bioinnovel Chapter 430 Dialogue!
Chapter 430 Dialogue!
Zhang Yan did not respond to the signal.
He withdrew from the consciousness connection and returned to his physical body.
The humming of runes in the spherical space still lingered in my ears, while the churning on the surface of the door had completely subsided.
The pressure values of the Six Paths Gate all dropped to zero, as if the entire world had suddenly been muted.
"Nie Qingcheng".
"Yes." Her voice was almost instantaneous, always online.
It sent a single word: 'Interesting'.
There was a four-second silence on the other end of the line. Not from surprise, but from thought.
"It spoke on its own initiative," Nie Qingcheng said in a flat tone. "This means your new anchor point plan has exceeded its expectations. It needs to reassess you."
"That's my opinion too."
"Don't respond," Nie Qingcheng said. "Let it wait."
Zhang Yan nodded.
Although he cannot see.
"Come back," Nie Qingcheng said again.
Zhang Yan withdrew his hand from the door, and the energy output of the Heavenly Craftsman's Heart ceased.
He summoned back the White Tiger and Xing Tian, and rode the Black Scorpion up the passage, passing through 1,200 meters of rock layers to return to the surface.
The sunlight was blinding, and he squinted. The first breath of air he took in smelled of earth and grass.
Qin Xiao's men were waiting at the cave entrance.
Zhang Yan didn't say much, got into the car, and headed straight for the airport.
It was already late at night when I got back to Jinghai.
Nie Qingcheng was waiting for him in the living room, where a bowl of steaming noodles sat on the coffee table.
Zhang Yan sat down and took a bite.
"When did you cook this?"
"When your plane lands."
Zhang Yan didn't ask any more questions. He finished his noodles, pushed the bowl aside, and showed her the system panel.
All six gate pressure levels have been reduced to zero. The sub-core status is stable. The gate network defense limit is 96.4%.
Nie Qingcheng scanned the data, her gaze lingering on the last line—the directional signal record from the direction of Proxima Centauri.
"Interesting," she uttered the word.
"Um."
"It has never spoken in 30,000 years."
"One hundred thousand years," Zhang Yan corrected. "There are no traces of communication in the ice record either."
Nie Qingcheng leaned back on the sofa, her fingers unconsciously twirling the ring on her left ring finger.
"Then let's wait," she said, "and see what else it wants to say."
Twelve hours later, the second signal arrived.
What Zhang Yan saw in the underground laboratory.
The quantum entanglement channel of the sub-core is automatically received, translated by the system, and displayed on the panel.
It's longer than the first one.
"Your ex chose silence. He died in silence."
Zhang Yan stared at the line of text for five seconds.
The predecessor. Does it refer to the orphan from 30,000 years ago, the key holder in 1943, or someone even earlier?
It uses "ex" instead of "previous." The wording is precise, as if it's talking to an opponent of equal caliber.
He did not respond.
When Nie Qingcheng came down and saw the signal, her expression didn't change.
"It's testing your emotional threshold," she said. "Using death as a trigger. It's cliché."
"But it contains a lot of information," Zhang Yan said. "It knows there were maintainers before. It knows their fate."
"It has been watching for tens of thousands of years." Nie Qingcheng's tone was indifferent. "If you were to watch for tens of thousands of years, you would know everything too."
Day three.
The third signal.
"Three hundred years. Your anchor point can only last three hundred years. And then what?"
Zhang Yan was cooking breakfast for Nie Qingcheng when he saw this message.
A notification popped up in the corner of his field of vision. He glanced at it but didn't stop chopping scallions.
Three hundred years. It knows its expiration date.
The monitoring module has been physically disconnected by the locksmith, so this information cannot be obtained from that channel.
It calculated it itself.
Zhang Yan sprinkled chopped green onions into the pot, turned off the heat, and served the noodles.
Nie Qingcheng came downstairs and knew from his expression that there was new information.
She didn't ask any questions, and sat down to eat noodles first.
After she finished eating, Zhang Yan pushed the cutting board towards her.
Nie Qingcheng finished reading the time records of the three signals.
Article 1, Hour 0.
Article 2, 12 hours.
Article 3, 72nd hour.
"The intervals are getting longer," she said.
"Um."
"It's not in a hurry."
Zhang Yan leaned back in his chair. "It can calculate the validity period of the replacement anchor point, which shows that it understands the technical principles of the Heavenly Craftsmanship. It's not brute force, it's wisdom."
Nie Qingcheng put down her chopsticks. "You want to respond?"
It's not a question.
"I want to," Zhang Yan said, "but not with words."
He shared his thoughts.
A set of data is sent from the subcore towards Proxima Centauri: the current efficiency value of the Six Gates, plus a mathematical formula. The efficiency improvement rate multiplied by time equals 100%.
The meaning is simple—I will repair the door within three hundred years. You won't be able to get in.
Nie Qingcheng thought for ten seconds.
"Okay," she said, "but the wording needs to be changed. Don't say 'efficiency increases speed'."
Why?
"You send the rate, and it will know the upper limit of your repair capacity." Nie Qingcheng tapped her finger lightly on the table. "Just send the current efficiency and the target value. Let it guess the rate itself."
Zhang Yan glanced at her.
"it is good."
At 3 PM, Zhang Yan sent a command to the sub-core through the quantum entanglement channel of the Heavenly Craftsmanship Heart.
The subcore encodes the data into a topological resonance signal, which is then transmitted directionally toward Proxima Centauri along the gate network channel.
Six numbers. An equal sign. A 100%.
Then wait.
The reply arrived in seven minutes.
A distance of 4.2 light-years would take light four years and two months to travel one way. Seven minutes.
Communication uses a network channel, not electromagnetic waves.
Zhang Yan noted down this data: a seven-minute transmission time means that the information transmission speed of the gate network channel is approximately 320,000 times the speed of light.
The reply was longer than before.
"Repairing it is only temporary. The door will age. You will die. The next maintainer may not be as smart as you."
Zhang Yan read it twice.
Every single sentence is true.
Doors age, and the natural decay period of the door is indeed mentioned in the higher-level protocol.
You will die; he is a human being.
The next maintainer may not be as smart as you. The inheritance mechanism of the Heart of Heaven relies on the resonance path, but resonance is not the same as ability.
It poses no threat, no intimidation. It is a statement.
Like a patient chess player pointing at the chessboard and telling you: You made a good move, but you will eventually lose.
Zhang Yan typed a line of text.
So you're waiting.
send.
This time the response was even faster. Three minutes.
Two words.
"Always."
Zhang Yan turned off the panel.
Nie Qingcheng sat opposite him. She watched the whole thing.
The living room remained quiet for a long time.
"It's not in a hurry," Nie Qingcheng said softly. "It has unlimited time. We don't."
Zhang Yan looked at her.
"The essence of this game is not a contest of power," Nie Qingcheng said, "but a contest of lifespans."
Zhang Yan remained silent.
Because she is right.
In terms of strength, the 96.4% gate network defense limit is sufficient to withstand a full-force impact from outside the gate. Technically, the Heavenly Craftsman's Heart's maintenance capabilities can continuously repair damage to the gate structure.
But people die.
He will grow old, he will get sick, and there will come a day when he can no longer hold on. The Heart of Heaven needs a next kindred spirit. This next kindred spirit needs to be found, needs to grow, and needs to learn all of these things. The transition period is the vulnerable period.
That thing outside the door is waiting for this.
It waited for 100,000 years. It wouldn't mind waiting another 100, 200, or 300 years.
"Always."
Zhang Yan looked down at his hands. The birthmark on the inside of his wrist was glowing faintly, exactly the same as the mark of the orphan from 30,000 years ago.
That orphan faced the same problem.
He chose silence. He died in silence.
Zhang Yan raised his head.
"I will not remain silent," he said.
Nie Qingcheng looked into his eyes.
"I know," she said, "so we need a solution that doesn't depend on lifespan."
She opened her notebook, turned to a blank page, and wrote a line.
Zhang Yan leaned closer to take a look.
Nie Qingcheng wrote: "How to make the door no longer need people."