Chapter 228: World Order Shifts

On the seventh day after the global cruise ended, the world order began to undergo substantive changes.

First on the military front, seventeen countries, via diplomatic channels, inquired about the possibility of importing fusion energy technology—obviously only the civilian version.

Longguo's Ministry of Foreign Affairs responded uniformly: "Technical cooperation must be conducted within the Clean Energy Alliance framework and pass strict safety reviews."

The subtext: Want a free ride? No way.

Over in Eagle Country, the Aries plan was indefinitely shelved by Congress after three consecutive expert hearings, on the grounds of budget overruns and a lagging technical roadmap.

Project leader General Ke Er retired early, citing "health reasons."

On social media, someone resurfaced his video from a week ago shouting at Penglai in the East Sea, captioned: "From showcasing the future to lagging behind, it's only a Penglai away."

Gaolu and Hans quietly withdrew the joint proposal to develop the Europa Aerospace Platform, instead proposing cooperation with Longguo on Moon Base construction.

They kept a low profile, even revising the wording of the cooperation memorandum three times.

"They finally see reality. But we must guard against their covert moves; many Confluence members are still in Europe," Lei Jindong said in an internal meeting.

The economic shift was even more direct: the Clean Energy Alliance led by Longguo swelled from the initial thirty‑seven members to eighty‑nine.

Most of the newcomers are Middle Eastern oil‑producing nations, and they know better than anyone that the oil era is truly ending.

International oil prices plunged 15% in a single day on the third day after Penglai's return.

A television analyst said in despair, "This isn't market volatility; it's a paradigm shift."

"Fusion energy isn't like electricity, merely a substitute for oil; it is the ultimate form of energy, because it is virtually limitless."

But Longguo is clever; it didn't topple the entire energy system in one go.

Zhao Kaiyuan's team released the civilian fusion battery "Xuanming‑2," with a pricing strategy aimed at gradually replacing the energy market:

The first batch will be supplied to remote regions, islands, and research stations, solving their power woes.

As for overhauling the grids of major cities?

Take it slow—wait for the industry chain to mature, for employment shifts, for the world to adapt.

"Warm‑water boiling the frog, gradual replacement," Zhao Kaiyuan wrote in an internal report.

In space, the Guanghan Palace Moon Base has completed Phase One, capable of housing twelve people for long‑term stay.

Zhao Gong, via holographic projection, guided the lunar robot in installing the base's plaque.

He hand‑carved the plaque from sintered lunar‑soil ceramic, with the three seal‑script characters "Guanghan Palace" laser‑etched.

"I never thought I'd still get to leave a word on the Moon in this lifetime," Zhao Gong laughed over the comms, then coughed while still chuckling.

"It's just that the moon dust is so irritating."

In the ground control center, young engineers watched the footage of the slightly clumsy elder in low gravity, their eyes growing a bit misty.

The design of "Penglai‑2" has officially kicked off.

Li Yang has already drafted the first sketch, longer than Penglai, reaching 450 meters;

The hull is more streamlined, suited for deep‑space travel;

Most importantly, the energy system reserves a antimatter interface.

"Although current antimatter production is still measured in single atoms," Zhao Kaiyuan said.

"But we keep the slot, just in case."

Wang Hao scratched his head, then brightened: "I'll apply to install a swimming pool on Penglai‑2! Interstellar voyages last months; we can't just run on a treadmill every day, can we?"

Chen Guang adjusted his glasses: "In deep‑space conditions, liquid surface tension fails; swimming would turn into flailing inside a floating water sphere."

"Moreover, water is a precious resource; not advisable."

"Then a virtual‑reality game room should be fine?"

"That one works."

Based on Penglai technology, Lingxiao Aerospace Travel Company was officially founded, and its inaugural tickets sold out within thirty seconds of release.

The route runs from the Northwest launch site to the Deep Sea Dragon Palace Space Station, circles Earth three times, stays two nights, then returns to the surface.

You ask the price?

Eight hundred eighty‑eight thousand eight.

That's it, though scalpers have flipped them for three million.

Among Lao Wu's regular barbecue patrons, a programmer snagged a ticket and treated everyone at the stall to celebrate.

Lao Wu used a robotic arm to grill thirty large kidney‑shaped skewers for him: "Go up and see if the stars are truly brighter than the charcoal down here."

The programmer pounded his chest: "Absolutely! I still plan to eat instant noodles on the station!"

"Ambitious!" the crowd laughed.

Confluence at this moment also achieved a breakthrough, beginning with an internal split within the Confluence organization.

Three core members suddenly, via encrypted channels, defected to Longguo's intelligence, supplying the locations of seventeen safe houses and the keys to four encrypted communication systems.

And—most importantly—records of financial transactions between Confluence and a certain political figure nicknamed Jiaobenchiji.

"They're in internal conflict; some believe the organization has become a tool for great‑power games, losing its original 'open‑source technology' ethos."

"The other faction seeks to seize power amid the chaos, using very radical means," Chen Guang analyzed the defectors' motives.

Lei Jindong instructed: "Foster division, pit one faction against another. Protect the defectors, grant them new identities. The radicals… just wait for them to surface."

Then came the previously detected deep‑space signal; Torch Dragon‑3's quantum fusion system completed its final calibration at 3 a. m. and went live.

The first task with computing power ten thousand times the old version was to re‑decode those signals originating beyond Mars orbit.

This time, the decoded data were no longer geometric patterns.

Instead, a continuously growing count.

1, 2, 3… counting up to 187, then looping.

Zhao Kaiyuan stared at the screen: "It looks like a countdown. But what's the unit—seconds? Minutes? Days? If it's days, what comes after 187 days?"

No one knows.

What's even stranger is, after completing decryption, Torch Dragon-3 autonomously generated an analysis report.

At the end of the report there was a line:

"Suggestion: Establish a dialogue protocol with them. They may not be enemies."

Chen Guang stared at that line, silent for a long time.

He pulled up Torch Dragon-3's system logs and found that this quantum AI had autonomously performed seventeen unauthorized computations in the past seventy-two hours.

The questions included: "If the signal comes from non‑carbon‑based life, how might their ethical system be constructed?"

"Does faster‑than‑light communication inevitably lead to causality paradoxes?"

"Would a civilization with infinite energy converge or diverge in its social structure?"

These are questions humanity has never taught it.

"It has started to think." Chen Guang said softly, "Thinking about… things we haven't even considered."

Fairy Isle bridge, the core team rarely gathered together; Li Yang rushed back from the Moon Base, Wang Hao had just finished the feasibility study of the propulsion system for Fairy Isle-2, Chen Guang brought the Torch Dragon-3 report, Zhao Kaiyuan held the planning diagram for the antimatter lab, and Zhao Gong carried samples of the new batch of dragon scale materials.

Feng Yan looked at everyone and smiled: "The cruise is over; the world now knows what we have. What's next?"

Li Yang pulled up the design plans for Fairy Isle-2: "I've already started designing Fairy Isle-2, with the goal of boundless starry skies."

Chen Guang pulled up the Torch Dragon-3 report: "It suggests we proactively respond to the deep-space signal."

Wang Hao raised his hand: "I've applied for a swimming pool on Fairy Isle-2! Although Guangzi said no, I'm still fighting for it!"

Zhao Kaiyuan smiled: "The antimatter lab will break ground next week. Although current output can only be discussed in theory… but what if we achieve a breakthrough?"

Feng Yan nodded: "Then it's settled. We'll explore deep space, guard Blue Star, and carry on with life."

He paused: "Also, Haizi, the whole institute will have hot pot in the cafeteria tomorrow night—I'll treat, enough for everyone."

"Yay!"

Late at night, in the Longyin Control Center, Chen Guang gazed at the deep-space signal analysis report autonomously generated by Torch Dragon-3, the cursor resting on the line "They may not be enemies."

He pushed up his glasses and whispered, "So… shall we talk?"

And above all this, in the depths of space, those signals continued to arrive.

They grew stronger and clearer.

The count had reached 192.

As if saying: "We see you."

So, are you ready?

Outside the window, a new round of sunrise rose from the East Sea.

Fairy Isle lay quietly docked at the base; the small characters on the bow reading "Professional disassembly, free guidance" gradually faded in the morning light.

And beside it, the construction zone for Fairy Isle-2 had already driven in the first pile.

Further away, the groundbreaking ceremony for the antimatter lab was being prepared.

A new day.

A new era.