History proves that humans never learn from history.

Past mistakes exist solely so that later generations can repeat them.

Past mistakes exist solely for future generations to repeat them.

Bai Yang thought he’d explained everything enough to Wang Ning, Zhao Bowen, and his father. For their time capsules, they just needed to follow his method step by step—even an idiot could do it, right?

But most of the time, it’s not idiots who mess things up—it’s smart people. These three brilliant minds just had to believe their superior intellects could do better.

Bai Yang had a headache. One of humanity’s fundamental flaws was believing everyone else was stupid when they could surely do better.

Wang Ning’s hairless head turned as he sat there thinking, immediately pointing out the flaws in Bai Yang’s plan—as expected of a leader.

Why are things so complicated? Wasn’t it just sending a stainless steel capsule to someone twenty years in the future?

Was it that difficult?

Wang Ning couldn’t believe it.

He immediately ordered ten large time capsules, reasoning that when humanity’s survival was at stake, the cost didn’t matter.

If they could verify that BG4MSR lived twenty years in the future, they’d naturally establish an emergency response team. The state would allocate funds—huge funds, super funds, spare-no-expense funds. At that point, they could expense all these costs as operational expenses later. When spending public money, Wang Ning was never stingy. They could expense all these costs as operational expenses later. Wang Ning was never stingy with public money.

“BG4MSR, BG4MSR, can you hear me? I have good news—my dad, Uncle Wang, and Uncle Zhao are preparing time capsules. They’re planning to send you ten large ones in the first batch, filled with medical supplies and outdoor equipment, including bandages, masks, syringes, safety ropes, rain gear, military shovels, and oh yeah, a McDonald’s hamburger, OVER.”

The other side paused.

“A McDonald’s hamburger?”

“Oh, that’s the time indicator. If even a McDonald’s hamburger has spoiled, it means a long time has passed—at least several hundred years, OVER.”

“Huh?” The girl stared blankly.

“They want to know if McDonald’s hamburgers really can last twenty years without spoiling, OVER.”

“BG4MXH, you’re sending ten-time capsules all at once?”

“Yes, since they still don’t believe you live in 2040, they want to verify it further. The time capsules are an experiment—sending supplies is just a bonus, like I did before, OVER.”

“BG4MXH, what happens if the verification succeeds?”

“If it succeeds, my dad and Uncle Zhao will need quick-acting heart medicine first, then they’ll have to perform CPR on Uncle Wang, and finally report it to their superiors. This is too big for us to handle—it needs to be handed over to more professional people,” Bai Yang said. “But I doubt it’ll work. You know these three geniuses’ plan? They’re preparing ten large time capsules for the first batch and planning to bury them in the landscaping area of Meihua Villa. What a scene—in broad daylight, major excavation, bold as brass, making a huge production. I told them it would fail, but they won’t believe me, OVER.”

Wang Ning, Zhao Bowen, and Bai Zhen were quite capable—Bai Yang didn’t know how they convinced the property management. While he had buried his time capsule secretly, terrified of being caught by security, they’d brought in an excavator.

As expected of Wang Ning.

As expected of Zhao Bowen.

As expected of his father.

As expected of the once-feared Iron Triangle of Southern Jiangsu Idlers.

“BG4MXH, didn’t you say time capsule delivery needed to be covert and unknown to others?” Ban Xia asked. “Can they succeed doing it that way?”

“That’s what I think, but they disagree, OVER.”

Wang Ning thought Bai Yang’s plan was too complex. Who hadn’t played with time capsules? Years ago, his unit had done a New Year’s activity where everyone wrote letters to their future selves, to be sealed in capsules for ten years. Wang Ning himself had organized and buried them, and nothing had gone wrong.

The apocalypse?

Just bury them somewhere unaffected.

Worried about them being dug up?

Just bury ten at once—they might find one or two, but surely not all of them?

Regarding Bai Yang’s two key points about time-mail, Wang Ning said it showed his inexperience—poverty limited his imagination. With little money, you could only afford one or two capsules, so of course they’d get lost. But if you buried ten, twenty, a hundred, two hundred at once, how could you worry about losing them?

Wang Ning promised confidently it would work, guaranteed success—just wait and see.

“Hmm…” Ban Xia tilted her head, thinking Wang Ning’s logic made some sense.

“We’ll see,” Bai Yang said. “I think they’ll probably fail, OVER.”

“BG4MXH, what if they fail?” the girl asked.

“Then they’ll try again,” Bai Yang said resignedly. “People just never learn. Even after helping them avoid landmines, they insist on stepping on them themselves before they’ll believe they’re real. Middle-aged men in their forties are just that stubborn—people get more stubborn with age. I finally understand why those elderly folks caught in pyramid schemes never turn back. It has nothing to do with intelligence or education—it’s pure overconfidence. Everyone thinks they’re street-smart, but it’s exactly those street-smart ones who get conned, OVER.”

“BG4MXH, what’s a pyramid scheme?”

“A scam,” Bai Yang explained. “Just think of it as a scam targeting old men playing chess in the park, OVER.”

“Will they send another ten capsules the second time?” Ban Xia asked.

“Well, it’s not my money they’re spending—they can send as many as they want,” Bai Yang said. “BG4MSR, just tell me what you need, and I’ll have them send it to you, OVER.”

“Until they succeed?”

“Until they succeed,” Bai Yang nodded. “After hitting the wall twice, they should learn their lesson. Then they’ll have to do it my way. Once you successfully receive the time capsules, they’ll have to believe this reality, and then we need to plan our escape, OVER.”

Ban Xia froze.

“BG4MXH, what do you mean by planning an escape?”

“Exactly what it sounds like—prepare to run for our lives early,” Bai Yang said. “Sister, you said human civilization in your era has been destroyed for over a decade, right? But from 2040 to now is only twenty-one years total. This means from our perspective, the world will end in a few years, and the Black Moon will arrive. Should we wait around to die instead of escaping early? OVER.”

The girl thought carefully.

“Let me think… I was about three or four when the disaster happened, I’m 19 now, so it must have been around 2024 when the Black Moon arrived, OVER.”

Bai Yang counted—it was 2019 now, only five years at most until 2024.

In five years, the world would be destroyed.

He was now the only person in the world who knew human civilization would face its end in five years. Too bad he was just a powerless high school senior.

If he opened his window now and shouted, “Everyone run! The world will end in five years—!”

He’d only get a “Why are you disturbing people in the middle of the night?” from the neighbors downstairs.

“BG4MSR, I figure when the apocalypse comes, we can’t stay in crowded places, especially big cities. Too obvious a target, likely to draw fire, and with so many people, survival resources will be scarce. When chaos breaks out, who knows what will happen? Who knows what chaos will break out? So I’m planning to hide in a valley in the Loess Plateau, or somewhere like the Taklamakan Desert or Tibetan Plateau—wherever’s most secluded,” Bai Yang mused. “Dig a hole in the mountains for a shelter, prepare enough survival supplies—even the gods won’t find us, right? What do you think, BG4MSR? OVER.”

The girl thought for a moment.

Where was the Loess Plateau?

West?

Where were the Taklamakan Desert and Tibetan Plateau?

Seemed like they were all out west.

Could hiding in the Loess Plateau or Taklamakan Desert help them survive?

Ban Xia didn’t know—she couldn’t give Bai Yang a definite answer. She was too young when the Black Moon arrived, her memories too vague, so she didn’t understand the enemy. If only Teacher were still here—Teacher had survived the disaster firsthand, the only one who’d survived all the chaos. She would surely know if it would work.

“I don’t know, BG4MXH, I don’t know if that would work,” the girl said. “But I must tell you something crucial, you must remember… never go out when the twin moons rise at night, understand? OVER.”

Bai Yang paused.

“Don’t go out when the twin moons rise at night? OVER.”

“Yes, BG4MXH, never go out at night,” the girl warned. “Teacher taught me this, and now I’m teaching you.”

Teacher’s Rule Four of Apocalypse Survival: Never go out when the twin moons rise!

This was an iron rule the Teacher had repeatedly stressed must be followed. Ban Xia had remembered it firmly all these years, though she wasn’t quite sure what dangers lurked after the twin moons rose. The last time she went out hoping to meet BG4MXH, waiting at the intersection of Clover Garden Street until late at night when the twin moons rose, nothing had happened.

Maybe it was because of predatory beasts active at night? Whatever the reason, the Teacher’s warning surely had profound meaning. Ban Xia had always treated Teacher’s words as gospel—she’d survived this long thanks to Teacher’s powerful survival wisdom. She repeated these words exactly to Bai Yang, unsure if they would help, but hoping Teacher could help this young man survive too.

Maybe he really could survive hiding in the Loess Plateau or Taklamakan Desert?

“Never go out when the twin moons rise.”

Bai Yang turned this phrase over in his mind several times, nodding.

This world was absurd.

Would it be destroyed in five years? Yet here he sat in his room, desk lamp on, air conditioning running, parents sleeping in the next room, city lights blazing and traffic flowing outside his window. A city of ten million people, and looking further, a world of 6.5 billion people. Could such a vast, magnificent world follow the path to destruction predicted by mere radio waves?

Humans derive security from the collective—safety in numbers. Though Bai Yang rationally believed BG4MSR, he still instinctively felt well-protected. His parents, relatives, classmates, friends—so many people living in this city. Beyond the city were armies, nations, and all of humanity. Such complex and massive social relationships provided anyone with psychological shelter from danger.

As Chinese people say, when the sky falls, the tall people will hold it up. Even little people have a sense of security.

If he turned off the radio now, forgot about all this, went to school normally tomorrow, and returned to the normal world—would this absurd apocalyptic future still come?

Bai Yang propped up his head, thinking silently.

“BG4MXH? BG4MXH?”

The girl’s call woke him from his contemplation.

“BG4MSR, this is BG4MXH, OVER.”

“BG4MXH, can you get rat poison where you are? Could you please send me a little?”

“Rat poison? BG4MSR, are you using it to kill rats? OVER.”

“Yes, but not just for rats,” the girl replied. “I suspect something has gotten into the complex—something dangerous. I need the rat poison to deal with it.”