241: Chapter 240 The Night of Seed Formation, Ripples on the Road Home, and Old Zhang's Harvest Festival

Night in the Integration Pod: Fullness's Signal

The third day since Fullness left.

Chen Mo sat in the optoelectronic hybrid computing center, staring at the homeward path extending on the light screen. Fullness's ship was carrying that Storm Civilization, speeding through the space-time folding channel toward that gas giant.

Everything was normal. Error less than one ten-thousandth.

But he always felt something was wrong.

“β-2,” he spoke, “run Fullness's path data again.”

β-2 was silent for three seconds, then said: “It has been run seventeen times. All normal.”

“Then why...” Chen Mo paused, “I always feel like something is ‘watching’ that road?”

β-2 fell silent again.

This time, the silence lasted longer.

Then, it said: “Your intuition is not wrong. Within the past seventy-two hours, the temporal anomaly signals I've monitored have increased to twenty-three. Five of them appeared near Fullness's path.”

Chen Mo's heart tightened.

“Will it affect her?”

“Not currently. The signal strength is extremely low, insufficient to interfere with the space-time folding channel. But if the signal continues to strengthen...” β-2 didn't finish.

But Chen Mo understood.

He stood up and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?” β-2 asked.

“To find Zhou Zhe.”

green soil Experimental Zone: The Shape of Time

Zhou Zhe closed his eyes, his pure white Poem Markings glowing slightly.

He was “feeling” those time ripples.

Not with any instrument, but in the way the “Thank You” civilization taught him—perceiving with existence itself. Those ripples were too faint, so faint they almost didn't exist. But they were indeed there.

Moreover, they had a shape.

Not circular, not wavy, but a more complex, ancient shape—like the rings of a tree, layer upon layer, spreading outward.

Each ring represented a period of time.

The innermost layer was the smallest and brightest. Was that... the most recent time?

Zhou Zhe didn't know. But he knew the center of those rings pointed in one direction.

He opened his eyes and looked in that direction.

It was the direction of the Hive.

Not the current Hive, but... the Hive from a long, long time ago?

He was stunned.

Then, he stood up and walked toward the door.

Lin Shen happened to push the door open and enter.

The two almost collided.

“I was just looking for you,” Lin Shen said.

“Me too,” Zhou Zhe said.

They glanced at each other and spoke simultaneously:

“The center of the time ripples is the Hive.”

“There's a problem with the Hive's past.”

Then, the two fell silent.

Mars: Seed-Setting Night

Martian potato field.

Tonight, little cabbage was going to set seed.

Potato Chief's projection hovered above it, motionless. Nearby, the “firefly ones” stopped their chorus, and the entire potato field was silent. The “flickering” of the Crystal Cores stopped, and the “breathing” of the rings stopped.

All existences were waiting.

little cabbage's flowers, under the starlight, emitted a faint silver glow. Those silver lights grew brighter and brighter, and then—

The petals began to fall.

Not withering, but “letting go.” Piece by piece, they drifted down gently, landing on the Martian soil, on the potato leaves, and on Potato Chief's projection.

With every petal that fell, little cabbage trembled slightly.

After the petals had all fallen, a tiny green protrusion began to appear at the site of the receptacle.

That protrusion slowly grew, slowly rounded, and slowly became—a seed.

One. Two. Three.

Seven in total.

Seven tiny, pale green seeds hung on the now-bare receptacle, glowing faintly under the starlight.

little cabbage sent out an extremely faint signal, weaker than any time it had spoken before, but everyone “heard” it:

“I... did it.”

Then, it fell silent.

Not dying, but “resting.” Setting seeds had consumed almost all of its energy. It would take a long, long time before it could “speak” again.

Potato Chief was silent for a long, long time.

Then, it said softly in the rhythm of the potatoes:

“You did it. We are watching you. We will wait for you to wake up.”

In the potato field, the “firefly ones” resumed their chorus. The song was lighter and softer than before, like a lullaby.

The Crystal Cores began to “flicker,” one by one, like blinking eyes.

The rings began to “breathe,” deeply and shallowly, like snoring.

Seven tiny seeds waited quietly under the Martian starry sky.

Earth: Old Zhang's Harvest Festival

Earth, a small southern county town.

Old Zhang's third crop of potatoes was harvested.

Two whole large baskets, dozens of them, large and small, round and golden, with the fresh scent of soil.

Old Zhang squatted in the vegetable patch, looking at those two large baskets of potatoes, chuckling.

His wife scolded him from the side: “What are you laughing at? Hurry up and move them back!”

Old Zhang ignored her, took out his phone, and took a dozen photos of the two large baskets of potatoes.

Then, he picked out the three roundest and largest ones, washed them clean, and placed them on the stone table in the courtyard.

“These are for Mars,” he said. “Next time we send seeds, we'll send these along.”

His wife froze for a moment: “Aren't there potatoes on Mars?”

“There are, but those are theirs. These are ours. It's different.”

His wife didn't speak again, just looked at those three potatoes for a long time.

That night, Old Zhang invited everyone in the village to his house to eat potatoes.

Potato stew with meat, shredded potatoes, mashed potatoes, potato pancakes, potato soup, roasted potatoes... a whole table full of nothing but potatoes.

The villagers praised as they ate: “Old Zhang, how did you grow these potatoes? They're so delicious!”

Old Zhang chuckled: “Seeds from Mars, how could they not be delicious?”

“Mars? You're bragging!”

Old Zhang didn't explain, just continued to laugh.

After the meal, he took out his flute and played a tune for the people in the courtyard.

It was that same old folk song. But this time, everyone sang along.

Those voices floated out of the courtyard, past the village, and toward the night sky.

Floating toward the direction of Mars.

On the Road Home: The First Tremor

Fullness's ship sailed through the space-time folding channel.

Fifth day. Everything normal. The ball of light of the Storm Civilization fluctuated slightly beside her, as if dozing.

Fullness was also tired. She closed her eyes, preparing to sleep for a while.

Then, she felt it.

Not hearing, not seeing, but “feeling”—something from very, very far away, lightly “touched” the wall of the channel.

Just once. Very light. So light it was almost imperceptible.

But the light ball of the Storm Civilization suddenly fluctuated violently.

It was awake. And it was in “fear.”

Fullness's sleepiness vanished. She opened her eyes and stared intently at the data on the light screen.

Everything normal. Error less than one ten-thousandth. Channel stable.

But she knew that touch just now was real.

Because the Storm Civilization was still fluctuating violently.

It “knew” what that was.

Fullness took a deep breath and asked it with her consciousness:

“What was that?”

The Storm Civilization was silent for a long time.

Then, an extremely faint, almost indecipherable image came through:

“Time... Hunter...”

Fullness's heart suddenly constricted.

time hunter?

What was that?

She wanted to continue asking, but the Storm Civilization no longer responded. It just shrank into a ball, fluctuating violently, like a terrified little animal.

Fullness clenched her fists and stared at the light screen.

Three days left on the journey ahead.

Three days. Hopefully, it's enough.

Cradle: Emergency Meeting

3:00 AM, Command Center, emergency meeting.

Lin Shen, Zhou Zhe, Chen Mo, Su Kun, and Ashes, five people sat together.

β-2's projection hovered in the center, replaying the last piece of data sent back by Fullness.

“time hunter,” Ashes repeated the term, a look of genuine confusion appearing for the first time in his pitch-black eyes. “There are no records of this name in the ancient files of the Executive Court.”

“But that Storm Civilization knows,” Zhou Zhe said. “And it is in fear.”

“Something that can make a civilization that has lived for countless billions of years feel fear...” Chen Mo didn't finish.

Su Kun closed her eyes, “listening” to something.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes, her face pale.

“Those time ripples,” she said, “are not coming from the Hive's past. They are... coming from the Hive's ‘future’.”

Everyone was stunned.

“Future?”

Su Kun nodded: “The shape of those rings, I initially thought the center was the earliest time. But I was wrong. The innermost layer is the latest time. Those ripples are spreading from a certain moment in the future toward the past.”

Lin Shen's hand clenched slightly under the table.

“The future... how far?”

Su Kun closed her eyes and opened them again.

“I don't know. But the center of those ripples points to a moment in time—about fifty years from now.”

Fifty years later.

The countdown for the Reapers' pre-trial was also fifty years.

But the Reapers have gone. They have ‘seen,’ ‘waited,’ ‘recorded,’ ‘shown,’ and ‘returned.’

Then fifty years later, what else is there?

No one knew.

But they knew Fullness was still on her way. That “time hunter” was still in the shadows.

Lin Shen stood up.

“Initiate maximum alert. Real-time monitoring of Fullness's homeward path throughout. Zhou Zhe, you and Su Kun work together to fully analyze those time ripples. Chen Mo, prepare a backup rescue plan. Ashes, contact the web weaver protocol to see if there is any information about the ‘time hunter’.”

He paused and looked out the window.

“No matter what it is, we will face it. Because we are human. We ‘do not forget’.”

Outside the window, deep in the starry sky, those time ripples were still fluctuating gently.

And Fullness's ship continued forward in the darkness.