Chapter 700: First Directed Communication

That filament of light, as fine as a hair tip.

It burst from the transmission array of the Xijing Resonance Station, condensed like substance, shooting straight toward the western firmament.

Its speed was extremely fast.

In the blink of an eye it reached that intangible barrier that separates heaven and earth.

The light curtain rippled slightly.

It was not a general undulation, only at the point aimed at by the light filament did faint ripples, imperceptible to the naked eye, spread outward.

The light filament "drilled" into it.

Instantly, it seemed to have intruded into a viscous, malicious colloid.

Countless dark blue, filthy "marks" were stirred, like blood-smelling leeches, wriggling out of the gaps in the rule structure and lunging forth, attempting to entwine, corrode, and distort this unfamiliar golden light.

The light filament trembled violently.

Its brightness faded at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The internally carried, precisely encoded pulse sequence began to deform—some pulses stretched, some compressed, others were outright swallowed by the filth and vanished.

It struggled forward.

Penetrating this thickest barrier.

Entering the world beyond the light curtain.

Here there is no aid from the nation's fortune, no guidance from the resonance stations.

It immediately began to diffuse and fade, like a drop of ink falling into clear water, except the color was pale gold.

Its direction still roughly pointed toward Huai Xi.

But its strength had dwindled to less than one percent.

Along its path, it left only a fleeting, specific disturbance on the most minute level of the rules.

Like a sigh below the limit of hearing.

Huai Xi Camp.

Zhu Yue's experiment had just reached a critical step.

Several captured snakes, their eyes a grayish blue, were each kept in wooden cages lined with stone slabs.

He tried to stimulate them in various ways.

Approaching the stone slabs engraved with the Knife-Plow Emblem.

Using burning coal chunks to approach.

He even tried sweeping with a simple cloth strip soaked in special herbal juice.

Observing the degree of their restless writhing, he recorded the minute changes.

Just then.

A point behind his left ear, where the skull meets the neck, suddenly shot an extremely sharp, brief pain.

Not the skin, but deeper.

Like being pricked by an icy needle in an instant.

It vanished immediately.

Zhu Yue shuddered all over, and the wooden stick he was holding to record almost fell.

"Again……"

This time the feeling was different from any before.

Sharper.

More fleeting.

Also more…… "deliberate".

It seemed not a diffusing aftereffect but a bullet aimed at him, except that by the time it reached his eyes it had become as light as a feather, leaving only the sensation of a needle‑point touch that appears and disappears instantly.

He immediately closed his eyes, focusing all his mind to capture the almost imperceptible "aftertone" contained in the sting.

It was too faint.

Moreover, its structure seemed…… incomplete?

Like an originally orderly signal that had been torn apart, leaving only a few fragmented pulse "syllables".

He forced himself to stay calm, using his whole mind to memorize and reconstruct those few fragmented pieces.

"Short…… strong…… interval…… long…… weak…… missing…… again short strong……"

He silently recited the rhythm.

Opening his eyes, he seized a charcoal stick and quickly sketched several incomplete lines and dots beside the experimental record.

After finishing, he stared at this set of symbols, more fragmented and harder to understand than the previous two times.

His brows knit tightly.

"The enemy's vanguard accelerates; it may arrive before autumn."

A voice suddenly sounded in his mind.

Not a real voice, but an instinctive association based on his prior two decryption experiences, applied to these few fragmented pulses.

Short‑strong pulses signify "urgent" or "accelerated".

Long‑weak pulses possibly signify "time" (before autumn).

And the very sense of incompleteness in the overall structure itself conveys the urgency of "imminent danger" and "incomplete information".

His heart clenched suddenly.

His gaze involuntarily turned toward the northeast.

Could it be the Jurchen?

Is that forced-matured knife going to be cut down early?

Immediately after, another set of possible associations for the fragmented pulses flashed in his mind.

"Inquiry……environment deterioration……biological mutation?"

Is this asking about the camp's recent situation?

The other side……is confirming whether he is still alive? Whether he has withstood the pressure?

Zhu Yue took a deep breath of icy air.

The other side not only sent a warning.

and is also trying to establish a two-way, even if extremely crude, "confirmation" link.

What does this mean?

It means that on the other side of the light curtain, someone is sparing no expense, trying to grasp this thread of his.

It means that he, Zhu Yue, or rather the "variable" he represents, may be of greater value in the other side's eyes than imagined.

It also means……the burden on his shoulders is heavier.

He not only demands survival, but also development.

He might also, at some point in the future, need to become a kind of "fulcrum".

He looked at the snakes in the wooden cage that were still restless and twisting, their eyes a grayish-blue.

He also looked toward the stone formation standing silently in the center of the camp.

Finally, his gaze fell on the bark recording the fragmented pulses.

"Before autumn……"

He repeated it softly.

It is now late spring.

Time, possibly only a few months left.

Within a few months, he must find a way to establish himself and grow on this land that is continuously polluted and besieged.

He needs to initially understand some properties of the dark energy.

He needs to establish at least a basic "order field" capable of protecting the camp from ongoing erosion.

Perhaps……he also needs to try making a response.

Let those on the other side of the light curtain know——

The fire seed is not extinguished.

It is still burning stubbornly.

He put away the charcoal pencil and carefully folded the bark recording the fragmented pulses.

Then, he walked toward the wooden cage.

His gaze became focused and sharp once again.

The experiment must continue.

Time must be squeezed out of every inch of gap.

And far away, Xijing.

Inside the test field.

The light of the channel prototype before Zhao Lao Nian finally faded completely, the overloaded crystal turning to powder.

"Energy depleted, channel closed."

The assistant reported, voice tinged with regret.

"Transmission duration, less than half of what was expected. Signal distortion rate……cannot be calculated."

Zhao Lao Nian said nothing, merely staring at the dim crystal.

He knew that signal must be incomplete.

But he knows even more that some words, even if only half spoken.

Those who should understand, will definitely understand.

"Clean up a bit."

He stood up and pounded his stiff lower back.

"Prepare to write a report and apply for more resources."

"This 'pinhole' still needs to be drilled."

"Until……a complete sentence can be transmitted over."