Chapter 3614: Guanghan Zhenren

When Wu Bolin arrived at Japan's Antarctic research station, his straight-line distance from Ye Chen was approximately four hundred kilometers.

Like the Nordic research station, the Japanese station was surrounded by desolation and had few neighbors.

The problem was that Antarctica was simply too vast; when a limited number of countries established a limited number of research stations, they all left room for their own and other nations' future development. If they were too close to other countries' stations, it would not only hinder their own future development but also likely compromise the secrecy of certain missions.

After all, Antarctic research was not merely about studying the local human environment and biological resources.

Antarctic research, like cosmic exploration, concerned not only science but also a nation's strategic layout, and even the development of certain strategic technologies.

For example, both the United States and Huaxia had once tested their Mars rovers in Antarctica, because Mars itself has an average temperature of only minus sixty-plus degrees, and Antarctica is the place on Earth closest to that environment, and Antarctica also has many glaciers and hills, which resemble Martian terrain to some extent.

Precisely because each country's Antarctic research involved various cutting-edge technologies, everyone rarely chose to cluster together.

The Japanese research station was much larger than the Nordic one, but even so, Wu Bolin, gazing at the low buildings under the polar night starlight, still could not hide his disdain.

Especially when he saw the two characters "Showa" written in kanji outside the station, his face filled with contempt and extreme displeasure.

Thus, he suddenly produced a palm-sized pocket sword from his wrist, infused it with spiritual energy to activate its formation, and the sword, less than a cun in length, instantly seemed enchanted, expanding rapidly into a icy treasure sword about one meter three or four long.

This sword did not actually become that long; rather, spiritual energy infused into it activated the formation, which manifested such a sword form. The sword body, formed by spiritual energy, could cut iron like mud and split mountains and shatter rocks.

Wu Bolin held the long sword and lightly waved it at the stone tablet engraved with "Showa Station," instantly flattening the entire engraved face. Then, with another sweep of his sword blade, he left three elegant, wild cursive characters on the tablet: "Wu Han Gong."

Wu Bolin was not well-read and could not think of a lofty name at the moment. He felt that if the legendary Guanghan Palace truly existed on the moon, it would probably be just like this—bitterly cold, dark, and sunless.

However, since there was no Chang'e here, and this place would become his temporary traveling palace for a while, he simply vulgarized it by changing one character, thus naming it "Wu Han Gong."

He mused: "Wu" represented the Wu family, "Han" needed no explanation—it was precisely the most fitting character for this icy place—and as for "Gong," it was to signify his extraordinary status.

After renaming it, he found the research station much more pleasing to the eye.

Thus, he secretly pondered: now that Wu Han Gong existed, it was his dojo, and naturally he also needed a Daoist title.

After much thought, since he used Wu Han Gong as the dojo name, he might as well use "Guanghan Zhenren" as his Daoist title—it sounded magnificent and ethereal, with profound artistic conception.

Thus, he summoned Kikuchi Kohei and ordered him: "Kikuchi, from now on, whenever anyone sees me, they must kneel on one knee and respectfully address me as 'Guanghan Zhenren,' including you. Understood?"

The effect of psychological suggestion is that it can completely eliminate ambiguity and maximize execution.

Kikuchi Kohei said nothing, immediately knelt on one knee, and respectfully said: "I pay my respects to Guanghan Zhenren!"

"Ah." Wu Bolin felt much refreshed and invigorated.

Don't look at how he was a highly respected grand elder in the Po Qing Hui; in truth, he had never experienced genuine nobility. He began secluded meditation in his youth, sitting cross-legged for a hundred or more years, his consciousness almost never leaving his sea of awareness—he was utterly immersed in his own world, lonelier than Sun Wukong pressed under the Five Elements Mountain for five hundred years. At least Sun Wukong had a herdsman bringing him fruit; Wu Bolin, during his years of seclusion, had not even a single person to talk to.

After emerging from seclusion, although the members of Po Qing Hui showed him increased respect, he could also feel that this respect did not come from their blind obedience to him, but from their deference to Wu Feiyan.

This made him feel like a lead actor in an opera troupe: although everyone in the troupe nodded and bowed when they saw him, these were merely the troupe owner's people. They were not loyal to him, and he held no real authority in the troupe.

Now it was different. Including Kikuchi Kohei, these several dozen Japanese research station members were his die-hard lackeys. In "Wu Han Gong," he was unquestionably the boss, and he no longer needed to live in the shadow of Wu Feiyan.

Thus, he immediately said to the kneeling Kikuchi Kohei: "Go, summon everyone here, and let them all pay homage to me!"

Kikuchi Kohei replied respectfully and loudly: "Subordinate obeys!"

Then he immediately went to gather everyone.

Although those people did not understand Chinese, Wu Bolin's psychological suggestion to them was delivered through Kikuchi Kohei in Japanese, so they absolutely obeyed Kikuchi Kohei.

Thus, a crowd of people immediately gathered on the icy, frigid square.

Before the stone tablet of "Wu Han Gong," Kikuchi Kohei told them in Japanese to follow him in learning the pronunciation of these eight Chinese characters.

The Japanese are not particularly gifted in language; this is evident from their everyday study of English and their attempt to learn the Chinese phrase "Shi shi zhe wei jun jie," which already shows a four-five-six level, so a group of people strained their brains to learn the pronunciation of these eight characters, practicing for a full twenty minutes.

Wu Bolin was also patient.

Standing on the platform before the stone tablet with his hands clasped behind his back, he looked down at these people practicing pronunciation in small groups, while Kikuchi Kohei kept running back and forth among them, constantly correcting their pronunciation.

At one moment, Wu Bolin suddenly understood what kind of life Wu Feiyan had lived for these hundreds of years: she was an empress surrounded by tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people! And she had sat on that throne for hundreds of years!

If he had the chance to live as freely as she did for hundreds of years, that would be wonderful.

In the weather of minus fifty-plus degrees, Kikuchi Kohei ran until sweat beaded on his forehead; the sweat fell onto his eyelashes, frozen by the cold wind into ice shards. Over time, two thick clusters of ice eyebrows actually hung from his eyelids.

He sprinted to Wu Bolin's side, knelt on one knee like a Qing dynasty slave, and said: "Reporting to Guanghan Zhenren, all members of Showa Station are ready!"

Wu Bolin frowned and questioned: "Say it again—what station?!"

Kikuchi Kohei then noticed the three Chinese characters on the stone tablet behind Wu Bolin, hastily corrected himself: "Reporting to Guanghan Zhenren, all members of Wu Han Gong are ready!"

Wu Bolin then satisfied, coldly said: "Since you're ready, then begin!"

Kikuchi Kohei, like a symphony conductor, turned to face the crowd, waved his hands, and the people shouted in their extremely strange accent: "Cai Xia Can Jian Gong Han Zhenren!"

The crowd's voices rose passionately; the white mist from their mouths simultaneously rose and gathered into a mass, truly spectacular.

Wu Bolin was momentarily startled, thinking he had misheard. He was Guanghan Zhenren—why did these Japanese shout it as "Gong Han Zhenren"?

He initially thought these Japanese were deliberately defying him outwardly while obeying inwardly, but then reconsidered: no, they had undergone psychological suggestion. Even if he made them stand shirtless in minus fifty-degree weather, they would not hesitate for half a second. This must clearly be a language ability issue.

Thus, he darkened his face and told Kikuchi Kohei: "From today on, teach them Chinese for six hours each day, and each person may sleep only three hours per day!"

Kikuchi Kohei immediately shouted loudly: "I obey!"

At this moment, the Japanese Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology, far away over ten thousand li outside, did not yet know that its two Antarctic research team members, along with the crew of the sole heavy icebreaker, had become Wu Bolin's lackeys.

Since they learned the research vessel had safely arrived in Antarctica, they had not paid much attention to the team's situation, assuming the team was carrying out routine tasks and that these professionals would orderly complete personnel and material handover in the coming days.

Three days later, when the research team's Chinese proficiency had noticeably improved, the Ministry received a message from the research vessel.

The research vessel suffered a mechanical failure and needed on-site troubleshooting before it could begin its return voyage.

The Ministry's personnel were somewhat puzzled: a brand-new research vessel, how could it break down upon reaching Antarctica? Ordinary mechanical faults do not affect normal navigation—one can fix them while sailing—but now it could not move at all and required repairs in Antarctica.

Thus, they immediately called the research vessel and raised their greatest concern: "Can you make it back before the coastline freezes beyond the icebreaker's limit?"

Matsushita Heiji ordered the captain to reply: "Unpredictable; please prepare for the possibility that the research vessel cannot return this winter."

The Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology immediately exploded in uproar.

Detaining dozens of people and a ship in Antarctica is not inherently dangerous, after all, supplies on the ship and at the research station are abundant, enough to sustain these people until Antarctica's summer arrives.

But the key is: who the hell can afford to lose this person?

Although the news of the research vessel's departure was not something the entire nation followed closely, there were still some polar enthusiasts and research team families paying attention. If it did not return, and the news spread domestically, it would be the face of their Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology that was lost. If it spread abroad, it would be the face of the entire Japanese scientific community.

This was not the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology needlessly worrying; it had precedent. Not long ago, two American astronauts, due to a malfunction in their interstellar aircraft, had their originally eight-day mission extended to 286 days in space. The image of one female astronaut reduced to skin and bone shocked the world, and NASA's reputation was nearly ruined. First, American astronauts stranded in space; now, Japanese research personnel stranded in Antarctica—if this spread, it would be enough for the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology to drink a pot of tea over.

Although the fine tradition of the person primarily responsible committing seppuku to apologize is no longer popular in Japan these days, the tradition of hanging oneself to commit suicide has always existed in Japan, for example, Sato Yasuhiro, the person in charge of the Fukushima nuclear accident, knowing he had caused a major disaster, ultimately chose to apologize with his death.

If a major oversight occurs in polar scientific research, causing an international scandal, the pressure on the person in charge, although not as great as that on Sato Yasuhiro, is still at least seventy or eighty percent, and that public opinion pressure is something ordinary people cannot withstand.

Therefore, the person in charge convened an internal top-secret meeting, and after discussion, decided to issue a request to the Antarctic scientific expedition team members and the crew of the scientific research vessel, asking them to tell their families that they were conducting secret scientific research in Antarctica and could not return home for a short time, and also asking them to present a unified front externally, never mentioning that the ship had malfunctioned.

To placate everyone's emotions and ensure full cooperation, they even offered a standard of ten times the daily wage, meaning that for every extra day spent in Antarctica beyond the original plan, they would receive ten days' wages, continuing until they returned.

The scientific expedition team members and the scientific research vessel crew had already completely submitted to Wu Bolin, and had truly lost interest in money; Wu Bolin asked them to agree, and they immediately agreed without hesitation.

Everyone agreed so readily and without exception, this performance moved the senior officials of the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology to tears on several occasions, and they even believed their scientific researchers' dedication was world-class, relieved, they immediately announced externally that Japan would launch the largest-scale and longest-duration Antarctic winter scientific expedition in history, leading the domestic public to believe there was some major discovery that could not yet be disclosed, with everyone becoming fervently excited online.

Little did they know, everything was the doing of Wu Bolin, this True Person of Guanghan.