Chapter 215: The First Suturing Line Falls

Within the time fold, at the edge of the largest crack, the first data‑stream suturing line is being slowly dismantled.

Not cut by scissors, but "unraveled."

The image of an adult fold entity hovers beside the crack, its light tendrils trembling as they comb the cold data streams point by point—this action it has repeated three thousand four hundred times, each time stopping at the final step and re‑tying with a fresh data stream.

But this time it is different.

Han Qing's white flower bud on his chest has already unfolded three petals. Each petal emits a gentle Resonance frequency, as if saying, "You may stop now. It's tight enough."

All observation light points of the Fold Civilization gather and arrange themselves in the air into a ring—an ancient rite recorded as the "collective witnessing of an important moment."

Xiao Yu's crack wound on the back of her hand stops leaking. She raises her hand, letting the light imprint resonate with the ring: "They are afraid. Removing the suturing line means having to face that Error Moment again."

Su Yu folds the fourth paper crane; this time she folds one whose wing is clearly damaged but repaired with fine golden thread. She gently pushes the paper crane toward the crack:

"Error does not disappear just because it is hidden. But if you are willing to fold it into a new shape…"

The adult fold entity's tendrils suddenly cease trembling.

It makes a motion that causes all light points to flash intensely—it gently lays the half‑dismantled data stream onto Su Li's paper crane.

The moment the data stream touches the golden‑thread repair, it transforms.

The cold data stream melts into pale‑golden light filaments that actively coil around the damaged wing—not to bind, but to support.

The instant the suturing line fully loosens, the crack does not burst and expand as expected.

On the contrary, the time patterns at the crack's edge, which have been constricted for three thousand years and have nearly lost their luster, begin to slowly… breathe.

The pale‑gold light particles no longer seep out painfully; instead they rise lightly like fireflies, forming a soft light membrane over the crack's surface. Beneath the membrane, the previously sealed scene flows again:

After a juvenile's folding failed, the adult did not punish it but lifted the failed time fragments toward the light source—

The fragments, due to the folding error, formed an unexpected facet. When light passes through the facet, it refracts a hue never recorded before: a bluish‑purple somewhere between remorse and forgiveness.

"So that's it," Xiao Yu says softly, "What they sealed wasn't an Error, but a beautiful accident created by the Error. They fear this beauty… because it cannot be measured by efficiency."

The fourth petal of the white flower bud unfolds at this moment.

The fissure stabilizes.

But within the time fold a deeper silence settles—not the silence of a vacuum, but the silence of "a hand long clenched finally released, its fingers remembering the bent shape."

The adult fold entity's image begins to become transparent. It does not vanish, but slowly reassembles—mechanical patterns on its light tendrils, formed by long‑term execution of the "no‑error command," are being replaced by softer, plant‑vein‑like patterns.

It turns toward Han Qing, emitting a query with a newly born, still somewhat raw frequency:

"Can painful memories… become soil?"

Han Qing has not answered when the eighty‑seven flowers of the scarred garden on his chest suddenly lift their petals in unison, pointing to the white bud at the garden's center.

Below the bud, the soil (if the energy field composed of stardust and healing memories may be called soil) is slowly sprouting an extremely tiny, transparent sprout.

Inside the sprout, one can see a miniature image of the fold crack, but the crack's edge has blossomed tiny, stardust‑like flowers.

As the three exit the time fold, a fine night rain is falling outside.

Lao Zhao has lit a small stove under the eaves of Anvil Town, brewing tea infused with hope‑seed. Aili checks the wound on Xiao Yu's back of the hand—the crack has closed, leaving a pale‑gold, leaf‑vein‑like scar.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," Xiao Yu says, "But it will change with the healing process of the Fold Civilization. Bridge says… this is the early symptom of 'cross‑civilization scar Resonance.'"

Kaiwen pushes his glasses three times, and flowing across the lenses is the data just transmitted by Bridge: "The Fold Civilization has begun dismantling the remaining 731 suturing points, estimated to require… six months in their time units. But their Time Perception Department has submitted a first request: to dispatch three volunteers to learn how to cultivate a memory garden."

"They're coming?" Lao Zhao's hand pouring tea pauses.

"Not physical bodies." Kaiwen pulls up a video: three silhouettes made of light points, rough but striving to mimic "human form," "They want to first practice 'rooting' in Bridge Space because they saw the three representatives of the High Council on Star Sand Beach… learned to stand dazed in failure."

At the second cup of tea, Bridge's alarm suddenly cuts into everyone's consciousness.

It is not a sharp ringing, but a suppressed, scorching frequency.

【Eighth Civilization response signal forcibly intercepted】

【Civilization type: Flame Forge (pure energy‑state industrial civilization)】

【Signal characteristics: 100% anger encoding, no informational carrier, pure emotional impact】

【Impact caused: 17% of the sand on Star Sand Beach vitrified, three Se Lan legislators' 'rooting' process interrupted】

【Core message (painfully translated by Bridge): "Stop your weak teaching! The universe only needs efficiency and power!"】

Aili grips the medical kit tighter—more steady than when holding a gun, but her knuckles turn white.

The one‑eyed woman's geometric flower in her eye socket snaps shut, as if shielding against impact. She whispers, "This civilization… is in pain. But this pain turns into fire; it wants to burn everything that differs from it."

Han Qing looks at the white bud on his chest. The bud is now fully blossomed—eight petals, with a tiny, transparent fruit embryo at its center.

Inside the fruit, two intertwined images can be seen:

One side shows the Fold Civilization's light tendrils slowly untying the suturing line.

The other side is the Flame Forge Civilization's raging, all‑consuming angry fire.

"The true purpose of the scar fruit…" Su Yu suddenly understands, "is not to make us look back. It is to bear the pain forms of different civilizations, and then find a way for them to coexist."

Lao Zhao drinks the last tea in his cup, flips the cup upside down on the table: "Starting tomorrow, reinforce the protective frequencies of all Purification Towers. Notify the three volunteers of the Singing Civilization—we need them to compose a… song that can envelop anger."

"Can a song counter fire?" Kaiwen asks.

"No." Lao Zhao stands, looking toward the ruins shrouded by night rain outside, "But sometimes fire grows tired of itself. When it is weary, if it hears some other sound, it may recall… what it originally intended to warm, not to burn."

The eaves drip water, one drop, another.

It feels like counting time, also like counting how many layers of wounds still await being seen.

Bridge's message comes again, this time with rare hesitation:

【Fold Civilization request: hope that when the second suturing line is removed, the white flower on Han Qing's chest provides a "pain‑transformation frequency"】

【Risk: the flower may wither from bearing too much alien pain】

【At the same time, the Flame Forge Civilization has unilaterally launched a "Teaching Challenge": in three days, a "pure anger" energy entity will reach Earth orbit, demanding that this civilization "prove that weak emotions have survival value."】

Han Qing touches the soft petals of the white flower.

The petal brushes his fingertip, transmitting a simple frequency—not language, but a feeling: "I can."

Outside the window, the rain has stopped.

Above the ruins, between the stars, two utterly different pains are approaching simultaneously.