As soon as Ding Xi walked out of the alley, his phone rang.
The Umbrella Head Song, Ding Changsheng – who knows what he was rushing him about this time.
Ding Xi covered the phone’s speaker with his palm to muffle the volume. After a few seconds, he realized this gesture was as futile as covering one’s ears while stealing a bell.
He answered the phone.
Ding Changsheng’s tone was somewhat urgent: “Ding Xi… you haven’t done anything to Yi Sa and the others, have you?”
What did he mean?
Ding Xi’s heart skipped a beat, but he deliberately delayed his response by a second or two: “Nobody asked me to do anything to them.”
Only then did Ding Changsheng realize his loss of composure. He coughed twice to cover it up: “Yes, I was just worried you might act rashly and make a mistake. You… come over quickly, Ding Panling wants to see you about something.”
It seemed things had changed; otherwise, Ding Changsheng’s attitude wouldn’t have shifted so dramatically.
Ding Xi hurried to Ding Changsheng’s residence.
These days, Ding Changsheng’s home had become a temporary gathering place, with Ding Panling and some members of the Ding family staying there.
With more people, rooms became scarce. Though the living room was large, two or three beds made it cramped immediately, changing the entire atmosphere of the house – what was once cold and spacious now felt like a crowded hostel.
There weren’t even enough slippers to go around. After a moment’s hesitation, Ding Xi walked in wearing his shoes.
Ding Panling and Ding Changsheng were in the study, though their roles had reversed – Ding Panling sat in what was normally Ding Changsheng’s seat, carefully examining something on the computer while moving the mouse, while the host, Ding Changsheng, stood beside him, bent at the waist to look at the screen.
Seeing Ding Xi enter, Ding Panling beckoned him over while adjusting the laptop screen outward: “Come take a look.”
The screen showed a photograph of the ground. Though the grass was green, it was so sparse it seemed mere decoration on the soil.
Ding Xi understood: “Three Rivers Source?”
Ding Panling made an affirmative sound: “Look at the previous photo for comparison.”
The photo jumped back to show another patch of ground.
Nothing special seemed apparent – just earth.
Ding Panling smiled and pushed over the wireless mouse.
Ding Xi knew this meant he should figure it out himself. He felt nervous, afraid he wouldn’t discover the mystery and would look foolish.
He gripped the mouse, repeatedly comparing the two photos, zooming in several times to examine details. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he blurted out: “Ground vortex! In the first photo, there’s a ground vortex. Look carefully and you can see the grass is affected, arranged in a spiral pattern.”
Ding Panling smiled: “Good eye. Keep looking through them.”
There’s more? Ding Xi quickly flipped to the next page. The next photo was also of the ground, but its color and feel were older, probably a scanned film photograph: it showed bare earth without a blade of grass.
Ding Xi straightened the screen and stepped back, then back again: this photo also had a similar elliptical spiral, and though there was no grass, the direction of the soil particles provided the clue.
Ding Xi looked up at Ding Panling.
Ding Panling knew he had figured it out and first explained the old photograph: “In ’96, the Three Families went to open the Drifting Cave, but something went wrong. When Changsheng and the others arrived at the scene, they couldn’t find the cave no matter how hard they looked. Fortunately, they were thorough and stayed in the area for several days, taking many ground photos. This was later selected as particularly noteworthy by everyone.”
“The cave must have existed, and, normally, it drifted away – it’s called ‘Drifting’ after all. But the ground isn’t like the sky – birds flying through the sky leave no trace, but when a hole appears in the ground and then fills in, no matter how perfectly it’s filled, it must leave some trace, right?”
Ding Xi suddenly understood: “You mean these shallow spiral patterns are the traces left after the Drifting Cave disappears?”
Ding Panling nodded.
Ding Xi’s heart began to race: Indeed, everything leaves traces; nothing returns to its original state perfectly.
Ding Changsheng cleared his throat, quite pleased with himself: “These traces are very subtle, almost nonexistent – think about it, the Three Rivers Source is so vast, with barely any permanent residents. Who would examine the ground beneath their feet with a magnifying glass looking for spirals? Even if they found one, they’d dismiss it without understanding the cause. Besides, the distance between one ground spiral and another could be enormous. If we hadn’t taken photos back then, it would have been truly difficult to discover.”
Ding Panling sighed: “Indeed.”
He looked at Ding Xi again: “You probably know that over the years, we’ve always had people stationed at Three Rivers Source, especially after ’96 when we increased manpower significantly. Their task was to track the Drifting Cave, posing as geologists externally, but actually doing just this – looking at the ground, searching for traces all day. It hasn’t been easy; they’ve all developed neck and back problems.”
He gave a bitter laugh at this point.
Ding Xi didn’t interrupt, patiently waiting for what came next.
“Fortunately, these years of effort haven’t been wasted. I had them mark all the ground spiral locations on the Three Rivers Source map and connect them into lines…”
Ding Xi blurted out: “You’re trying to find its activity pattern?”
Ding Panling was very pleased with his response: “Three Rivers Source is indeed vast, but compared to a province or a country, it’s quite small. For over a thousand years, the Drifting Cave has only existed within Three Rivers Source, only active within this range.”
“For most people, if you record their daily activities and then overlay their movement patterns for a year on a computer, you’ll find that except for a few business trips or vacations, their activity space is basically limited to a certain area of their city, and their most frequent routes are simply between home and work or school, very regular.”
“Although the Drifting Cave isn’t human, I still believe it can’t move chaotically. It must have its pattern, and we’ve been tracking this pattern for a long time. Think about it – after Sa Sa told that story, I said we should find the Drifting Cave. Without certain confidence, how could I say it so casually? Without all these years of accumulation, where would we even start looking?”
Ding Xi understood: By the sound of it, finding the Drifting Cave should be imminent.
Only then did Ding Panling reveal his full intention: “I heard Sa Sa and Zong Hang have arrived too. These two are very special cases; entering the Drifting Cave will likely depend on them. So I just told Changsheng that we’ll need you to keep a close eye on them…”
At this point, seeming to realize his choice of words was too harsh, he smiled self-deprecatingly: “Saying ‘keep a close eye’ is too severe. Just keep track of their whereabouts so we don’t lose them at crucial moments. This could have been handled with a phone call, but Changsheng panicked and insisted on calling you over.”
He stood up, supporting himself on the desk with both hands: “Alright, you two can talk. I’ve been sitting here for half the day, my back is stiff. I’m going down for a jog.”
Ding Changsheng and Ding Xi had nothing much to discuss. On the contrary, because of this turn of events, Ding Changsheng had lost face and dismissed him after barely two sentences.
Ding Xi left and hurriedly took the elevator to the ground floor, looking around but seeing no one.
Somewhat disappointed, he searched the outdoor exercise equipment area of the complex but still found nothing.
Just as he was feeling dejected, Ding Panling’s voice came from behind: “Looking for me?”
Ding Xi’s back stiffened, and he quickly turned around to see Ding Panling leisurely emerging from behind a cluster of trees.
The complex’s landscaping was too good; the dense trees and foliage created too many blind spots.
Ding Xi’s throat went dry. He thought about making small talk but felt there was no need to beat around the bush with him: “Uncle Ling, I want to learn from you.”
Ding Panling smiled: “You’re not a water ghost, what could you learn from me? Besides, the Executive Council is so busy, that it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to transfer you. Why this sudden interest in learning from me?”
Ding Xi said: “I want to find a way out for myself. I’m afraid if I keep following my godfather, the path will only get narrower.”
Ding Panling hadn’t expected such directness from him and paused before saying: “How the Executive Council conducts business, I’ve never managed it, nor could I… though I’ve heard some things. Your godfather’s methods are sometimes a bit too rigid.”
Ding Xi steeled himself: “Uncle Ling, since I was in my teens, I’ve helped my godfather deal with people who discovered the kiln factory’s secrets. Because that opened the door, I handled everything – I’ve done so many things, I don’t even want to talk about it… I’m tired of it. I don’t want to go down this path forever. You need people, I can get things done. I want to work for you in the future, and I’ll stay out of my godfather’s business.”
Ding Panling looked at him for a while: “You took an oath back then, to become a celibate to join the Three Families. Now that you know so many of the Three Families’ secrets, you can’t leave. If you stay, you don’t want to fall out with your godfather, but you don’t want to continue doing dirty work. So you’re using me as a shield – if I step in, Ding Changsheng will have nothing to say, whether he likes it or not, right?”
“Although we’re all surnamed Ding, you were raised by Ding Changsheng. In everyone’s eyes, you coming to me is essentially ‘changing allegiance’…”
Ding Xi’s heart sank, feeling there was probably no hope.
“However, these are extraordinary times, and I do need people. Using anyone isn’t excessive. But I must warn you – you say following me is finding a way out for yourself, but my path may not lead to survival – think it through carefully before deciding. If you truly decide, I can open this door.”
He had thought it through.
A good bird chooses its tree to nest in.
Ding Panling must be a more flourishing tree than Ding Changsheng.
Since they had to stay at a hotel anyway, Zong Hang simply booked at the same one as Jing Xiu, on the same floor.
This way, if anything happened, they could help each other, and he could try to get more time to save Jing Xiu again.
After settling in, Zong Hang pulled out that combat manual again. The events of the past few days made him feel there would be more turbulence ahead: regardless of what situation arose, making himself stronger was never wrong.
He practiced a few grappling moves, then got down to do push-ups.
Yi Sa had been sitting cross-legged on the bed the whole time, holding a pen and writing and drawing on paper in front of her, occasionally muttering: “One-sided words? When was I one-sided?”
For the Nth time, Zong Hang pushed himself up: “He did it on purpose, saying unclear things just to keep you from sleeping well.”
Brain not helping but still interfering, Yi Sa irritably pushed his back, and Zong Hang’s arms were already trembling – with an “ow,” his belly hit the ground, and he simply stayed lying there.
Yi Sa held back her laughter and checked her phone again for the meaning of “one-sided words” –
Words spoken by one party in a dispute.
Who had she disputed with? Her deductions were all logical, and objective, with sound reasoning and evidence.
One-sided words, words spoken by one party…
In a flash of inspiration, she suddenly realized something and blurted out: “I understand!”
Zong Hang quickly propped himself up, resting his chin on the edge of the bed: “Huh?”
“Everything we saw and that flashed through our minds was provided by ‘them.’ They gave us the material, and I organized it into a story, but this story isn’t told by me – it’s told through my mouth by them.”
This was a bit convoluted; while Zong Hang was still laboriously processing it sentence by sentence, Yi Sa had already sprinted down a new line of thought.
“This way, we’ll think they’re friendly, we’ll let our guard down, we might even welcome them…”
“Why do they want us to think they’re friendly? This precisely shows they’re not friendly. They pretend to be humans from the previous cycle, but they’re not – so who are they? Artificial Intelligence?”
Can AI be revived? Isn’t it supposed to just need electricity and internet to wreak havoc?
After she had monologued N times, the intellectually slower Zong Hang finally huffed and puffed his way to catch up with the progress.
He offered his opinion: “Not necessarily, maybe it’s neither.”
What did he mean? For the first time, Yi Sa felt her intelligence wasn’t sufficient.
Is it that hard to understand? Zong Hang got excited; he particularly cherished these opportunities, the rare chances to demonstrate his intelligence to Yi Sa.
“They lied, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then there are two possibilities. First, partial lie, concealing their true identity – they’re not humans from the previous cycle but AI.”
“Second, complete lie, meaning the entire story is false, which means they’re neither humans from the previous cycle nor AI.”
Zong Hang finished with satisfaction, then suddenly realized he had confused himself first.
Holy crap, neither humans from the previous cycle nor AI.
Then what are they?