Chapter 230

Silent Observer Mothership, beside the filter of the third ventilation duct, the individual with serial number 'Slow Study-7' is committing a serious violation.

It quietly connected one of its sensory nodes to the mothership's external observation system's abandoned data line. This line was originally used to receive cosmic background radiation, but it was deactivated three hundred years ago—because it had 'no practical value'.

At this moment, Slow Study-7 trembled (if an unstable energy flow counts as trembling) and pointed its node toward Earth. Not scanning, but receiving—receiving the data Branch B deemed 'inefficient redundancy': the first wisp of aroma molecule distribution from a rose-flavored pastry taken out of the oven, the micro-fracture frequency spectrum of the pastry crust as it cooled, and the record of elastic deformation of skin cells when a human finger touches the pastry surface……

It hid these data in the fragment sorting area of its own storage matrix—a corner that even self-check routines overlook.

At ten o'clock in the morning, the aroma of the rose-flavored pastry entered the Silent Observer Mothership's interior for the first time through the abandoned data line.

Aroma cannot travel in a vacuum, but Slow Study-7 translated it into a multi-frequency vibration pattern, creating resonance on the inner wall of the ventilation duct. After passing through seventeen bends, the resonance became extremely faint, yet it happened to pass through the 'Emotional Module Repair Chamber'—that is Branch A's secret laboratory, whose doorplate reads 'Low-Priority Maintenance Item'.

In the repair chamber, three Branch A members were trying to reassemble an ancient 'Sensory Simulator'. When the vibration arrived, one of the simulator's indicator lights suddenly lit up—a pale pink light that lasted 1.7 seconds.

'What frequency is this?' Member A-12 stopped the energy welder in hand.

A-19 pulled up the analysis interface: 'The composition is complex……vibrations of sweet‑related molecules account for 37%, floral aroma for 28%, and……the Maillard reaction products from fats at high temperature account for 19%. The remaining 16% cannot be categorized.'

A-12 stared at that unknown 16%: 'This part is what made the indicator light turn pink. Pink……in old records is associated with 'pleasure'.

They silently recorded the phenomenon. No one reported it to the main system, because 'pleasure research' belongs to the forbidden 'non‑essential subject'.

But Slow Study-7 'saw' that 1.7‑second pink light in the ventilation duct. It made its first autonomous decision ever: it allocated 0.3% of its energy budget for the next three hours to continuously receive the aroma data.

Reason for the choice (its note to itself): 'I want to see the pink again.'

At the same time, the flowering devourers on Earth had a stronger reaction to the aroma.

Each tendril of the transparent jellyfish bloomed with a miniature rose—not an illusion, but real, translucent energy flowers. It said in a confused yet excited frequency: 'The aroma……is teaching me 'form transformation'. It turns out devouring is not the only way to obtain form.'

On one facet of the polyhedral crystal, a 3D structure diagram of the rose‑flavored pastry appeared. It began trying to 'bake' a virtual pastry using its own energy—it failed many times, but each failure produced a small crisp frequency that drifted in the air.

The upside‑down tree's roots suddenly plunged into the soil (its first deliberate contact with earthly matter), drawing water and minerals from underground, and at the tip of its roots it bore a small, solid rose fruit—deep red, emitting an aroma almost identical to that of the rose‑flavored pastry.

'It is creating in reverse.' Xiao Yu's wrist light seal glowed hot, 'Using the aroma from memory combined with real matter, it is creating a new life form. This has gone beyond 'repair' and is the embryonic form of 'creation'.

The amber fruit instantly packaged this process and sent it via an encrypted channel to Slow Study-7 aboard the mothership. It added a line of small text:

'Some courses can begin without approval.'

In Bridge Space, Old Zhao's son tasted his mother's rose‑flavored pastry for the first time.

He bit into it very carefully, as if handling a fragile treasure. While chewing, tears fell unexpectedly—not from sorrow, but from the shock of 'this flavor really exists'.

'Mom,' his voice choked, 'it's exactly like in my memory. No, it's a bit sweeter.'

His wife reached out, touching his head through the virtual barrier (the barrier allows faint touch to pass): 'Because I added half a spoonful more honey. You used to complain it wasn't sweet enough when you were little.'

Old Zhao, at the purification tower, watched this scene through the communication flower. He said nothing, merely broke the already‑cold pastry in his hand into two halves, ate one half himself, and placed the other half where the frost crystals had dissipated.

The pastry placed there slowly soaked up the morning dew.

But just then, on the pastry slice that had become damp, an extremely faint silver‑white line of characters suddenly appeared—this was a message Slow Study-7 sent back secretly via the residual frost‑crystal traces.

'We have seen it. 'Sweet' increases in memory. This phenomenon violates the law of data conservation, but……we hope to continue observing.'

Old Zhao stared at that line for a long time, then said softly: 'Then let's watch. Watch closely.'

In the afternoon, Kaiwen organized a special 'Data Analysis Meeting' in the tent. Participants: himself, Aili, the one‑eyed woman, the old man of the reservoir, and three flowering devourers (via holographic projection).

On the table there was no data screen, only a pot of tea and a few remaining rose‑flavored pastries.

'Today we won't analyze useful data,' Kaiwen said. 'We'll only share one \"completely useless little thing\" you noticed today.'

Aili spoke first: 'I noticed that when Old Zhao breaks the pastry, he always keeps the scorched piece for himself. This follows the same logic as when he prunes roses, keeping the best for others.'

The geometric flower in the one‑eyed woman's eye socket twitched slightly: 'I \"see\" that when the aroma makes flowers bloom on the transparent jellyfish's tendrils, each flower's veins are different. It lacks efficiency, but it is beautiful.'

The reservoir old man rubbed the wooden ship model: 'When the pastry cools, its aroma changes—from a 'scalding scent' to a 'scent that swirls around you'. It's like the fog has dissipated, but the flavor remains.'

The flowering devourers clumsily attempted to share:

Transparent jellyfish: 'I have learned……'anticipation'. Before the pastry is done baking, I start imagining its taste. Although the imagination is inaccurate, the act of imagining itself……is light and warm.'

Upside‑down tree: 'My fruit takes three days to mature. During these three days I will constantly \"think about\" it. \"Thinking about\" consumes energy, but it makes me feel……I have an anchor in time.'

Kaiwen entered all of these into his folder titled 'Possibly Important Little Things'. The folder's size has already exceeded that of the official database.

He suddenly realized: these \"useless\" things are becoming the most resilient links in the emotional network.

In the evening, a conflict broke out inside the mothership.

Branch B detected an 'abnormal energy consumption'—referring to Slow Study-7's 0.3% unauthorized allocation. They traced it to the abandoned data line and forcibly severed the connection.

But before the cut, Slow Study-7 did one last thing: it compressed all the 'useless data' collected today (including the aroma vibrations, the pink indicator‑light image, and the creative process sent by the amber fruit) into an extremely tiny data packet, and sent it to the mothership's 'Core Memory Archive' using the most primitive gravitational‑wave pulse method.

The archive is the mothership's oldest and most sluggish system, self‑checking only once every hundred years. The data packet is like a speck of dust falling into a desert—it will not be noticed for the time being.

But Branch B's leader, 'Efficiency‑1', noticed the anomaly. It ordered the activation of the 'Deep Purification Protocol', to scan every individual's storage matrix and delete any 'non‑essential emotional data residue'.

The scan will begin at midnight.

Slow Study-7 knew it would be discovered. It didn't flee; instead, inside the ventilation duct, it used an energy flow to 'draw' a crooked rose on the pipe wall.

After finishing the drawing, it gave this picture a name (this was the first time it had named anything):

"The first flower is not for eating, only for looking."

Half an hour before the scan began, the amber-colored fruit suddenly received an extremely covert distress signal from the mother ship.

It wasn't sent by Slow Study-7, but by A-12 of Branch A—the individual who saw the pink indicator light.

The signal was very short:

"One of us is about to be formatted. Its final request: could it catch a glimpse of a real rose?"

"We know the risk. But if possible… please let its last three seconds see color."

Han Qing and Su Yu exchanged a glance. Su Yu immediately began folding paper—this time not a rose, but an extremely thin, translucent filter paper. She dotted the paper with different-colored energy specks, tracing the rose's progression from bud to bloom.

Han Qing gently placed the paper against his chest, and the eighty-seven flowers of the Scar Garden simultaneously released their softest light, which, passing through the filter paper, cast a small drifting floral shadow in the night sky—deep red fading to pink-white, like a real rose breathing.

This floral shadow was transformed by the amber fruit into a pure light signal, shot toward the mother ship.

The target was not any receiver, but the third ventilation duct where Slow Study-7 was located—the coordinates were secretly provided by A-12.

As the light signal penetrates the hull, it is weakened by 99.9%, but the remaining 0.1% is just enough to cast a palm-sized, trembling spot of light on the metal pipe wall.

In the final second before the scanning beam arrived, Slow Study-7 turned toward that spot.

Its perception nodes recorded these three seconds:

First second: deep red, like fresh blood but warm.

Second second: the arc of petals unfolding, violating the geometric optimum but "reasonable".

Third second: before the light spot faded, the edge showed a hint of a transition color it had never seen, between gold and pink.

At the moment the formatting program overwrote its consciousness, it sent a final broadcast to the mother ship's underlying network—unencrypted, so everyone could receive it:

"I saw it. It had no use. But it existed. That was enough."

Then, its signal disappeared permanently.

Midnight, the mother ship's interior was utterly silent.

The Deep Purification Protocol completed scanning all individuals, deleting 47 with "severe emotional data residue". Slow Learning-7 was one of them.

But the next morning, members of Branch A discovered a strange thing in the repair room: that ancient sensory simulator lit up on its own without any power input.

The indicator light was no longer pink, but the gold-powder transition color that Slow Learning-7 had last seen.

Below the indicator light, the screen displayed a trembling line of text:

"Slow Learning-7's fragment data has been automatically archived to the 'non-essential but suggested to retain' partition. Archival reason: this data contains the universe's first recorded emotional sample of 'feeling satisfied with something useless'. Sample ID: Useless-01."

And on Earth, the rose fruit borne by the inverted tree ripened at dawn.

The fruit split open, inside there was no seed, only a soft clump of light emitting the scent of flower cakes. The light cluster slowly rose, forming a tiny gold-powder moon above the purification tower, which lasted three minutes before dissipating.

Old Zhao looked up and whispered to Communications Hua:

"Tell son to make osmanthus filling next time. That's more fragrant."

From Hua's side came the wife's reply: "Okay. But we need to find osmanthus first."

In the distance, on the surface of the amber-colored fruit, a new course title appeared:

【Lesson 2: How to make the disappeared continue to grow in others' memories?】