The broken meteorites tumbled in the energy pot, turning fluffy and deep yellow.
Dad said, “Let’s eat. They’re this year’s freshly harvested carbon meteorites, rich in iron and calcium.”
Mom said, “In the distant past, today was the Bite Disaster Festival. On the first day of the twelfth lunar month, we bite roasted snacks to ward off disaster and avoid misfortune, ensuring a bountiful harvest and good luck for the coming year.”
Can the calamities of the apocalypse be bitten away?
Can the polluted wastelands still yield crops?
Crunch, crunch. I bit down on a meteorite, feeling the grittiness between my teeth. I spat it out and saw a golden seed.
Crack, crack. More seeds fell from the sky. Even after the raging fire and the scorching wind, they still took root in the abandoned land, sprouting leaves, blossoming, and being reborn.
The elevator reached the first floor, and Lucky eagerly pulled me outside.
The property robot, Little Q, smiled and greeted me. In the past, he would remind me that there was also a dog park on the 150th floor, and I could take the cloud bus to the suburban forest. But since I lived on the 138th floor, he told me there was no need to go downstairs.
However, I still took Lucky downstairs every time. So, the robot stopped reminding me.
Actually, I’m too embarrassed to tell him the truth: The dog park on the 150th floor has too many robotic dogs, and Lucky doesn’t like them.
But would that be too rude?
“This type of death is called Lingchi, the death penalty in which the victim is sliced a thousand times before dying.”
“Wow!”
“This reflects the core concept of ancient human execution culture: the process of dying is more important, terrifying, and educational than death itself.”
“I see.”
“Over here, we have another famous ancient execution method, called hanging.”
“Wow!”
“Further along, there are methods like the ‘cannon roasting,’ decapitation, breaking on the wheel, and the iron maiden—different methods have different meanings.”
“And what’s that?” A tourist pointed to a blank wall.
“Oh, that’s the ultimate death method, the final destination of human civilisation, called: Being Forgotten by All Life.”
A new exhibition hall at the “Earth’s Historical Figures” museum showcases AI replicas of famous historical figures, restoring their work and life based on historical records and their personalities.
On the first day of the exhibition, the museum received numerous complaints from parents: The scientists weren’t doing research, the writers weren’t writing, and the artists weren’t creating; a bunch of biorobotics were just playing cards, chatting, eating, and having fun. It was false advertising and had a terrible impact.
The museum decided to close the exhibition hall and hand it over to a renowned biorobotics training camp to reset it. Although there were negative rumours about the camp’s inhumane training methods, after the exhibit reopened, it received high praise. Many visitors said it was truly inspiring and beneficial. They even planned to bring their children back for more exposure.
Recently, a reporter from Consumer News went undercover at a popular internet-famous country-style restaurant. The restaurant claimed their ingredients were purely natural, with no “food additives”. But the investigation results were shocking:
The reporter visited the farm that supplied the restaurant’s ingredients and was appalled to find that in the cramped breeding pens, there were numerous mountain-climbing machines, with each chicken wearing a 5D VR device, playing virtual mountain forest environments. The farm also used a time accelerator to make the chickens grow three years’ worth of meat in just two months.
The investigation also revealed that the restaurant’s signature dish, “Stewed Chicken with Mushrooms,” used so-called “wild and pollution-free nut-tree mushrooms. But they were actually grown in a separate alternate space, cultivated by orcs.
“Are you from the cultural inspection team?”
“Yes.”
“You’re here to shut down my travel agency?”
“Yes.”
“Why? All of my travel routes are legal and compliant, and the guides are fully qualified. They have never received any complaints from tourists and have never taken tourists to buy things.”
“You misunderstand. It’s because you run a time-travel agency.”
“So what? We obey the laws and regulations of every era we visit. We never disrupt the timeline.”
“That’s not the problem.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“You’re showing people the real faces of historical figures. This is a devastating cultural shock, so the agency must be shut down.”
Today, weather is completely controlled by systems, and the meteorological station often sees disputes:
The open-air concert in the east of the city requires clear sunny skies.
The mist party in the south of the city needs heavy fog.
The agricultural conference in the west of the city requires new simulated rainwater irrigation technology to be demonstrated.
In the end, the west of the city won the control rights, and it was supposed to be a warm rainy day.
As the masses eagerly awaited, the heavy rain never came.
“Alert: Control system malfunction!”
As everyone stood in confusion, the first snowflake fell from the sky.
Thick white snow began to bury the streets. The weather centre paralysed, and the city’s weather coordination system was thrown into chaos.
The system couldn’t be turned off, and an ancient piece of advice appeared on the screen:
“Great snow has arrived, and all things are hidden.”
“This Sunday is New Year’s Eve. Any plans?” he asked, staring at the calendar.
His colleague was a little surprised. “You don’t know? New Year’s Eve has been pushed to next Tuesday.”
“What? Did the orbit slow down again?”
His colleague pointed at the screen. “The notice came yesterday— the sun’s mass has decreased again. To maintain the stability of the Earth-Sun distance, the orbit must slow down. So, New Year’s Eve was delayed.”
“Damn it, I just bought a limited edition calendar for next year. Now it’s useless.”
His colleague laughed. “No. It’s not useless. Now it’s truly limited edition.”
“Robbery!”
The voice of the “Multi-Planet” translation software suddenly echoed at the hatch of my spaceship, as a group of tentacle monsters rudely barged in.
I hugged my little dog, shivering, watching the tentacles rummage through my luggage.
In the end, they stole my eight-treasure porridge, pickled garlic, and bagels, because the alien cultural recognition software identified them as treasure chests, jade, and golden bracelets, classifying them as high-value items.
Thanks to the stupid recognition software, I managed to keep my wallet but lost my dinner. Fortunately, peace is a blessing.
But my dog kept barking to express its dissatisfaction— the silly software had mistaken it for a cheap feather duster.
Hello, have you taken off your mind cap lately?
You may be immersed in entertainment, unable to pull yourself away, or busy with work, but as your mind fills up, don’t let your body wither and decay in the real world.
Can’t juggle both? Don’t worry. Put on our newly launched Shepherd Mech, and we’ll take care of your body.
Daily washing, bathing in sunlight, muscle rehabilitation … Everything can be handled by the mech.
Trust us, when you return to the real world, you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the changes.
Her daughter told her to tap the wall lightly, but she still had to strike it hard. However, once she woke up the smart wall, she became more adept at using it than her daughter. First, she arranged for the laundry, then ordered the car to deliver food to her daughter. Later, she’d need the car to pick up her grandson and take him to the AI-supervised class.
Sitting in front of the wall for an entire day often left her with a stiff back, and before she knew it, night had fallen. But her daughter felt that she had been acting strange in the past few months, especially at night when she sat in front of the wall, scrolling through short videos.
Today, Mrs. Wang, her neighbour, was surprised to see her walk out of the door alone. “Are you going grocery shopping?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled and shook her head.
With her savings clutched tightly, she climbed into the sightseeing rocket, which roared into space. She couldn’t help but smile, recalling her youthful dream of gazing at the cosmos.
“Don’t you like the idea of a lunar burial either? Many people choose to stay on the Moon and gaze at Earth from there.”
The elderly woman shook her head.
“Then… how about a burial at Europa’s seas? Didn’t you love swimming when you were young?”
She shook her head again.
“Or … a solar cremation? We can select the most suitable orbit for your ashes to fall into the sun after touring the inner solar system. It’s a very fashionable funeral these days.”
Still, a shake of the head.
“Well then … How about becoming a micro-planet to guard the solar system forever?”
“What about tree burial in the Titan greenhouse?”
“Or a view of the galactic core from the Oort Cloud?”
“I … want … to be buried next to my late husband.”
Mountain Day Routine Mountaineering. Before departure, I checked my equipment: 38L backpack, trekking poles, 3L water bottle, nesting stove, tripod stabilizer, stove/folding titanium fork-spoon, camping lamp, headlamp, hiking tent, inflatable mattress, ground chair … packed and ready, total weight 7.8 kg.
I took out my phone, aimed the PIM lens at my bulging backpack, adjusted the compression ratio, and clicked to take a photo. The phone supported a 10:1 particle compression, so after compressing, the backpack could fit into my crossbody bag. Upon arriving at the campsite, I could use the quantum lens to decompress it.
With everything packed, I found myself already anticipating the sunrise at the mountaintop when dawn arrived.
Despite using contraception, she still ended up pregnant.
During the shopping festival, she rushed to purchase a portable uterus, an AI doctor on-demand service, and a nanny robot…
She thought to herself, “Thank you, technology. It’s a critical period for the project, so I’ll just take half a day off for minor surgery. My boss should approve, and I can keep my position.”
In the morning, all her orders were cancelled by her mother-in-law.
The mother-in-law said indignantly, “You’re such a spendthrift! A baby carried by a machine won’t bond with you … All women carry their babies on their own! It’s been this way for everyone, and you’re just being dramatic!”
She angrily had a huge argument with her mother-in-law.
At the police station, her husband said, “Officer, it’s a blessing I was wearing an invisibility cloak. I have two tigresses at home. They’re a real nightmare!”
“Don’t be discouraged, my friend. It’s just a few months of polar nights and blizzards.”
“Easy for you to say. The winter nights are so dark. It’s suffocating. It’s so oppressive, and it makes me want to die.”
“That’s why I prepared some entertainment.” He looked at me, grinning mysteriously. “Just like the people of Harbin in winter, let’s entertain ourselves in the world of ice and snow.”
They poured water into the cracks in the ice, creating numerous large holes, then carved out structures resembling whistle pieces.
On the day the blizzard arrived, the howling winds played the ice whistles, and the entire ice gorge became a flute. The wind blew in different directions, playing a tune of the long night and extreme winter. After two months of dark nights, there was a symphony of high winds and ethereal ice valleys, a performance that would never be repeated.
He proudly showed me this, calling it the “Voice of the Long Winter.”
The relentless snow outside her house made the bird songs and floral scents from her neighbour’s house stand out all the more.
“Do you want your emotions become visible? The meteorological projector will express it for you.”
She remembered the advertisement. When she begged her husband to take out a loan to install the meteorological projector, she had wanted others to see. She wanted her relatives to notice her grandeur, to see the endless sunshine at her home, so that they would know how much her husband loved her, and how happy she was.
But the meteorological device had projected snow inside her home. The second year, the third year, the snow piled higher and higher.
She tried her best to keep her husband at ease, pushed her underperforming children to work harder, and visited their teachers on their behalf. Family happiness was her happiness. She had worked so hard. Why couldn’t the meteorological device see it?
The device must be broken. She stared at the white world, buried in snow, feeling helpless.
The reporter asked, “What made you decide to write Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio?”
Pu Songling said, “The world is full of unspeakable terrifying powers, but we can’t speak of them directly, or the world will perish. But we can’t remain silent either, because if we do, people will sink into illusory peace, until they perish.”
“So you turned these into strange tales?”
“Ordinary people will think they’re a joke and won’t bring harm; those who understand will remember them and stay vigilant.”
“Are you not afraid that future generations will focus on the love stories and immortal beings, overlooking the cryptic warnings you’ve left?”
“If it does happen as you say, let the future generations perish. They are not worth saving.”
“The ultimate theory can’t be this complicated.” The professor shook his head, looking at the math formula written on a thousand pages of A4 paper.
“This is the most consistent model with all the observational data,” the AI replied coldly.
“Definitely overfitted. The ultimate theory should be elegant, simple—just a single equation, not 1,000 pages of pure formulas without any text explanation.”
“But nature is like this.”
“You AI just don’t understand the beauty of nature.”
Suddenly, God appeared. “Ah, so nature needs to be simple! I got it!”
And thus, the universe was destroyed, leaving no trace of matter or force.
She had walked into the Red Lotus Obstetrics and Gynaecology Hospital many times.
The new foetus, selected via AI genetic screening, was of the highest quality. Gender, appearance, intelligence, personality … This time, her husband, in-laws, and parents’ requirements had all been met, and she could keep the child. She sighed in relief.
The doctor said, “Madam, it’s a perfect child. It will surely fulfil your wishes.”
Eighteen years later, she stared in disbelief at the figure on the rooftop, shouting:
“You are my everything, my perfect child! Why won’t you listen to me?”
Before jumping, the child gently said:
“Mom, this is your hidden wish, and also mine: to release you from the prison of the perfect mother.”
Outside the Deep Sleep City, people stood waiting for those in deep sleep to awaken.
“Think about your family. Your family can’t afford it for all your children within three years.”
Three years ago, Mei was persuaded by her family to take the deep sleep.
The three years of depression flowed past me, making me look gaunt.
But my best friend, also my greatest rival—Mei—emerged, as youthful as ever.
I realized that our friendship had cracked. I didn’t have a family that could afford deep sleep.
Finally, after technological advancements, more people gained access.
Three years later, when I emerged from Deep Sleep City, Mei didn’t come. She had been put into an even longer deep sleep by her family’s request.
Another close friend came to greet me. Over the past three years, she had caught the wave of success and now had a thriving career.
I guess we too had our cracks.
“Amitabha, Master, is there really no problem with the visualisation instrument?”
“Well, yes, the Six Realms visualisation instrument can merge the minds of people worldwide into your brain and automatically analyse your inner demons, creating the challenges most likely to defeat you. If you can withstand them, your heart will be tempered, and you’ll reach enlightenment.”
“Well … isn’t this just an emotional network and a brain helmet? Why do you make it sound so complicated?”
“If we don’t make it sound good, people won’t pay to buy it!”
“Mr. Yan, we’ve read the report on your invention of the spatial replicator, but we’ve never seen it in action. Could you give us a demonstration?” The patent office officials flipped through the report, eyeing me like I was some kind of circus performer.
I explained repeatedly: “My replicator is very dangerous. It doesn’t just replicate space; it replicates all the lifeforms within the space, and they will overlap in a different form within the new replicated space…”
They didn’t pay attention to my words, instead sneering.
In frustration, I pressed the button on the replicator: “Select All – Copy – Paste.”
Suddenly, outside of the human world, there was the Underworld, and one hundred billion wandering ghosts in it.
On 20 December, the Top Ten Internet Slang of Silicon-based Lifeforms was released. After twenty years, “grease” made the list again, characterised by:
Note: On the day before Winter Solstice in 2017, the Top Ten Internet Slang was released, with “grease” ranked tenth.
“Experiment over, shutting down the cryogenic device … huh? Why are you hitting me? That hurts!”
“After you close the door, you have to knock three times; otherwise, you’ll be unlucky. It’s a custom here to knock three times to eliminate the bad luck.”
“What a weird custom. Aren’t you worried the automatic door will break from all the knocking?”
A hundred years ago:
“Damn it, who didn’t close the fridge door properly? The popsicles all melted.”
“I checked the door every time. Maybe the fridge door is too old to close! That’s tough luck.”
“You know what? Let’s make it a rule—every time we close the fridge door, we have to push it three times to check. Anyone who doesn’t follow this rule gets three knocks, like stepping on a manhole cover in the northeast!”
“Master!” Someone visited Fuxi.
It was a young man seeming the age of eleven or twelve, but could possibly already be a father. He wanted to learn the art of divination.
Fuxi said, “Observe, then summarise the patterns—that is divination.”
The young man’s eyes lit up, “That’s it. I want to learn the best way!”
“The sun and the moon are the greatest,” Fuxi said. “The sun sets and rises, the moon disappears and reappears, and the weather gets cold and hot. This is the way of the calendar. Do you want to learn it?”
“Yes!” The young man replied excitedly.
“Then first, you need to find the day with the longest day, the shortest night, and the longest shadow.”
The young man said yes and was about to leave. Fuxi called out to him: “What’s your name?”
“My name is He,” the young man said with a simple smile, and left.
Note: [Emperor Yao] commanded He and Fuxi to follow the will of Heaven, study the sun, moon, and stars, and respectfully teach humanity the path of time… They set the calendar to 366 days in a cycle, adding leap months to regulate the seasons—Book of Documents, Yao Dian.
In the past decade, the bandwidth of communication increased by a thousand times, and the 12G system finally achieved atomic-level digital alignment for human bodies.
No matter if lovers were in different cities, on the moon, or even on Mars: they no longer felt the pain of separation. With just one command, they could aggregate a mirror atomic lover that can be viewed, touched, and has all five senses.
However, this technological advancement brought a small problem: after marriage, people no longer wanted to live together. Compared to their pristine, adjustable atomic lovers who could be muted or erased at will, the real-life spouse—snoring, grinding teeth, and sloppy—could no longer fit into the bedroom.
On Christmas Eve, I received a notification from the app: “So far, your digital proxies have lived together for 365 days. During this time, you’ve broken up 520 times, said ‘I love you’ 1,314 times, and fought 0 times. Your virtual marriage stability index surpasses 99% of users. The Digital Civil Affairs Bureau hereby awards you the ‘Marriage Peace Certificate.’ Congratulations, you can now get married offline!”
I uninstalled the app because my digital proxy had been driven to the point of wanting to self-destruct. Over the past 365 days, it had been broken up with 520 times, beaten 1,314 times, and had been forced to say “I love you” 1,314 times.
“Christmas Special, buy three, get one free! Everyone, be quick!”
She quickly unboxed the memory orbs, and the projection images kept switching.
“Wow, it’s sunrise on a snow mountain!” “You got the aurora! Congratulations, dear!”
To save on procurement costs, she had uploaded her own memories to AI, providing it with fragments worth selling. Privacy didn’t matter; she only cared about making enough money for lunch that day on the cyber bazaar.
“Is the host lagging?”
“Why is it not moving?”
The familiar snowflake paper cutting made her dizzy. Many years ago, she was also someone’s darling.
“Thank you for the Christmas snowflakes, darling! They’re just like you, a one-of-a-kind gift for mommy.”
The food simulation experience device “Food God” was completed! It could read memories and restore the taste and feeling of food! I eagerly entered “egg dumplings I ate as a child.”
The scorched aroma emanated from the small frying pan on the stove! The perspective was adjusted to a child’s height! Everything seemed just like I remembered!
“No, this isn’t the right taste.”
“What’s wrong? This is what you remember—duck eggs mixed with chicken eggs, plus wine, and there’s water chestnut in the meat filling. Isn’t that right? Don’t blame me for suing you for slander!”
I suddenly realized that, when my parents first made egg dumplings, I couldn’t wait to steal a bite. “Food God” was designed to prevent food from being too hot for the user …
This stone has been lying there for one hundred thousand years.
If someone were to live long enough to record its shifting position on the cliff—of course, excluding geological movements and the extra displacements caused by storms—thus only recording its spontaneous movement, we would find that it has drawn a symbol over a hundred thousand years.
Of course, no one can live for one hundred thousand years.
And no one recognises that symbol.
“Why isn’t the communicator working?”
“The word ‘hello’ wasn’t finished when that ultra-high-speed sub-intelligent life form took it to make a weapon.”
My figure in the mirror looked so strange …
I raised my palm, and the person in the mirror did the same.
Yes, there’s no difference between our palms and clothes. So why does it seem so odd?
Is this really how I look?
I stretched my hand toward the mirror …
And then slipped through the gap between the fingers.
“Ah, you found me.”
It was a large, colour-changing, flat-shaped creature attached to the mirror. It roamed public restrooms, feeding on cockroaches in the space. It had a certain level of intelligence and enjoyed mimicking characters from horror movies to scare people who look into the mirror. I suspect it to be just another playful interactive pet created by someone.
— Victim’s Report
The little universe expanded slowly and evenly.
In the end, it neither tore apart nor collapsed. Instead, it gave birth to dark matter-dropped acid.
Under its influence, the planetary belt that connects the cosmic singularity began to decompose, producing dangerous delamination.
Within these delamination zones, countless celestial bodies started to face programmatic death, accelerating the expansion of the delamination. Without the singularity’s pull, the little universe began to drift away and fall.
At that moment, it had no awareness that, because of it, the gears of humanity’s fate had begun to turn.
At this very moment, only 22 years remained before a young man, standing beneath a tree, would propose the universal law of gravitation that would lead humanity into a new universe.
“Our programmers, product managers, data scientists, and neural network researchers are working day and night, tirelessly pushing the final boundaries. Everyone is following the plan and working at full capacity. We’re on track to achieve AGI by the end of the year—an AGI capable of creativity, emotion, empathy, and self-reflection!”
“You mean, you’re trying to turn humans as much into machines as possible, so that machines can turn into humans?”
He regretted his cowardice deeply—he decided to confess to her tonight, but he was terrified of stuttering and being rejected … In the end, he made a foolish decision: he rented a humanoid robot that looked and sounded exactly like him to confess for him!
She accepted it and kissed the robot.
Such an absurd way to lose his first kiss!
He gathered his courage to apologize, to explain everything.
He opened the door, only to find her standing at his door.
She too was nervous: “I … I came to apologize. I was so anxious tonight that I rented a robot to meet you. But actually, I … I really like you … ”
They embraced tightly, and shared their first kiss again.
