Dark Night, Strong Winds

"Although we have built Gaia, our technology cannot support the survival of the existing 3.6 billion humans in space for eight thousand years. That does not even account for population growth. Forget eight thousand years—even eight hundred may be impossible."

"Therefore, we must freeze the vast majority of people inside stasis pods, not ordinary sleep pods. Aside from the mothership's maintenance personnel, most people will have to remain in stasis pods for eight thousand years."

"But we all know that even stasis pod freezing only halts the body's metabolism. The brain's neurons still function slowly. That is why every stasis pod manual and safety notice states that no one may be frozen for fifty years at a time. This is the most horrifying torture in the world, without equal!"

"When an individual remains in a stasis pod for over fifty years, the brain begins to perceive the existence of dreams, and consciousness starts to awaken. At that point, the mind becomes trapped in Void, without sensation, light, or anything at all. This is an extremely terrifying torment. More than twenty-four hours may cause hallucinations; more than seventy-two hours will cause the mind to collapse. But with Shared Dream, when consciousness awakens, one can enter the Shared Dream. When consciousness grows tired, one can return to one's own sleeping dream. With that, forget eight thousand years—so long as the system, energy supply, and Gaia continue operating, they can remain safe for eighty thousand years!"

"The principle of dreams is that even while the human brain is resting, some parts continue functioning. The dreaming brain tissue of 3.6 billion people represents an unimaginably vast amount of computational power, a magnitude thousands or even tens of thousands of times greater than the Main Brain, Gaia's primary supercomputer. Therefore, we need to build a computational connection system dedicated to stasis pods, making use of that unused processing power to construct Shared Dream."

"The only thing needed is... maintenance personnel. Personnel willing to sacrifice themselves, spending at least half their lives in narrow metal corridors, staring out at the pitch-black universe beyond the windows!"

"And this actually violates the human rights constitution. No one has the right to deprive citizens of their lives or property, not even criminals... So either we make them willing, or we make them have no choice. Everyone, what I mean is that those Future Ones who were frozen in the past, or whose bodies were stripped away until only their brains remained—I think it is time for the government to cure them."

Wu Pifu opened his eyes.

It was around six in the morning. Ever since he had begun cultivating the Tiger Demon Art a year ago, he woke punctually at this hour every day.

Wu Pifu sat up and looked around. The mute little nun had not returned. Perhaps this was not where she lived?

Wu Pifu did not linger. He dismissed the memory from his dream, from before he had signed the maintenance personnel contract, and walked outside. He did not enter the square, instead stopping beneath the eaves. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth wide, and began swallowing.

It was as though he were swallowing a solid object the size of a fist. It passed laboriously from his mouth to his throat, which even bulged, before he swallowed the "pearl" into his abdomen, inching it closer to his dantian.

At that moment, his qi and blood surged. His eyes were closed and his mind was filled with stray thoughts, yet his body naturally controlled the circulation of qi and blood—from the dantian through his body, from his body to his limbs, around his entire body and back to the dantian. This was one cycle of regulation in the Tiger Demon Art.

After regulating his breath for three consecutive cycles, Wu Pifu finally opened his eyes. By then, daylight had fully broken. It was around seven-thirty. He saw the mute little nun emerge from a distant hall that looked relatively intact, then head to a building at the other end of the square. Soon afterward, she came briskly toward the house where Wu Pifu was, holding a large bowl.

When she saw Wu Pifu standing under the eaves by the doorway, the mute little nun froze for at least three or four seconds. Only then did she stiffly approach him. She lowered her head deeply and tremblingly offered him the coarse pottery bowl in her hands.

Wu Pifu showed no surprise. He accepted the bowl and took a large gulp, about a third of the bowl, then said gently to the mute little nun, "This is your daily food, isn't it? You did not eat or drink anything yesterday. Drink the rest."

The mute little nun raised her head slightly, then gently shook it.

Wu Pifu directly shoved the coarse pottery bowl into her hands. "Don't worry. I'll leave tomorrow."

The mute little nun trembled. She actually accepted the bowl and began taking small sips.

Only after the mute little nun finished drinking did Wu Pifu begin slowly throwing punches with one hand while holding a stance. At the same time, he said, "Tomorrow, I'll find a way to get some money. Are you willing to leave this nunnery with me?"

The mute little nun looked up in surprise. When she saw the earnest look in Wu Pifu's eyes, she immediately lowered her head again. After a long while, she first shook her head, then nodded. Large tears rolled from her eyes.

Wu Pifu came from the twenty-first century, and he had also lived until 2877. He had his own judgment about many things.

First, the mute little nun had not been forced into prostitution. Though she wore ragged clothes, lived in a damp and dilapidated place, and had only thin porridge to eat.

But this was ancient times. This was a nunnery.

Unless it was a grand Buddhist temple, a famous religious sanctuary, a religious place favored by nobles and officials, or an era when religion was rampant, monks, Taoist priests, and nuns at the bottom of society generally lived in extreme poverty.

She had a place to live, clothing to cover and warm herself, and enough food to stay alive. In ancient times, that already put her ahead of countless others.

Who would treat someone like that when forcing her into prostitution?

A Closed-Door Nunnery.

It was where poor ancient women who could no longer survive became nuns, only to find that even after becoming nuns, they still could not survive. So they had no choice but to become secret prostitutes. That was what a Closed-Door Nunnery was in ancient times.

Wu Pifu could tell that the little nun looked unwell and was small and thin. She was probably only fifteen or sixteen.

Either she was a girl who had fled disaster and could no longer survive, or an abandoned infant whom this nunnery had kindly taken in.

"You do not need to answer now."

Wu Pifu steadied his mind and practiced, saying at the same time, "I have no money right now either, but I have ways to earn it. We'll talk after I make some money. Don't worry. A life-saving kindness outweighs the heavens. So long as I have food to eat, I will never let you go hungry. Tomorrow, I'll first find a way to get some money."

The mute little nun could not speak. Tears simply pattered down her face. Then she sat on the threshold and watched Wu Pifu practice. Neither spoke. Gradually, the sun climbed to its peak, and suddenly, chirping calls sounded out.

Wu Pifu continued practicing without moving, while the mute little nun suddenly rose from the threshold and walked beyond the eaves, raising one hand toward the sky. A palm-sized emerald-green bird descended and landed directly in her palm, pecking at it.

There were several dried beans of some unknown kind there. The little bird pecked them all clean, then did not fly away. Instead, it flew onto the mute little nun's shoulder and chirped at her.

For the first time, the mute little nun smiled, softly smiling at the little bird.

Nothing else happened that day. Wu Pifu focused entirely on recovering his physical condition, while the mute little nun was unable to speak.

Gradually, the sun set. As the last rays of sunset lingered, drums sounded within the nunnery.

The mute little nun looked at Wu Pifu, then took a string of wooden Buddhist beads from the room and headed straight for the main hall by the square.

Calling it a main hall was generous. It was merely a somewhat larger pillared room, just as dilapidated as the rest. Wu Pifu saw more than ten nuns gathered inside. Some looked over at him and pointed while whispering, but did nothing else. The mute little nun lowered her head and blended in among them.

Wu Pifu stopped practicing at that point. He simply lay down in the room and forced himself to fall asleep.

But midway through his sleep, a commotion erupted. Wu Pifu's eyes snapped open, and he strode from the room, running toward several connected wooden huts beside the square.

Outside one of the huts, a dark-skinned man had grabbed the mute little nun by the clothes at her waist. He first slapped her across the face, then cursed, "I call you Master only on ordinary days. Do you really think you're some great master? Only places like Chaoyin Nunnery have real masters. You little bitch are nothing but a whore, and you dare put on airs before me?"

As he spoke, he slapped the mute little nun again, knocking her to the ground.

Four or five nuns stood nearby, trembling like quails. Yet none dared speak, step forward, or even offer the slightest obstruction.

Still not satisfied, the dark-skinned man took several steps to the mute little nun's side, raised his foot, and prepared to kick her in the stomach.

The mute little nun merely closed her eyes, biting her lips until they bled, her entire body tensed.

But the expected agony never came. When she opened her eyes, she saw that the dark-skinned man's kick had been blocked by someone. That person stood between her and the dark-skinned man, with broad shoulders and a tall frame. The mute little nun, who had not cried just moments before, suddenly burst into large tears. She immediately made anxious, wordless cries.

The dark-skinned man was also stunned. His kick had been blocked one-handed by a man. No, by a one-armed man. He immediately shouted, "Where did this bastard come from, daring to block Master Niu? I'll—ah, ah! Let... let go!"

Wu Pifu stood a full 1.8 meters tall, at least a head and a half taller than the dark-skinned man. Their builds were roughly similar, though Wu Pifu looked thinner. When he had used the Tiger Demon Art to escape, it had consumed too much of his qi and blood.

But Wu Pifu possessed National Arts. His hand suddenly clenched like a steel pincer around the dark-skinned man's foot. With one hard squeeze, it felt as though he could crush the bones.

Though the dark-skinned man looked large and burly, he immediately began begging for mercy, loudly crying for the hero to spare his life.

Wu Pifu glanced at the surrounding nuns, then released the dark-skinned man, only growling, "Get lost!"

The dark-skinned man pulled back his foot. He did not dare say another word, not even leaving behind the usual bravado of a street thug who refused to lose face. He lowered his head and darted out of the nunnery.

Only after the thug had run far away did the nuns dare help the mute little nun up. Then they began talking over one another. One nun said to Wu Pifu, "You told Little Mute that you would take her away, didn't you?"

Wu Pifu nodded seriously.

Another nun said, "How will you take her away? Look at your injuries, look at you—you're clearly fleeing for your life. How can she go with you?"

Another nun added, "She has already started guarding her chastity for you, but what else can we do if we do not do this? Starve to death?"

Wu Pifu said nothing. He did not even have the thought of answering. He only said to the nuns, "Take care of her. I will repay you later."

With that, he walked straight out of the nunnery, following the direction the dark-skinned man had fled in as he strode after him.

Why had that dark-skinned man not dared leave even a few parting threats?

Because the thugs in this village had truly seen some things. He could recognize the kind of person he could not afford to provoke. It was not merely that he could not provoke them—he did not even want to say another word to such people. Just having that sort of person stand before him made his legs shake.

The kind of person who had killed before and seen blood.

Wu Pifu had not only killed before—he had killed more than one or two people.

At that moment, his eyes were filled with killing intent. The night was dark, and the wind was high.

It was the perfect night for murder!