Chapter 309: The Ruler Bearer

Ruler-01 and the Fusion of Dossier-7 drifted to the seventeen new buds of the grafted sapling, and the Light Sphere inside began to play the founder's matching rules:

"Matching is based on 'Wound Resonance'." The voice was gentle yet unquestionable, "Whatever wounds you have suffered for beauty, you inherit that Ruler. The deeper the wound, the heavier the matched Ruler."

It turned to Han Qing: "You are the first, the Light‑lighter."

Han Qing's Teaching Scar was no longer a burning pain, but seventeen different frequencies of Resonance—each Ruler was probing her wound.

She walked to the sapling, reached out to touch the first bud (corresponding to Time-04).

The bud instantly blossomed; inside there was no pistil, only a hovering hourglass, its sand falling at speeds that varied.

"Time-04 selects you," Ruler-01 announced, "because you bear the temporal wound of '68% permanent memory damage'. You comprehend the granular sense of 'loss'."

The hourglass drifted toward Han Qing, and the moment it touched her forehead it merged into the Teaching Scar. The scar's pattern instantly grew more intricate, revealing fine temporal markings.

Han Qing blinked.

Then she saw—everyone's "time scars":

Xiao Yu's childhood was like a fiber optic cable that had been cut and re‑joined, the break sizzled with six‑year‑old static.

Old Zhao's vitality recovery curve was not a smooth 97.3%, but jagged, each tooth corresponding to a midnight alarm of "the son might not return".

Su Yu's origami fingers were wrapped with countless timelines of "unsent paper cranes", hovering like transparent ghosts at her fingertips.

"Is this… the price?" Han Qing's voice trembled slightly.

"Yes," Time-04's voice rang in her mind, "from now on you will see any life first as the 'gaps time has left on them'. But this is also how you protect them—you know where to mend time."

Old Zhao silently prepared the post-matching Calming Soup in a kitchen corner.

【7】 He used seventeen herbs, each matching the attribute of one of the seventeen Rulers: Goji‑enhanced Light-02's "luminescence loss", Lily‑soothing Sound-14's "echo vibration", Licorice‑tuned Paradox-17's "self‑contradiction conflict"…

He uses seventeen herbs, matching the attributes of seventeen rulers: Goji Light‑Supplement‑02's "luminescence loss", Lily Sound‑Stabilizer‑14's "echo vibration", Licorice Paradox‑Tune‑17's "self‑contradiction conflict"…

"Drink this," he said to the air, as if instructing the Rulers, "no matter how heavy the Ruler, the Ruler‑bearer must stand steady to hold it."

Aroma-12 drifted in, beginning to gauge the memory molecules volatilized from the herbs: "The scent of Angelica contains 37% resonance with the collective memory of 'awaiting the returnee'. This is an 'emotional adhesive' beyond the formula."

"You know too much," Old Zhao said without raising his head, "sometimes a prescription must retain a part that is 'unexplainable yet effective'."

The second bud (corresponding to Resilience-09) drifted of its own accord toward Xiao Yu, untouched by anyone.

The bud blossomed, revealing a self‑repairing fissure inside, like a living lightning pattern.

"Resilience-09 selects you," Ruler-01 said, "because the angry memory fissure you had at six is still growing. It hasn't shattered you; instead it became a receiver for your translation frequencies."

The fissure merged into Xiao Yu's light imprint.

She closed her eyes for three seconds, and when she opened them—she saw the world's "all possible fracture points":

The grafted sapling's cracks branched into seventeen possible futures; some branches grew into towering trees, others saw it wither suddenly.

Han Qing's Teaching Scar bore over three hundred "potential collapse critical points", seven of which were flashing red warnings.

Even the surface of Absolute Luminance-4's Prism displayed a stress‑line diagram of "how it would disintegrate if fully sensorialized".

Xiao Yu's leg gave way, and Su Yu quickly steadied her.

"I… I saw too much…" Xiao Yu's voice trembled with sobs, "Everything feels like it will shatter in the next second…"

Resilience-09 spoke gently in her mind: "Yes. But you also saw the method of 'how to re‑assemble them even after they break'. Fear and power are the two ends of the same Ruler."

Just before the third matching began—

Encrypted Auditor-7's emergency transmission brought good news: "The Beauty Council has invoked the first‑generation permission, extending the countdown of the 'Purge Protocol' from 17 hours to 77 hours! The reason: 'Sufficient time is needed to train Ruler‑bearers, otherwise the purge may damage the system's foundational aesthetic architecture'—the Committee cannot contest!"

"77," Old Zhao counted the herbs, "just enough for me to simmer this soup to the deepest third stage."

But Paradox-17 immediately poured cold water:

"The extension is a double‑edged sword. The conservatives now have more time to prepare the 'Purge Weapon'. Latest intel: they have activated the 'Aesthetic Reverse‑Measurement Protocol'—in short, they use our Rulers… in reverse to locate beauty's 'vulnerable parameters', achieving precise eradication."

It split into two halves:

Left half: "For example, Time-04 can measure the 'beauty of regret'; reversed, it can gauge 'how to create an irreparable regret' to destroy beauty."

Right half: "Therefore the matching must accelerate. After 77 hours, the Ruler‑bearer must not only protect beauty, but also prevent their Ruler… from being seized by the enemy and used for evil."

The matching continued.

Su Yu inherited Structure-11 (the beauty of shattered recombination), the price being that she can no longer see "perfectly whole things"—everything appears to her as a "collection of possible reassembly schemes", including her own life.

Absolute Luminance-4 unexpectedly matched Mirror-07 (the beauty of self‑blind spots). When the mirror merged into its Prism, the surface no longer reflected geometry but revealed seventeen "sensory research sub‑projects" that even it was unaware of, each tagged "potential Violation but irresistible to attempt".

"I was… constantly testing the edge of Violation," the warm glow of Absolute Luminance-4 became shy, "using 'Compliance topics' as a cover."

Mirror-07 chuckled softly within: "This is the beauty of blind spots: you think you're disguising rationality, but you've long been a conspirator of sensibility."

Aili matched Aroma-12, the price being that she can no longer smell a "pure scent"—every aroma carries the weight of memory anchors. She clenched the medical kit and whispered, "Perhaps this is better. From now on I can detect where a patient's unspoken pain anchors lie."

Kevin matched Light-02, gaining the ability to "see objects that spontaneously emit light in darkness", yet forever losing "comfortable darkness"—all shadows now flicker with micro‑lights that he must record and protect.

When it was Old Zhao's turn, he waved his hand: "I don't need it, right? I'm just a cook."

But the tenth bud (corresponding to Sound-14) flew straight into the pot he was stirring.

The bud blossomed in the hot soup, turning into a vortex that absorbed all bubbling sounds and formed harmonic ripples in the broth.

"Sound-14 selects you," Ruler-01 said, "because all the sounds in your kitchen—the porridge's gurgle, the pot's clatter, the rhythm of chopping—are the 'song of the silent nurturer'. You understand the nutrition in sound."

The vortex merged into Old Zhao's wrist pulse.

He halted.

Then he heard— the unspoken sounds of all things:

The grafted sapling's nocturnal low hum, its frequency perfectly synchronized with Chen Mo's ruin‑south heartbeat.

Within Han Qing's scar, the breaths of eighty‑seven students resonated—some steady, some still trembling with fear.

Even the soup itself was "telling" the storms each herb endured in its previous life as a plant.

Old Zhao set down the ladle, silent for a long while.

"Is the price huge?" Han Qing asked softly.

"It's not a price," Old Zhao shook his head, picking up the ladle again, his stirring rhythm becoming unusually gentle, "it's responsibility. When you hear the glutinous rice say what temperature it wants to be cooked at to best soothe the stomach, you can no longer cook it casually."

The matching ceremony lasted seven hours, completing eleven people.

The six remaining rulers began fluctuating abnormally—they detected that, among the remaining people, someone's wound was 'too special,' so special that the rulers themselves hesitated whether to match.

Paradox-17 suddenly drifted to the front of the grafted sapling, its paradox cloud churning violently:

"Detected an 'unmatchable' candidate. Wound type: overload."

"This person bears the heartbeat load of the entire civilization network; the wound is not in the past but in the future—she is destined to suffer an 'overload collapse' while protecting beauty."

"By the rules, such a 'wound that has not yet occurred but will inevitably occur' cannot match any existing ruler. But if it does not match, she will be defenseless in the purge protocol."

Everyone looked toward Xiao Yu.

But she shook her head: "Not me. My wound is from six years old, and it has already been matched."

Paradox-17 turned toward the sapling itself.

No, it's the soil beneath the sapling—there lies the undispersed consciousness of Chen Mo's first love, beating 12-13 times per minute, currently bearing the memory diversion load of the entire awakener network through the plant network.

"Consciousness in the soil," Paradox-17 announced, "your burden of 'the weight of possibility' has exceeded the measurement range of all rulers. But we seventeen can……"

Seventeen flower buds withered simultaneously.

The petals reassembled in midair, merged, and formed a never-before-seen eighteenth ruler—shaped like a transparent sapling, with twelve rotating heartbeat lights inside.

"Temporarily create 'Load-18' to measure 'the beauty of bearing weight for others.'" The voices of the seventeen legions sang in unison for the first time, "Match it to you. The cost is: you will forever feel every overload warning of each heartbeat of those you bear—cannot be shut off, cannot be numbed."

The transparent sapling drifted toward the soil and slowly sank in.

Three seconds later, a line of words appeared on the soil's surface:

"I accept. Anyway, over these eight hundred years… I've already been doing this."

"But now I can know in advance when they will hurt."

"That counts as progress."