Chapter 678: The Scholar's Vigil

Morning light filtered through the torn tent's gaps, sparingly shedding a few strands.

Zhu Yue had already woken.

Or rather, he had barely slept all night.

The fatigue of the latter half of the night was replaced by a persistent, highly alert train of thought.

He lay there, eyes fixed on the grayish sky beyond the torn roof, his mind replaying the brief, strange perception from last night over and over.

Structure.

Stability.

Cycle.

These few words kept surfacing in his consciousness.

That was not something he "heard" in content, but rather the core features he unconsciously inferred from the rhythmic pattern he perceived.

That signal… if it truly is a signal, it conveys not concrete information but more like a demonstration of some "principle" or "model."

An abstract expression concerning "how to construct stable things."

Why would it be this kind of content?

Who would use this method to transmit information?

What is the purpose?

Each question, like a stone tossed into a calm pond, sent ripples spreading across the pool of his thoughts.

He knew that baseless speculation was meaningless.

He needed data, more observational samples.

He rose quietly, trying not to disturb the still-sleeping Xu Da.

He stepped out of the tent; the crisp morning air invigorated him.

The camp still lay under a sleeping chill, only a few early-rising elders shivering beside the embers, attempting to rekindle the fire.

Zhu Yue walked to the edge of the camp, coming to the patch of frozen ground they had cleared these past days.

The soil remained hard, but after repeated tamping and mixing in organic matter, its surface seemed a shade darker and its texture no longer that dead, compacted hardness.

He crouched down, as usual, to check the soil temperature and moisture.

His fingers plunged into the cold soil layer.

Just then——

That faint throbbing sensation came again.

It was even fainter and more elusive than last night.

It was like a wisp of spider silk almost blown away by the wind, lightly brushing the surface of his consciousness.

This time, the "rhythm" it brought was somewhat different.

No longer merely "structural stability," it faintly pointed toward……the transmission and conversion of energy?

Very vague, hard to grasp.

But Zhu Yue keenly sensed a hint of regularity—the undulating rhythm of that rhythm seemed to resonate, in some ineffable, extremely weak way, with certain microscopic states of the soil beneath his fingers (perhaps a temperature gradient, perhaps a moisture distribution).

Not directly related.

It was more like a demonstration of a "possibility": under this material state, energy could flow this way, could transform this way.

He held his breath, kept his fingers touching the soil, and immersed himself wholly in this subtle perception.

After a few seconds, the sensation vanished.

It left no trace, as if it had never occurred.

Zhu Yue slowly withdrew his hand, gazing at his dirt‑stained fingers, his eyes sharp as a blade.

Not an illusion.

Twice now.

Moreover, it seemed to resonate contextually with the concrete "practice" he was engaged in—improving the soil.

This could absolutely not be a natural phenomenon.

Natural energy disturbances would not be so "thoughtful," nor would they conveniently demonstrate the relevant abstract principle just when he focused on a specific task.

This is……feedback?

Is it some kind of response to his "action"?

A bolder hypothesis formed in his mind:

Assuming there exists one (or a group) of unknown observers.

They can perceive certain of his actions (especially those with a "creative" or "regularity‑exploring" nature).

Then they would send this extremely obscure, principle‑demonstrating kind of "signal" as a reply?

What is the purpose?

Guidance? Inspiration? Testing?

Zhu Yue furrowed his brows.

This hypothesis still has many loopholes, but it explains the current limited observations better than pure "natural phenomenon" or "random broadcast."

He needs verification.

The method of verification……

His gaze fell once more onto the frozen ground before him.

If his actions could truly "trigger" some response.

Then, when he undertakes another different activity with a clear "regularity‑exploring" nature, would he still receive a "signal"?

Would the signal's content be related to his new activity's theme?

An experimental plan quickly took shape in his mind.

He needed to design several different, small-scale 'exploratory activities'.

The content should be concrete, preferably involving different basic principles (mechanics, thermodynamics, simple material changes).

Then, at a fixed time (such as late at night, when environmental interference is minimal), he would focus on carrying out these activities while concentrating all his mental energy on perception.

Record the content, time, and personal state of each activity, as well as whether any abnormal perception occurred, and the specific 'rhythm' characteristics of what was perceived.

He wanted to establish his own 'observation log'.

Using the most primitive methods, he would accumulate data and look for patterns.

Science begins with observation.

And he now is an observer trapped in the late Yuan dynasty, facing a completely new unknown phenomenon.

"Chong Ba, why are you up so early?"

Xu Da rubbed his eyes as he stepped out of the tent and saw Zhu Yue crouching by the soil.

"Hmm, let's look at the soil."

Zhu Yue stood up, his expression unchanged.

"Let's try a new method today."

"Take two people and go find more dry cow and horse manure, the kind that crumbles when stepped on."

Also get some lime—that is, the white, burnt surface of stone, which should be findable at the broken kiln beside the camp.

Xu Da looked somewhat bewildered.

"What's that stuff for? It's stinky and irritating."

"Mixed into the soil, it can generate heat and also repel insects and disease."

Zhu Yue gave a simple explanation, using terms Xu Da could understand.

"Let's see if we can make this plot of land come 'alive' sooner."

His use of 'alive' referred both to the soil regaining fertility and, implicitly, to his hope that this new attempt involving simple chemical and biological thermal principles might once again 'trigger' that mysterious signal feedback.

Xu Da sort of understood, but he already trusted Zhu Yue's words.

"All right, I'll go now."

Watching Xu Da's retreating back, Zhu Yue drew a deep breath of cool, clear air.

He began walking around the camp, searching for other usable 'experimental materials'.

A relatively flat piece of bark could serve as a recording medium.

A small, uniform piece of soft stone could be sharpened into a stylus.

He even found several hemp ropes of varying thickness, thinking perhaps they could be used for simple tests of force and structure.

His movements were unhurried, just as usual, focused on solving the immediate practical problem.

But only he knew that, behind these seemingly ordinary survival chores, a personal, silent 'investigation' had quietly begun.

Goal: understand this world's 'abnormality'.

Method: observation, hypothesis, experiment, verification.

Mindset: vigilance, curiosity, calm.

Like an explorer who has discovered the footprints of an unknown species in a strange jungle.

He felt a vague unease, yet was driven by a powerful, instinctual thirst for knowledge.

He wanted to know where those footprints came from and what they signified.

The cold wind across the Huai Xi wilderness continued to blow, unrelenting.

It did not know that, on this land shrouded in hardship and despair, a seed utterly different had already sprouted.

It was not a seed of power, nor a seed of hatred.

But a seed named 'inquiry'.

It grew silently, attempting to understand this mist‑filled world in its own unique way.

And far away, those beings that cast their gaze might also be waiting, to see what kind of flower this seed will ultimately bloom into.