Chapter 348: Global Net

Zhao Jianguo stared at the metal probe pressed against his temple, while high‑frequency static tore through the air in his ears. The wall quivered slightly, as if countless fine needles were stabbing back and forth inside it. He stayed still, but his hand slipped back half an inch, his fingertip touching the shattered glass on the edge of the desk—glass that had splintered when the Terminal exploded.

Snap!

A crisp crack sounded, not from the probe detonating but from Zhao Jianguo stamping a foot hard enough to shatter the remaining circuit board on the floor. A flash of blue light flickered for an instant, then went out. The new director's body swayed, the rigid smile at his mouth finally cracking open, but before he could speak, the lights in the whole room began to flash rapidly, one after another, as if someone were repeatedly flipping a switch.

A sound came from the East Room.

The Triplets nearly tumbled off the kang. Zhao Xing was the first to dash out, his hair a mess, muttering, "Dad! The foundation stone is scorching!" Zhao Chen followed behind, one hand pulling Zhao Yang, the other slapping the old‑style electric box in the corner. "Breaker tripped!" he shouted.

Zhao Jianguo lunged forward in a single bound, blocking the three behind him. "Don't touch the box! The current's off." As he spoke, he bent down and pulled a wooden board from under the bed, its surface covered with crooked symbols, and in the center set a rust‑spotted copper coin—something he had obtained ten years ago from his first sign‑in, kept ever since as a joke at the bottom of the chest.

Now that joke has become his lifeline.

He bit his finger, smeared a circle of blood on the copper coin, and whispered, "Activate the Civilization Shared Network."

The words barely left his mouth when every appliance in the room emitted a hum. The radio turned on by itself, playing the morning news, but the volume rose and fell, interspersed with unintelligible tones, as if someone were reciting code in multiple languages at once. The wall plaster began to flake, and gray‑black mist seeped from the cracks, strands gathering toward the ceiling, gradually forming a swirling dark cloud.

"The global nodes have been activated," Zhao Yang whispered, his eyes fixed on the cloud. "Hackers… so many hackers, merged with the Virus."

Zhao Jianguo didn't turn around, just reached his hand behind his back and said, "Bring the foundation stone."

Zhao Xing immediately handed over the warm stone he was holding. It had been an ordinary greenish stone slab, unearthed from the foundation during the Siheyuan's renovation, and somehow had become the key linking to the Civilization Shared Network. Zhao Jianguo pressed it onto the center of the board, and the copper coin instantly glowed red, like heated iron.

Outside the whole courtyard, the sky was still dim, yet every household's windows glowed with a faint blue light. It was neither electric lamp nor oil lamp, but a light that spread along the inner surface of the glass, like flowing mercury. Children, turning over in their dreams, unconsciously hummed ancestral lullabies; an old man lying on the kang coughed, and between coughs began to sing a labor song from before liberation; even the old cat that always napped at the courtyard gate twitched its ears, its paws scratching strange patterns on the floor.

All those sounds, movements, and traces were drawn away by an invisible force, flowing through the underground conduits into the East Wing Room.

Zhao Jianguo closed his eyes, his consciousness sinking inward.

Outside, the world turned into a raging black tide, wave after wave crashing against the Siheyuan's barrier. Each surge carried twisted faces and shattered languages—some screaming, some sneering, and some repeating in a mechanical voice, "Delete redundant civilization, reboot the pure system."

He stood motionless in the tide, pulling from memory the very first sign‑in record—on the day he first crossed over, he crouched in the bathroom corner munching on a bun, casually tapped "Signed in today," and received a pack of matches and half a bottle of soy sauce. When that System Prompt popped up, he thought his eyes were playing tricks.

He used that as the key.

He amplified that memory, broadcasting it outward.

The black tide suddenly halted.

Immediately afterward, golden light erupted from the center of the Siheyuan, expanding in concentric circles. The attacking code, as if meeting its nemesis, fractured and dissipated. Yet before anyone could catch a breath, new waves surged from afar, denser and faster than before, carrying malicious commands in even more languages.

"Can't hold it!" Zhao Xing leaned against the wall, blood‑spattered from his nose, "They've teamed up, international hackers… all linked to the Virus main chain."

Zhao Jianguo opened his eyes, cold sweat covering his forehead, "You all sing."

"Huh?" the Triplets froze.

"Sing the folk song passed down at home! Quickly!"

Zhao Chen reacted first, opening his mouth: "Moon over the ground, shines on the doorstep, beneath the doorstep a spring onion is buried…" Zhao Xing and Zhao Yang immediately followed: "Brother fetches water to water the garden, sister stews a big pot on the stove…"

The three sang in increasingly unison, their voices modest but steady. The greenish stone slab quivered faintly with the rhythm, a layer of golden light rising on its surface, gradually forming a semicircular dome that enveloped the entire East Room.

The third impact arrived.

This time, the black tide coalesced into a humanoid figure standing at the courtyard gate, wearing a dark‑blue wool coat, its face bearing a familiar grin—the same as the new director's, only its eyes were completely black, without a hint of white.

"Zhao Jianguo." it spoke, its voice a chorus of several people, "You can't protect it for long. The civilization's foundation stone was never meant to exist."

Zhao Jianguo ignored it, turned to the Triplets and said, "Louder."

They shouted almost to the point of voice cracking.

At that moment, a red interface suddenly appeared on the wall, the characters vertically descending:

【Detection: Civilization Fire Seed integrity below threshold】

【Activate Ultimate Protocol】

【In 10 seconds, either victory or total reset】

The countdown began.

9.

Zhao Jianguo seized the copper coin, slashing it hard across his palm; fresh blood streamed along the Runes into the wooden board. He whispered the tally of sign‑ins he had accumulated over the years, none missed, as if registering a household.

8.

A crack appeared in the golden dome, a sliver of black tide seeped in, licking Zhao Yang's shoe tip. His footing gave way, nearly kneeling, but Zhao Chen held him firmly.

7.

Zhao Jianguo drew a formation on the wall with his blood, each stroke steady. He knew those sign‑in points were far from enough to lock the "no reset" option, but his stubbornness drove him onward.

6.

The Triplets suddenly released their grip, lunging together toward the foundation stone. Zhao Xing shouted, "Dad! We'll push it to you!"

5.

Together they shoved the stone toward the array's core, and Zhao Jianguo pressed it into the copper coin's groove. The entire wooden board glowed blazingly, as if trying to cram the sun into a box.

4.

Red text flickered: 【Lockdown failed, enforcing now】

Zhao Jianguo clenched his teeth, threw himself forward, pressing the array against his chest, "I'm right here! Ten years I never missed a single sign‑in; you say reset, then reset?"

3.

The three children shouted in unison, "We're here!"

At that moment, all the lights froze.

The black tide hovered mid‑air, the humanoid shattering into fragments. The wall's countdown stuck at "3", no longer descending. The blue light outside the house receded slowly, like tide returning to the sea. The old cat yawned, curled up and kept sleeping.

Zhao Jianguo leaned against the wall, sliding to sit on the floor, the taste of blood in his mouth, his right hand still clutching the blood‑stained copper coin. The Triplets gathered around the foundation stone, hand in hand, their heads drooping one by one, eventually succumbing to sleep.

Only breathing remained in the room.

In the distance, a sliver of dawn pink appeared on the horizon. The earth‑brick kang in the East Room remained warm, a few shafts of morning light fell on the window paper, slanting onto the greenish stone slab. It no longer glowed nor burned, just an ordinary stone.

Zhao Jianguo blinked, but didn't close his eyes.