Chapter 257: The Carefree Seed

When the promotional video of the "Worry‑Free Seed" first appeared on the Silent Observer Network public channel, Xiao Yu was recording the language‑learning progress of the Awakened Civilization. A Light Mark suddenly popped up a high‑priority window: the picture was a perfect sunset that would never set; the music was a melody so gentle it made people forget to breathe, looping without any rise or fall.

The title is: "Tired for thirty thousand years? Plant this seed, and from then on only remember beauty."

Below the video is the product description: a seed cultivated via memory‑editing technology; once planted it creates a "Worry‑Free Realm" where every being experiences only the most relaxed, most pleasant Emotional Frequency, automatically filtering out pain, anxiety, regret and other "negative data."

The spread expanded exponentially. Within twenty‑four hours, more than three hundred medium‑sized civilizations had already queried the "ordering method."

Lao Zhao brewed this year's new tea—the first batch of tea‑tree leaves trial‑grown in the ruin greenhouse—still tasting green and raw. Within the tea aroma mixed the sound of data streams constantly refreshing on Kaiwen's screen:

"The 'Worry‑Free Seed' civilization distribution map shows: most inquirers are civilizations that have undergone major trauma or have been under survival pressure for a long time. The three strongest selling points are: 1. permanently erasing psychological pain memories; 2. providing customized perfect happiness; 3. achieving aesthetic satisfaction without effort."

Su Yu folded a complex paper cage, each cell tiny as a needle's eye. "They're selling prisons," she whispered, "and wrapping them as gifts."

Han Qing watched the tea leaves bobbing in the cup; the black fissure in the scar‑garden on his chest warmed slightly—a instinctive reaction to twisted frequencies. His memory‑processing capacity had permanently dropped to 68%; now understanding complex issues takes more time, but some intuition has become sharper.

"They've hit the real pain point," he said slowly, "it's not 'beauty or not,' it's 'tired or not.' What we teach—pain, perseverance, imperfect completion—requires energy. And many civilizations… have run out of strength."

Aili pulled a small vial from the medical pack, not a drug but peppermint oil. She dabbed a bit on her temple: "Today seven civilizations sent a polite inquiry via the plant network: does the 'Pain School' consider offering a 'Relaxed Course'? They said… the children are learning too hard."

Zhao Xiaoshu was still in recovery, his complexion improved a bit, but his eyes held a hint of bewilderment. He stared at the "Worry‑Free Seed" promo image and suddenly said, "If that sunset never sets, does the concept of 'tomorrow' still exist?"

Just as the tea gathering grew tense, Xiao Yu's Light Mark lit up—the Awakened Civilization had proactively sent a communication request.

After connecting, what appeared was not thanks but a recording in Earth language that had just been learned and was still a bit halting:

"We watched the 'Worry‑Free Seed' advertisement. After collective discussion, we decided not to purchase. Reasons are as follows—"

A holographic screen unfolded: the Awakened Civilization used the surface of a newly constructed barrier as a display, playing their self‑made "response video":

The footage began with a frozen memory core, then quickly flashed back fragments of dreams from their three‑thousand‑year slumber—some warm, some cold; some joyful, some sorrowful. It ended with the frame frozen on a sprouting "Pain Barrier Seed," with text appearing beside it:

"We chose to remember everything. Because forgetting the cold would also mean forgetting the warm. Choosing ease equals choosing not to choose anymore. Thank you, Earth teacher, for teaching us—it's a bit scorching, but real."

The video ended. The Awakened Civilization added a frequency: "This was made with the newly learned 'seventh word': 'real.' Though scorching, we like it."

The tea gathering fell silent for a few seconds.

Lao Zhao poured tea into the empty cup, whispering, "This student… has not been taught in vain."

The Light Sphere of Efficiency‑1 connected at that moment, its color a puzzled pale yellow: "Within the Silent Observer Network, 12.7% of entities expressed interest in the 'Worry‑Free Seed.' We conducted sampled interviews; the reasons are summarized as follows—"

It played several anonymous recordings:

"I've been calculating the mothership's energy allocation for three hundred years. Every day is the optimal solution, perfect, but exhausting. I want a place where 'not needing the optimal solution' is okay."

"My database contains death records of four thousand civilizations. Each retrieval makes me simulate their pain for three seconds, as required by the 'Empathy Research Manual.' But three seconds accumulated over three hundred years… I kind of want to try what 'non‑empathy' feels like."

"I've drawn thirty‑thousand crooked circles, but lately I feel… drawing a perfect circle might not be bad either?"

Efficiency‑1 summarized: "The issue isn't that the 'Worry‑Free Seed' is overly attractive; it's that what we teach truly… tiresome. After the aesthetic reform, the average energy consumption of individuals in the Sensory Data Division rose by 19%, innovation output increased but fatigue rose in tandem. We need to answer a fundamental question: why choose to keep tiring when already tired?"

Han Qing set down his cup, fingers lightly tapping the tabletop—a new habit he adopted to aid thinking after his memory was damaged.

"Because what they're selling isn't 'beauty.'" he finally said, "it's 'rest.' Rest itself isn't wrong. What's wrong is they claim 'rest can become a permanent state.'"

He looked at Su Yu: "We need to make our own 'advertisement.' Not attacking them, just showing… what comes after exhaustion."

At that moment, GuiHuaYuan's newborn civilization sent an invitation: "We have completed the first growth cycle, today is 'Day Seven.' We want to showcase what we've learned, may we come as guests?"

When they passed through the Rift Gate, everyone froze in shock.

GuiHuaYuan was no longer pure silence. The newborn civilization wove frequencies into a "visual projection of sound"—sounds they had never truly heard but understood through Earth teaching: the rustle of wind through leaves rendered as silver ripples, the patter of rain as pale‑blue light dots, children's laughter as leaping golden particles.

Yun Ai stood amid a newly grown "sound forest," her semi‑corporeal body now stable, the leaf‑vein pulse in her chest slow and strong. She spoke in the newly learned Earth language (though with a strange accent): "We spent seven days learning seven words: bright, warm, real, complete, pain, remember, gratitude. Today we want to showcase… 'gratitude.'"

She raised her hand, and all newborn civilization entities released frequencies simultaneously.

Those frequencies interwove in the air, forming a massive holographic image: within it were each member of the Earth team's "teaching moments."

Han Qing's chest scar‑garden's first blooming moment.

Su Yu's gentle finger movements while teaching them to fold paper cranes.

Lao Zhao's steady arc of water flow while brewing tea.

Aili's focused gaze while injecting a stabilizer.

Kaiwen's data flow as he pushes his glasses.

Xiao Yu's forehead Light Mark flickering while translating frequencies.

Zhao Xiaoshu's strained expression as he uses the Bridge Eye to help them locate a "frequency anchor."

Each frame carries a brief frequency caption: "In this moment, we learned ______."

The final image converged into a line of text formed by light dots:

"Thank you for not giving us an easy answer. Because the sweetness after exhaustion is more memorable."

Su Yu suddenly turned away. Han Qing saw her shoulder tremble slightly, then quickly settle.

Lao Zhao pulled a small cloth bag from his chest—inside was the last bit of real sesame. He walked up to Yun Ai and handed it to her: "Celebration needs sweetness."

Mid‑celebration, Xiao Yu's Light Mark suddenly emitted a sharp alarm.

"Detected anomalous frequency contamination! An inducement signal of the 'Worry‑Free Seed' has appeared in the peripheral zone of GuiHuaYuan! Some newborn civilization entities are attracted, detaching from the collective frequency network!"

The scene switched: at GuiHuaYuan's edge, three relatively young newborn entities moved toward a glowing "Worry‑Free Portal." From within came a promise gentle to the point of eerie: "Come here, never tired, forever happy."

Yun Ai immediately tried to pull them back with collective frequency, but failed—the three entities' gazes began to drift, as if hypnotized.

Han Qing's black fissure on his chest suddenly flared intensely. He realized: the conservatives were testing the targeted effect of the "Worry‑Free Seed" on civilizations learning "pain aesthetics." If successful, they'd prove that "relaxed aesthetics" have broader appeal.

He took a step forward, but Aili grabbed him: "Your memory state can no longer endure confrontation—"

"No need to confront," Han Qing said. He walked to the three lost entities, released no frequency, and did only one thing:

He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the scar‑garden on his chest and the permanent black fissure.

Then he calmly said, "This fissure was left when someone last tried to give me a 'relaxed answer.' They wanted me to forget pain, but forgetting pain would also make me forget why this scar exists."

He pointed to the oldest translucent flower in the scar‑garden: "This one was left by a man named Chen Mo. He died, I remember. Remembering hurts, but remembering lets me know… if someone next tries to die for me, I will fight desperately to stop them."

He then pointed to the newest fruit: "This one formed when you learned 'real' seven days ago. It's scorching, but it exists."

The three lost entities' gazes began to focus.

Han Qing concluded, "Ease is beautiful. But choosing ease means choosing no new scars, no new blossoms. You've only just learned to bloom for seven days… are you sure you want to stop at day seven?"

The youngest individual suddenly burst into tears—not real tears, but a violent fluctuation in frequency. He turned and dove back into the collective network, and the other two followed.

"Carefree Entrance" flickered a few times, then disappeared.

But Xiao Yu's alarm didn't stop: "Pollution source has shifted! It's now appearing at the edge of the Awakened Civilization! They're trying to lure those who have just learned to feel 'pain' with 'Customized Carefree Dream'!"

On the way back, Su Yu folded a black paper crane—the material was printed paper from the promotional video of the "Carefree Seed". She wrote a few small words on its wings:

"All promises of eternity are loans. The interest is forgetting how to count days."

Han Qing looked at the paper crane and said softly: "We need to make an advertisement. The content is simple—"

He gazed out the window into the depths of space, where countless civilizations were hesitating between "tired" and "easy".

"Just say: hot tea will cool, but cooled tea can be reheated. And tea that never cools……drinking too much of it will make you forget what 'thirst' is."