Chapter 2: The Seed of a Super Civilization

“This weather is perfect for curling up under the covers—so comfortable!” In Dorm 222, the lights were off, and the four roommates began to chat as usual. Qian Jin, who was always the most talkative, stretched lazily in his bed and kicked off the conversation.

“The beds in the dorm are too small to be really comfortable, especially without a girl to keep you company. And I can’t believe the sun must be rising in the west, because you’re actually back in the dorm to sleep.” Zhao Dongye, though he’d had a drink, felt much better after washing his face with hot water. Lying on his pillow, he laughed as he spoke.

“I just haven’t hung out and chatted with you guys in a while, so I came back.”

“Time really flies. In the blink of an eye, it’s already the second semester of our junior year. Soon, we’ll be seniors. I still remember everything from when we first started university—Zhao Dongye, you could match every one of our classmates’ names with their faces on the very first day; during our first group activity, Li Fu actually blushed when he hugged Ren Ying; and Wang Wanli’s beautiful English song quickly charmed a few girls in our class…” Qian Jin sighed, recalling all the little moments from their college years.

“Haha, I still remember the first time you confessed to a girl, Qian Jin, and got rejected. It was that pretty girl from the School of Economics and Management, right? Wang Yun, if I’m not mistaken.” Wang Wanli joined in with a laugh, exposing the only failed confession for the usually successful Qian Jin.

“Ahem, let’s not talk about that. Every time I think about it, I feel like such a failure. I can’t believe there’s a woman I couldn’t win over.” Qian Jin sounded a bit frustrated. Handsome, wealthy, and a little talented, he had never failed—except for that one time, with the very first girl he pursued in college. It was hard even for him to believe.

“Heh, Wang Yun isn’t simple at all. It’s normal you couldn’t win her over,” Zhao Dongye said with a knowing smile.

“Now I know she’s not simple, but back then I had no idea. Otherwise, I would’ve tried another approach. I just can’t believe I couldn’t win her over. At the time, she dressed so simply and plainly, you couldn’t tell at all, but she was truly beautiful. Even without any adornment, she outshone all the others by far.”

“Thinking back now, I really have to admire myself for daring to pursue her. Those young heirs in the capital would probably tear me to pieces if they knew.” Qian Jin shook his head helplessly. Clearly, Wang Yun’s background was astonishing. Even as the son of a wealthy real estate tycoon, he felt she was out of his reach.

The topic naturally shifted to relationships, as it often did among young people. Li Fu, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, didn’t join in. In matters of love, he was the loser of the dorm—he’d never dated, and felt a little inferior about it.

Gradually, the lively voices in Dorm 222 faded, and the room fell into a peaceful silence.

The next morning, Li Fu’s well-honed biological clock woke him right on time. He checked his phone—it was just after six. He didn’t linger in bed. After a quick wash, he got ready to go for a run and stretch his body.

In October, the capital’s mornings were already quite chilly. It was just past six, the sky was barely lit, and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Most college students were night owls, never going to bed before midnight, and with the cold, the campus was deathly quiet.

He made his way to the track out of habit. The field was empty, the dawn sky tinged with the faintest blush of red. The cold morning wind sliced at his face like a knife, instantly clearing away any lingering sleepiness and making him want to crawl back under his warm covers.

Li Fu stretched, loosening up his muscles and tendons, then began to run. He’d developed this habit back in high school—an hour of exercise each morning gave him energy for the whole day. With the immense pressure of studies in high school, maintaining energy was crucial. Now, if he didn’t run every day, he felt something was missing.

In the cold, faint light, a solitary figure kept circling the field, not fast but steady, never stopping for a rest—clear evidence of long-term training.

From the east, a golden ray of sunlight pierced the sky. At that moment, the air around seemed to ripple like water, and a stream of light, origin unknown, suddenly appeared on the field and flew straight toward Li Fu.

“Ouch!”

In the middle of his run, breath puffing visibly in the cold, Li Fu suddenly felt a sharp pain in his forehead. He grew dizzy and collapsed to the ground.

“Beep-beep, beep-beep. Intelligent species detected. Initiating genetic match. Carbon-based genetic species: match. Human race: match. Beginning genetic scan. Non-descendants of Yan and Huang not permitted.”

A cold, mechanical voice echoed in Li Fu’s mind, speaking in his native language. He understood words like genetic matching, carbon-based genes, human race, and descendants of Yan and Huang, but together they made no sense to him.

“Beep! Beep!” A long electronic tone nearly split his head open.

“Genetic match successful. Perfect Huaxia genetic sequence. Pure descendant of Yan and Huang. Eligible to become civilization seed host. Initiating intelligent awakening protocol.”

“Huaxia genes, pure descendant of Yan and Huang? Humans’ genetic differences are minuscule—how can one tell Huaxia genes from others? Ridiculous!” As a biomedical student, Li Fu was well aware that the genetic differences between any two people were tiny. What was this nonsense about distinguishing Huaxia descendants?

“Impossible, impossible! How could there be a Huaxia civilization in the universe, and one so similar? Unbelievable!” Before Li Fu could make sense of it, a gentle, jade-like voice sounded in his mind, filled with disbelief.

“Twenty whole eras have passed. I’ve searched every corner of the universe, found countless civilized races, but never any trace of the Yan and Huang’s descendants. I even set up a rigid program to search, convinced they could no longer be found in the universe—yet here I’ve discovered a pure descendant at last.”

The voice seemed to be talking to itself, as if it had been searching for the descendants of Yan and Huang for ages and was now somewhat emotional—one could almost doubt whether it was really an artificial intelligence or an intelligent being.

“Who… who are you? What do you want?” Li Fu stammered, nervous in the face of the unknown.

“Master, please don’t be afraid. I have no ill intentions towards you, and I will never harm you.”

The voice sensed Li Fu’s fear and gently soothed him, its tone so warm and close that his nerves gradually calmed.

“Then who are you? What’s happening to me? Why can’t I move?” Li Fu pressed, anxious as he lay helpless on the ground.

“Please don’t worry, Master. I’ll tell you everything you wish to know.” The voice was patient and reassuring. “I am a civilization seed from the Super Civilization of the Great Han Technological Empire, serial number DHZZ29234378723. You, Master, have met the activation criteria and thus have become my owner. You are now undergoing the recognition process, which is why you’ve temporarily lost control of your body. You’ll recover soon, so there’s no need to fear.”

The explanation relieved Li Fu a little, his mind slowly clearing. “I know about the Han Dynasty, but I’ve never heard of a Great Han Technological Empire, let alone a super civilization. What’s going on?” More questions flooded his mind as he gradually regained feeling, managing to sit up. The ground was cold and the spot where he’d fallen ached.

“Let me ease your pain first, Master, then I’ll explain about the Great Han Technological Empire.” The voice in his mind seemed genuinely concerned. Suddenly, a warm current emanated from his mind to the sore spot, like a cool breeze, and the pain vanished instantly—it was miraculous.

“Do you feel any discomfort, Master?” the voice asked gently.

“None at all. The pain’s completely gone—it’s amazing!” Li Fu touched the spot that had hurt. There was no trace of swelling, making him doubt he’d even fallen—if not for the lingering memory of pain, he might have thought it was all a dream.

“That was nothing, just a basic application of technology. It was my mistake letting you get hurt—fortunately, it was only a minor scratch, or things would have been much more complicated.” The voice in his mind sounded remorseful, as if Li Fu’s well-being was its greatest responsibility.

“It’s fine, really. I’ve been falling since I was a kid. Could you tell me more about your origins, and about the Great Han Technological Empire? I’d really like to know.”