Hongfu

Hearing the prompt, Chen Chuan refused directly. "No need." The voice faded away. He first went to wash his face, then began organizing his belongings. About fifteen minutes later, a voice from his boundary credential notified him that the courier would arrive downstairs in ten minutes, asking if he needed campus security to deliver it to his dormitory door for an additional fee. He didn't pinch pennies and indicated that he did. Another quarter of an hour or so later, a chime sounded. He walked over to open the door, took a box from the security guard, thanked him, closed the door, and returned inside. He set the box on the table and opened it. Inside, there were no ice packs like those in Old Qi's case, only a sealed pouch nestled deep within thick cushioning foam. He took the item out and removed the packaging, revealing a near-transparent visor. Upon closer inspection, fine tubular veins seemed to run through it. From its back extended delicate bone tubes capable of wrapping around the head and face, coming together into an osseous clasp at the nape of the neck. Without a close look, one would hardly notice it was there once worn, mistaking it for an accessory. Light as it appeared, it was remarkably tough. Furthermore, being made of biological material, if damaged, it could self-repair when soaked in a compatible nutrient solution. It cost 3,520 Jianyuan notes, though versions priced at over ten thousand or even higher existed. The best were custom-made luxury pieces; at this price point, it was considered a relatively cheap, practical general model, requiring only an added purchasing fee. He took off the bone mask and put the new device on. Immediately, he felt the fibrous bone tubes extend on their own, hooking around his ears and snapping shut at his neck. The moment he tapped it, he found that it was indeed different. The flickering lights outside the building grew sharper and more vivid. Functionally, adding contacts no longer required the aid of a boundary point, and he could browse various interfaces and services directly. Its greatest departure from the bone mask was the ability to receive visual displays. A light screen materialized roughly half a foot to a foot in front of him, allowing him to browse and communicate via finger gestures or voice commands, as well as filter out useless light pollution he didn't care to see. Only now did he realize that an obsolete model like the bone mask dumped all surrounding information indiscriminately into the senses. Had it not been for him, an ordinary person struggling to adjust would surely suffer dizziness and nausea—though there was no guaranteeing some wouldn't actually acquire a taste for it. He checked his contact interface. There were currently two contacts. Old Qi's personal comms avatar was a cool man brandishing a dagger and wearing fingerless gloves. Tan Zhi's was different—a scholar in traditional attire, wearing a scholar's turban and holding a feather fan, which gently swayed while the faint sounds of flowing water and a guqin played in the background. Aside from this, there was a message from half an hour ago, followed by a review inquiry from Tongxing Commission Company. Chen Chuan tapped directly on the "Good" rating, swiped the screen away, and began looking up other matters. He first reviewed the essential information every student at the academy needed to know, then gave it some thought and searched for "biological field interactive link technology." This time, results appeared almost immediately. Biological field technology had emerged seventy years ago, based on super-massive mimetic biogroups. Through transit nodes and bio-contact interfaces, individual biological fields within its scope were merged and integrated into the linked field it accommodated. It was an enormous collective biogroup spanning the entire Center City. Each boundary point served as one of its neural tentacles, through which individuals could strengthen their connection to it. Meanwhile, the boundary credential was the port interacting directly with the human body, allowing the field to recognize and verify each individual to convey and exchange information back and forth. The conscious entities served as the hubs responsible for processing this colossal volume of information, divided into active conscious entities and inactive conscious entities. Inactive conscious entities were distributed throughout the entire city, assisting with and processing countless daily information flows, though they were rigid and inflexible, incapable of any response beyond their granted permissions. Center City's conscious entity, "Posuo," was an active conscious entity answerable directly to government administration and public departments. It autonomously made optimal judgments based on varying external circumstances. It possessed a colossal body somewhere between plant and animal, kept under the heavy guard of government security divisions. The corporations in Center City each owned independent active bio-conscious entities to serve their needs, designating them with specific codenames—such as Wuyi's "Hongfu." Her body lay buried deep within "Yanzhou" beneath the Xuan Palace, yet her tentacles reached into every corner of Wuyi. She could guard against incursions by other bio-conscious entities and mount active attacks when necessary. She could disconnect from Fumu at any time, forming an independent biological field entity to sustain usage for Wuyi's internal personnel. In fact, Wuyi's daily internal operations did not route through Fumu at all. That was the extent of the general introduction provided on the interface, aimed at the public. However, there was no detailed account of how these things and technologies had actually evolved or the precise process behind them. To inquire further required higher clearance. Yet ordinary people likely had little interest in knowing anyway, as it was simply too remote from their lives. Most people merely wanted to enjoy the conveniences these technologies provided without caring where they came from. Curiously, under such technological conditions, the upper strata still placed great importance on fighters, and Wuyi Academy was even situated at Center City's... Seeing that he could search for nothing more, Chen Chuan casually swiped away an opportunistic advertisement and began browsing Center City news, which was mostly filled with reports of violent incidents in the Lower District. The Lower District was merely an umbrella term rather than a single distinct area. Most of its inhabitants were residents with no official status or only temporary status, yet they accounted for the vast majority of Center City's population. And the true "Lower District" was the vast slum sprawling beneath Center City. Just then, a piece of news caught his eye: around four o'clock this afternoon, an algae oil power plant in the northern industrial district had been bombed, causing a blackout across a large area. The municipal public security forces had locked down several major streets and city entrances, and the lockdown was still ongoing. This was likely why he had encountered patrol vehicles on the road today. However, seeing numerous corporate security forces in the news footage, he figured the matter could not be so simple. After checking through everything, he saw it was already nine-thirty. Taking off the boundary credential, he went to the shower, changed his clothes, and went to bed, quickly drifting into deep sleep. When he got up and emerged, he walked to the window. Looking down from his current vantage point, he estimated the height at around three hundred meters, overlooking nearly half the city. Day had not yet broken completely. Lingering sea mist drifted around several tall buildings, veiling them in haze. Flakes of broken grayish-blue clouds scattered across the canopy of the sky, with a halo of golden red pressed against one edge of the horizon. The morning sun was on the verge of rising. This was a world devoid of boundary credentials—or in Old Qi's words, a fake Center City, not its true face. Chen Chuan remembered when Jing Lin had met him, repeatedly speaking of some "true world." In hindsight, he had likely meant everything behind the boundary credential. Immersing oneself in such a biological field and enjoying conveniences unavailable outside would indeed foster a sense of psychological superiority and condescension toward outsiders. Yet this state of affairs was quite abnormal. Cheng Zitong had once told him that the world was divided into circles, partly due to practical realities and partly because of human design. He could sense that behind this so-called true world lay deeper, unknown secrets. Even so, he had a premonition: as his strength grew, even if he did not actively seek them out, these things would sooner or later reveal themselves before him. After watching for a while, he set about doing the most important task after enrollment. He picked up the boundary credential from the desk, put it on, and entered the four-hundred-square-meter private training room. Connecting to Wuyi Academy's bio-conscious entity, he began searching for the curriculum courses he needed to take upon admission. Upon entering Wuyi Academy's interface, a voice sounded by his ear: "Student Chen Chuan has been detected as an incoming freshman. The academy must conduct a basic test and potential assessment on said student to confirm whether the student meets study standards and possesses the ability to complete academic coursework during their enrollment. Would you like to conduct the test now? If so, please summon 'Hongfu.'" Upon hearing this, Chen Chuan said, "Hongfu, I need to take an entrance test now." The very moment he issued the request, he saw the red-clad woman who had stood atop the upturned eaves the previous night appear in the training room. Up close, her eyes above the veil looked even more spirited and lively. Unlike the night before, a goose-quill saber hung at her waist, a red tassel tied to its pommel. "Seeing that you use a blade, I thought you might like sabers, so I brought one along." Though fundamentally the same entity, her voice was completely different from what he had heard through the interactive boundary credential earlier—dashing and heroic, immensely pleasing to the ear, vibrant and rich with emotion. She seemed like a more independent individual, much more like a living human being. Chen Chuan said politely, "Thank you." Hongfu's eyes fixed upon him for a moment. With a gentle wave of her hand, the surrounding scenery abruptly shifted. Clouds and mist churned, countless peaks rose and fell, and brilliant golden light beamed in from the side. Chen Chuan found himself standing atop one of the mountain peaks, with Hongfu standing not far across from him, the two confronting each other across the open air. Hongfu said, "Draw your saber." Chen Chuan was somewhat surprised. This was all a virtual environment—could such a test genuinely measure one's real skill? Still, since she had chosen this method, there had to be a reason. He nodded, held Xuejun Saber horizontally before him, grasped the scabbard, and gave it a light flick to the side. The scabbard flew off, revealing a blade radiating cold brilliance. Seeing him draw his blade, Hongfu gripped the hilt of her goose-quill saber with slender, pale fingers and drew it with a sharp clang. A flash of red, robes fluttering, and she appeared before Chen Chuan in an instant, slashing down at him with her blade. This time, Chen Chuan didn't use... His eyes narrowed slightly. This sensation was definitely not simulated. Could the one he was facing right now actually be a living, breathing person?