Chapter 227: The Ununderstood Aroma

On the second day of evaluation, the monitoring spores changed their strategy.

They no longer floated to observe, but began to attach—condensing like dew on every blade of hope grass, on every tea‑cup rim, even on the surface of amber‑colored fruits. Bridge's report shows they are attempting "experiential data collection": by synchronously perceiving an object's physical state, they aim to understand the parts that cannot be quantified.

A translucent jellyfish has a single tentacle, on which seventeen spores now hang. It speaks in a puzzled frequency: "They are imitating my 'tactile sense'. But tactile sense… requires emotion to interpret whether a temperature is 'warm' or 'scorching'."

In the morning, the Blooming Devourers decided not to passively await analysis. They gathered in front of the purification tower, demanding a "public demonstration".

The Inverted Tree‑shaped Devourer extended its roots and released from its body the first restored memory fruit— a fragment of lost Seran civilization that it had selected from the massive memories it had devoured.

The fruit hovered in the air, slowly unfolding a scene:

Three thousand two hundred years ago, the Seran homeworld's "First Cry Celebration".

It was not the solemn, dignified ceremony recorded officially, but a hidden corner unrecorded: a young Seran individual (its faceplate still a translucent pale gold) hid behind a massive energy pillar, secretly trying to bend the ceremony's light flow into the shape of a bird. She failed seven times; on the eighth, the bird's wing was crooked, but the crookedness happened to capture a special light refraction, projecting rainbow‑like speckles onto the wall.

Her mentor (an elder Seran whose faceplate was riddled with cracks) did not reprimand her, but crouched down and pointed at the rainbow speckle, saying:

"Look, the Error Signal sometimes opens a window."

The scene should have ended here—the memory was incomplete when devoured. Yet now, the Inverted Tree's roots trembled gently, and the missing portion was restored:

The young Seran lifted its head, its faceplate shimmering: "But what's outside the window?"

The elder Seran remained silent for a long time, then said, "What is there is unimportant. What matters is… you know there is a window there."

The scene froze at the moment the young Seran extended a tentacle, gently touching the rainbow speckle.

At the instant the restoration completed, all monitoring spores vibrated simultaneously!

They emitted a dense data stream, analyzing the energy consumption and output of this "restoration action". The result puzzled them:

【Restoration energy consumption: equivalent to powering a standard Seran city for 3.7 seconds】

【Direct output: zero (the memory contains no usable technological information)】

【Indirectly detected impact: emotional fluctuation index of present Seran individuals (including remote observer Lingran) rose 41%】

【Most anomalous data: during restoration, the Inverted Tree Devourer's "confusion index" dropped 63%, and it began autonomously producing trace amounts of "hope"-related neurotransmitter analogs— despite having no nervous system】

The amber‑colored fruit immediately seized this contradiction and asked the spores:

"If restoring a memory of no practical value can significantly reduce the repairer's 'confusion' and trigger 'emotional resonance' in observers, can this be regarded as an efficient form of 'spiritual ecological maintenance'?"

The spores were silent for five minutes—a very long decision time for them.

Finally, they replied:

"This phenomenon is recorded as 'Anomaly Pending Further Study‑04'. However, preliminary approval: the concept of 'spiritual ecology' has been incorporated into the evaluation model's extension items."

The Inverted Tree gently swayed its roots, its frequency carrying a barely perceptible… satisfaction.

【7】 At noon, Lao Zhao brewed tea as usual. But today, when hot water poured into the cup, several spores attached to the cup wall suddenly changed color—from transparent to pale amber.

At noon, Old Zhao brewed tea as usual. But today, when hot water was poured into the teacup, several spores clinging to the inner wall suddenly changed color—from transparent to pale amber.

"They are experiencing temperature." Xiao Yu stared at the spores, "not measuring, but experiencing. Bridge says their perception module is simulating a 'warm' neural signal."

Lao Zhao lifted the cup and blew on it. The spores quivered slightly with the airflow.

He took a sip and set the cup down. The spores swiftly analyzed the tea's temperature change curve, oral contact area, and muscular energy consumption of the swallowing motion.

Then Lao Zhao did something: he added a pinch of salt to his own cup—a habit of the ruin dwellers; purified water always has a metallic rust taste, and a little salt can mask it.

The spores frantically recorded this "unnecessary addition behavior". Yet they could not analyze that, as Lao Zhao added salt, his gaze drifted toward Bridge Space.

He thought of his wife, who never added salt when brewing tea because she could find the best spring water. Now he adds salt because she is not beside him.

This train of thought was not captured by any device, but several spores on the surface of the amber fruit suddenly turned murky—as if some incomprehensible interference disrupted the signal.

In the afternoon, in the Bridge Space kitchen, the red beans had soaked fully. Lao Zhao's wife poured the beans into a pot, added water, and lit the fire. She worked slowly, each motion as if revisiting a ritual.

Three Seran volunteers hovered beside the stove, adjusting the heat with a halo—not with technology, but with the newly learned "feeling": "Like this… like the temperature of the homeworld at dusk." "No, a bit lower, like early morning."

The translucent jellyfish gently stirred the red beans with a tentacle, its frequency full of curiosity: "They are softening… the shape is disappearing… but the aroma is emerging. This is not devouring; devouring makes shape and aroma vanish together."

The wife picked up the withered osmanthus branch, pinched off tiny golden petals with her fingers, and sprinkled them into the pot.

At the moment the osmanthus met the heat, the fragrance exploded outward.

The entire kitchen—and even, via the connection, reaching the purification tower—was enveloped in a warm, sweet fragrance tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

Kevin was analyzing spore data when he suddenly stopped, lifted his glasses: "This scent… my grandmother used to make red‑bean paste buns with osmanthus. She said osmanthus is a 'spice that remembers time'."

He hadn't spoken of his grandmother in a long time.

The monitoring spores collectively turned toward the fragrance source. They attempted to analyze the aroma's molecular structure, volatilization rate, and effects on the brain's limbic system…

What they could not analyze was that the fragrance caused at least eight individuals from different civilizations present to simultaneously recall "a certain important person".

And this simultaneous recollection made a hidden pathway in the emotional network suddenly become unusually stable.

The evaluation escalated to a danger stage by evening.

The Silent Observer seemed uneasy about the "unanalyzable" aspect. It activated the "Deep Analysis Protocol"—beginning to scan the interior of the amber fruit with a high‑energy field, attempting to comprehend how the "anchor point" functions.

At the seventh second of scanning, the fruit suddenly emitted an alarm:

【Detected scanning energy attempting to 'replicate' the anchor point structure】

【Purpose inferred: Silent Observer may be planning to create an 'emotionless version of the anchor point' for comparative experiments】

【Risk: If an emotionless anchor point proves more efficient, the emotional network could be deemed a 'low‑efficiency anomaly' and forcibly restructured】

Worse, the scan triggered a protective mechanism inside the fruit—a segment of encrypted memory automatically unlocked.

The memory scene unfolded:

It was the final footage left by the Sower Ai O.

She stood among the wreckage of a certain star system (not Earth), a scar garden on her chest now fully withered. She said to the void:

"Later ones, if you see this memory, it means the 'emotional anchor point' has matured and is being examined by 'absolute rationality'."

She gave a weary smile:

"I tried to prove the value of emotion to them and failed. So this time, I changed my approach—don't prove it. Let them discover themselves that some questions have no answers without emotion."

She pointed to the stellar wreckage behind her:

"Here once existed a civilization that invented a 'perfect logic system', eradicating all emotion. They spent three thousand years proving maximal efficiency, then in an instant… collectively chose self‑annihilation. Because when everything has an answer, 'why live' becomes the only unsolvable question."

In the final image, Ai Ou's body began to turn translucent:

I hid a problem inside the fruit. When an absolute rationalist tries to replicate the anchor point, this problem will automatically activate. It has no answer, only…… experience. Good luck.

The memory ended.

On the surface of the amber-colored fruit, a line of glowing text appeared——that was the problem left by Ai Ou:

Please calculate: how much 'meaningless time' does a wisp of osmanthus fragrance need to become someone's memory of 'home'?

All monitoring spores crashed simultaneously.

During the thirty seconds when the spores crashed, the world suddenly became unusually quiet.

There was no data stream, no analysis report, only the sound of red beans bubbling in the pot, and the process of osmanthus fragrance slowly settling.

Old Zhao's wife scooped up a bit of red bean paste with a spoon, blew on it, tasted it. She frowned slightly, then added a pinch of sugar.

Then she raised her head and looked toward the communication flower——Old Zhao was looking at her through it.

"Is it sweet enough?" he asked.

"Just right." she said, "as sweet as you used to like."

Old Zhao lowered his gaze, looking at the spore in his tea cup that had turned amber-colored. The spore lay completely still, like an ordinary dew droplet.

He gently touched it: "Hey, are you still analyzing?"

The spore had no response.

But a few seconds later, it suddenly began slowly and clumsily…… imitating the molecular structure of the osmanthus fragrance. Not analysis, but imitation——reforming itself into an extremely tiny crystal that emits a faint osmanthus scent.

Although it was only the size of a dust particle.

Although it lasted only three seconds.

Although this behavior completely contradicted its original programming.

But it was trying.

The spores rebooted one after another. They deleted the records from the crash period, but all the data showed: in that thirty-second blank, the "overall coherence" of the emotional network actually reached an unprecedented peak.

The Silent Observer gave no evaluation. But the assessment report was updated in the late night:

【Assessment Cycle: Day 2/30】

【Newly added undefinable anomalies: 2 items (IDs A-04, A-05)】

【A-04: Monitoring spore cluster-7, under specific fragrance stimulation, exhibited a brief procedural disturbance; during the disturbance it spontaneously carried out 'non-beneficial imitation behavior'】

【A-05: An encrypted legacy was discovered inside the amber-colored fruit, containing an 'illogical solution problem'. This problem triggered a recursive error in the assessment system, consuming computing power equivalent to a star burning for a thousand years, yet no answer has been reached】

【Assessment conclusion revised: The 'anomaly density' of the emotional network exceeds expectations. Yet all anomalies exhibit a 'self-organizing tendency toward stability' characteristic. Intervention procedures will not be activated for now; observation will continue.】

The red bean paste was finished before midnight. The wife scooped the paste out to cool, placing beside it the osmanthus branch that had gone bald.

Old Zhao softly said to the communication flower: "Tomorrow morning, we'll be able to eat red bean buns."

From the other side of the flower came a soft reply: "Mm. I saved the reddest beans for your filling."

The amber-colored fruit floated silently, the line "osmanthus fragrance problem" on its surface having disappeared. But inside it, a new process was beginning——not defense, not proof, but preparation for the next lesson.

Far away, in the depths of the starry sky, inside the mothership of the Silent Observer, an ancient log unit that had never been activated, because of that "illogical solution problem", faintly glowed with the first glimmer of light.

The log title is:

【Memorandum: Early observation records concerning the 'incalculable'——ID: Forgetting-01】