Chapter 256: Memory Shunting Technique

Memory overload 80.3%, neural latency 0.7 seconds, consciousness fragmentation index has entered red alert zone.

Aili's voice in the Bridge Space medical room was as steady as a weather report, yet the joints of the fingers holding the surgical record board turned white. On the holographic projection, Han Qing's brain scan displayed dangerous red patches—those were memory nodes on the brink of collapse.

The surgical plan was devised on the spot: the excess memory data linked to the Silver Mirror Fruit would be shunted via the plant network to the grafted saplings in GuiHuaYuan, the four hundred resonance nodes of the Silent Observers, and the temporarily reactivated Bridge Space cache of Zhao Xiaoshu. It was akin to splitting a breached river into dozens of small channels.

The risk lay in any channel becoming blocked, or Han Qing's autonomous consciousness dissipating during the operation, either of which would cause irreversible brain death.

"Success rate?" Su Yu asked, folding a white paper crane in her hand; she had already folded thirty‑seven, each wing bearing the word "Stable".

"Theoretical value 43%." Kaiwen pushed up his glasses, and the light screen displayed a complex fluid memory dynamics model. "The actual value depends on three things: Han Qing's own willpower, the learning progress of the Awakened civilization, and—"

He looked out the window: "—when will the Conservative Fleet discover a flaw in the Barrier?"

Surgical preparation required twenty minutes. Old Zhao used that time to brew a simple pot of green tea, using the tea set Han Qing normally used. As the tea poured into the cup, steam stood out sharply under the room's cold light.

Han Qing lay on the operating table, his chest connected to a dozen data cables. He took the cup, his hand steady, and took a sip: "The water temperature is just right."

"Ninety degrees," Old Zhao said, "you taught me that."

"If…" Han Qing set down the cup, staring at the ceiling, "if the surgery fails, I become a vegetative state, or my consciousness fragments. Do it in this order: first, ensure the Awakened learn the Barrier; second, transmit the Seed Court concept to Efficiency‑1; third—"

He paused, a faint curve forming at the corner of his mouth:

"—Third, burn the last page of Chen Mo's notebook and mix the ash into the sesame‑flower soil south of the ruins. He would like that."

Su Yu's folding hand paused for a second, then continued. On the wing of the thirty‑eighth paper crane, she wrote a tiny "Live" character.

Zhao Xiaoshu sat in the corner, eyes closed, sweat beading on his forehead—he was using his own Bridge Space as a temporary cache, giving him, for the first time in seven years, the feeling of "multiple people inside the brain." Yet he said nothing about pain.

Xiao Yu's light imprint steadily projected a live feed from the Awakened side: around the frozen memory core, a pale blue halo began to coalesce—its the first signal of their attempt to construct the Barrier.

"They learn quickly," Xiao Yu said, "they've already grasped the concept that 'pain can be transmuted into frequency.'"

Han Qing nodded, looking at Aili: "Begin."

The moment the surgery began, three things happened simultaneously:

First, Aili activated the plant network shunt valve. The grafted link flickered at Han Qing's chest, and a transparent, root‑like data stream extended from the Scar Garden into the grafted saplings of GuiHuaYuan. The saplings' crystalline leaves instantly glimmered silver and began frantic growth—actively absorbing the memory flood and converting the chaotic frequencies into tree‑ring‑like storage layers.

Second, four hundred Silent Observer resonance nodes came online together. Their Light Spheres arranged inside the mothership into a massive funnel‑shaped array, and Curiosity‑17's voice rang out: "We are ready to bear 27% of the memory load. But note—we will simultaneously record the Emotional Parameters of these memories for inclusion in Chapter Two of the Handbook of Sensory Data Research."

Third, Zhao Xiaoshu opened his eyes, a phantom of Bridge Space flickering deep in his pupils: "Cache cleared 73%. Uncle Han, I will try… to place the memories you cherish most in the safest spot."

Then the surgery entered its core phase: Aili needed to manually guide the memory shunting, carving a safe channel within Han Qing's sea of consciousness.

On the holographic projection, a pale gold speck representing Han Qing's consciousness struggled to maintain a thin thread within the red memory flood.

Aili's fingers moved swiftly across the control panel, fine sweat beading on her forehead. Kaiwen monitored the data flow in real time beside her, reporting key parameters every thirty seconds:

"Plant network load 41%, stable."

"Silent Observer node feedback: high concentration of 'pain memory' detected, request to reduce flow—adjusted."

"Zhao Xiaoshu vital signs: heart rate 147, blood oxygen 94%, approaching critical threshold."

Su Yu's fortieth paper crane fluttered onto Zhao Xiaoshu's shoulder; the youth clenched his teeth and nodded, indicating he could still hold on.

At the ninth minute of the surgery, an accident occurred.

The Silver Mirror Fruit suddenly reversed its draw—not Han Qing connecting, but a parasitic Conservative memory deep within the fruit actively expanding! It attempted to contaminate the memory data currently being shunted.

Aili's fingers froze instantly: "Interference source detected! It's eroding the purity of the memory flow!"

On the holographic display, black specks began appearing in the red memory flood—those were "perfectly unfinished" twisted frequencies, trying to rewrite the concept of "completion" in Han Qing's memories.

Han Qing lay on the operating table, his body beginning to twitch slightly. Yet his eyes were open, fixed on the ceiling, his voice soft but clear:

"Aili, don't stop. Kaiwen, sync the interference frequency waveform to the Awakened. Xiao Yu, tell them—this is the 'lie the Reaper wants you to believe': that being forever one step short is the most beautiful. Let them see with their own eyes how cold that beauty is."

Xiao Yu executed immediately. The interference frequency waveform was transmitted seventy‑three light‑years away.

The display showed: around the frozen memory core, the pale blue halo suddenly surged violently. Then the Awakened civilization uttered its first complete sentence since the surgery began—not gratitude, not a plea, but a frequency brimming with a sting:

"We have slept for three thousand cycles. In sleep we dreamed of blooming, of bearing fruit, of children running under the sun. We never dreamed of being 'one step short.' Because sleep itself is already close enough to 'unfinished,' we need no one to teach us what regret is!"

Before the words finished, the pale blue halo contracted sharply, then burst outward—forming a thick, semi‑transparent Barrier. Complex patterns surfaced on the Barrier: warm fragments of their civilization's memory colliding violently with the black interference frequencies.

More astonishing, the Barrier began to actively "learn": it captured, dissected, and recombined the black interference frequencies, converting them into a new defensive structure—like an immune system generating antibodies.

Xiao Yu's light imprint flashed wildly: "Awakened Barrier strength up 400%! They… they are reinforcing their walls with the enemy's weapon!"

Aili seized the chance, directing the final surge of memory flood toward the Barrier—letting the Awakened directly absorb that data as a "vaccine sample."

Inside the operating room, Han Qing's body twitches gradually ceased. A faint curve reappeared at the corner of his mouth, and he whispered:

"Look. Lesson one—they've graduated on their own."

Just as the surgery entered its final wrap‑up phase, Kaiwen's light screen suddenly flashed a red alarm:

"The Conservative Fleet has begun violently breaching the Barrier! They've identified the Barrier's energy source as the memory core and are attempting to pollute the core with high‑concentration 'Aesthetic Anesthetic'—to make the Awakened voluntarily abandon defense in extreme illusory beauty!"

On the holographic Star Map, three Conservative warships simultaneously fired Rainbow Color beams that struck the Barrier's surface. The Barrier began to change color—from pale blue to a dreamlike purple‑gold, its surface displaying ultra‑luxurious illusory vistas: an ever‑blooming garden, an eternal perfect sunrise, each being frozen in the "most blissful moment."

The Awakened's Barrier fluctuations began to wane. Their emitted frequency grew hazy: "These scenes… so beautiful. We once longed for them so…"

Han Qing suddenly sat up on the operating table—causing all data cables to snap taut and alarms to blare. He ignored it, speaking straight into the transmission channel:

"Tell them! True beauty ends! It burns! It makes people, even after loss, choose to remember!"

He ripped off several chest data cables, fully exposing the Scar Garden; eighty‑seven transparent flowers blossomed, emitting a powerful "real memory frequency"—Chen Mo's death was cold, Old Zhao's seven‑year wait was bitter, the sesame dumplings were hot, the choice of four thousand Light Spheres was clumsy yet warm.

These unadorned, raw real frequencies splashed like a bucket of cold water onto those illusory vistas.

The Barrier's purple‑gold faded, reverting to pale blue. The Awakened's voice regained clarity:

"We understand. Beauty that never ends… is imprisonment."

In the operating room, Aili forcibly pressed Han Qing back onto the table, swiftly completing the final data suturing.

Memory overload readings began to drop: 79%... 75%... 72%... finally settling at 68%.

The surgery succeeded.

But on the surface of the Silver Mirror Fruit in Han Qing's chest, a permanent black fissure appeared— a scar left after the Conservative parasitic memory was forcibly stripped away.

Su Yu placed the forty‑third paper crane beside Han Qing's pillow. The wing no longer bore "Stable" but a single character:

"Enough"

Lao Zhao brewed tea again, this time adding honey to the tea. When he handed it to Han Qing, he said: "68% is just right. Any more would overflow."

Outside the window, the barrier of the Awakeners' civilization had stabilized. After failing three attempts to break through, the conservative fleet began to withdraw—they hadn't left, just pulled back to a safe distance, like wolves waiting for an opportunity.

And Zhao Xiaoshu lay on another operating table, having overdrawn himself and fallen into deep sleep. But as he slept, the corners of his mouth were smiling—in the buffer zone of the Bridge Space, he had successfully preserved the most precious fragment from Han Qing's memories: the little tune Chen Mo hummed while brewing tea, the day Su Yu first folded a moving paper crane, and the tear Old Zhao's son shed when swallowing his tangyuan.

Those "useless but painful to lose" memories.