned the can. "One hundred children, sitting on the last escape ship, watching our home planet break into pieces behind us. The other ninety-nine later... had problems. Some fell into permanent depression, some tried to delete themselves, and some joined the Pruning Faction—because they believed that if the home civilization had been 'preventively pruned' back then, it wouldn't have experienced that kind of long and calm despair."

Zhou Zhe's throat tightened. "So that's why you oppose the Pruning Faction's theory."

"I oppose any naive idea that believes 'all pain can be avoided in advance'," Ashes raised his eyes. "Pain, mistakes, regrets are part of civilization. Trying to excise them is like trying to excise your own nerves—you won't feel pain anymore, but you are no longer a living thing."

The two drank in silence.

After a while, Zhou Zhe asked, "So do you... still believe in things like 'hope' now?"

Ashes looked out the window. The starry sky was vast; in some corner, fragments of his home civilization were still drifting.

"I believe," he said. "But not the cheap hope that 'everything will be fine'. But rather... the hope that 'even if it won't be fine, you must continue to do what you should do'."

He paused and added:

"Just like you party b, knowing that party a might change the requirements next time, but still doing the work for this version well."

Zhou Zhe laughed. As he laughed, his eyes felt a little hot.

"To party b." He raised his can.

"To party b." Ashes clinked his can with his.

Beer foam glittered in the moonlight like a miniature galaxy.

In the distance, inside the conceptual cocoon of Weaver node GW-002.

In the center of a pile of constantly changing geometric shapes, a blurry figure was staring at the data stream coming from the Cradle. Its (or her) fingers were tracing something in the void, then suddenly stopped, letting out a very soft "Ah".

The data stream showed that the moment Zhou Zhe and Ashes clinked their cans, a tiny, warm peak appeared in the Cradle's collective consciousness fluctuation.

002 grabbed this peak data and carefully saved it in a folder named [Hope Sample #082]. The folder already contained hundreds of similar fragments: human teams bickering while working overtime on plans, the cafeteria uncle giving an extra scoop of food to those working late, β-2's confused expression when learning "affectation"...

"Not enough yet," 002 muttered to itself. "Need to collect more. When the 'Eternal Whisper' comes... use it as ammunition for them."

It pulled up an encrypted communication interface and sent a message to Stardust:

[Next time, can you let them... try having an argument?]

[Want to see data on 'making up'.]

A few seconds later, Stardust replied:

[Are you watching humans like a reality show?]

[However... can consider arranging a 'budget dispute' exercise.]

002 sent a [ : ) ] emoticon.

Although it had no face, the symbol shone in the void like a small, clumsy kindness.