Chapter Eight: A World That Must Be Conquered
“High certainty, very easy to infer...”
Li Fengyin fell into deep contemplation. This was not mere speculation but a reality calculated by a quantum computer, making baseless assumptions impossible. Yet, why was this the case?
When encountering something new, one usually knows little at first and must become familiar before mastering it—much like a road that becomes easier to walk the more one travels it. These two processes were analogous. Could it be that after 1993, the world’s developmental path also became clearer?
“But there should only be one path...”
Li Fengyin muttered to himself, yet reality suggested that deducing the present became easier. It did not seem to be because the quantum computer had run more calculations—verifying data from before 1993 remained difficult despite multiple computations.
Frowning deeply, Li Fengyin was puzzled. No matter how he thought about it, this problem led to a dead end.
Aigostein once said that spacetime could be distorted. Could the terrifying answer that flashed through his mind in an instant be true?
After more than ten minutes, Li Fengyin grew increasingly certain of this answer, even if it sounded implausible.
“Could inferences be wrong?”
He looked toward Shen Liangxin, who was sitting at a small table, holding a cup of coffee and studying some documents. Even in such fleeting moments, she was fully immersed.
When she looked up, Shen Liangxin had a thought: he seemed close to the answer she sought.
“Predictions about the future often have multiple possibilities, and the further out in time, the more branches appear. But there is only one true development path, which is sometimes absolutely certain—only one definite route... Inferences about the past hardly have problems, yet as we approach 1993, the path becomes clearer and more accurate as time progresses.”
As Shen Liangxin spoke of the quantum computer’s inference characteristics, she provided Li Fengyin with an answer. The laboratory fell into a brief silence.
“Then it must be repetition!”
Li Fengyin finally voiced an answer he found hard to accept: “Since 1993, the world’s development has been undergoing a restart! When a development fails, it restarts from 1993 and proceeds again. Among those divergent paths, only one is correct, while the others lead to destruction!”
“This would also explain why the quantum computer’s calculations are so accurate...”
Shaking his head slightly, Li Fengyin suddenly felt this conclusion was the ramblings of a madman.
“It really is repetition.”
Shen Liangxin nodded at last. She gently sipped her coffee and said, “The world is inherently terrifying, filled with unbearable truths. I found several nodes where branching paths began through the quantum computer, but no root cause. The only certainty is that once a specific condition is met, the world restarts and begins anew from 1993. With each cycle, everything becomes more determined.”
“However,” Shen Liangxin continued, “no matter how many times it restarts, for us, it should have only happened once.”
---
“By the way, according to my research, writers have a unique role—they possess special significance.”
Reluctant to say more, Shen Liangxin spoke softly, “I’ll tell you more later. For now, here’s a book you can study.”
She handed a book to Li Fengyin, who looked at the title:
*Record of the Spirit Realm*
Li Fengyin smiled suddenly. “Seems what’s been circulating online is true.”
“What’s that?”
Shen Liangxin asked curiously. Li Fengyin did not beat around the bush: “Science ultimately leads to metaphysics.”
“Pfft!”
Having just taken a sip of coffee, Shen Liangxin nearly spat it out. “You can’t say that about a serious scientist!”
Li Fengyin brightened. He gently wiped the coffee from the corner of her mouth and asked, “By the way, what experiment did you want me to do?”
“I won’t tell you!”
Shen Liangxin smiled faintly. “Some things lose their effect if spoken aloud.”
“Alright then...”
Li Fengyin was serious. Such things did indeed exist in the world. After a pause, he asked again, “So what do you want me to do?”
“You already have it,” Shen Liangxin said as she carried her coffee to the quantum computer’s control panel, beginning to record data. “Study *Record of the Spirit Realm* carefully and think deeply about it. I believe this is your strength.”
One had to admit, Shen Liangxin had a keen eye for people. Li Fengyin’s greatest confidence lay in his thinking ability, which had been well proven.
Time passed. Shen Liangxin busied herself with research, seemingly running multiple experiments simultaneously yet with perfect order. Meanwhile, Li Fengyin sat by the bookshelf, studying the book word by word, occasionally posing questions, pondering, and proposing hypotheses.
“Is the spirit realm the underworld?”
“Not entirely.”
“Is the Spirit King the strongest spirit, or a projection of our sun in reality?”
---
“I lean toward the former.”
“Are nightmares fragments of the world’s shattered existence?”
“Probably.”
...
One must say, as a scholar, Shen Liangxin was rigorous, usually only giving precise answers and rarely voicing conjecture. Yet through their dialogue, Li Fengyin quickly confirmed many truths.
Time passed. After finishing the outline and first volume of *Record of the Spirit Realm*, a sudden inspiration struck Li Fengyin. Impatiently, he asked: “Liangxin, in your view, is the world perfect?”
“Yes.”
Shen Liangxin answered softly, taking a book from the shelf as she prepared to search for information, then added, “Imperfect things cannot exist eternally.”
“If that’s the case...”
Li Fengyin’s mind instantly sparked with numerous hypotheses. “Then let me define the most perfect worldview I can imagine!”
“Good!”
Rarely giving praise, Shen Liangxin commended him, “Your viewpoint is constructive, though ultimately useless.”
“Useless?”
Li Fengyin was puzzled by her words but still began contemplating the ultimate questions of everything. Using his ability to envision the most perfect model of the world seemed ambitious, yet once a framework was established, others could gradually fill in the gaps.
After all, the world operates on the simplest rules. Concepts of past, present, future, size, continuity, nightmares and reality, good and evil, top and bottom—all had some intuitive manifestation.
Time slipped by unnoticed. Three days passed, yet Li Fengyin was still lost in thought. So far, he had only reached a hypothesis regarding top and bottom, akin to hot and cold, good and evil. More precisely:
*There is a bottom, but no top!*
This conclusion, derived from various realities, still thrilled Li Fengyin immensely.