Chapter 27
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Chapter 27: Title
Upon receiving orders from the Special Bureau’s Comprehensive Section 5, all operational teams mobilized swiftly. Unlike Special Operations Section 1, Comprehensive Section 5 functioned as a versatile unit within the Bureau—a jack-of-all-trades deployed wherever necessity demanded.
Team 3, comprising sixteen agents in eight pairs, dispersed with assigned lists to conduct routine checks.
*Thud, thud, thud.*
A young duo clad in black suits, clutching identical black briefcases, materialized before an apartment complex in Yunhai City. The woman—sharp-featured and poised—verified the address on her intelligence dossier. "Sixteenth floor," she confirmed. "Unit 1603."
"Proceed," her partner acknowledged with a curt nod.
While the Analysis Department and Information Section typically handled intelligence operations, this full-scale deployment of Comprehensive Section 5 had been bolstered by Information Section 2 and Analysis Section 3. Within hours, they’d compiled dossiers on suspected "extraordinary individuals."
In the digital age, every footprint left in cyberspace became a breadcrumb trail. Privacy was an illusion—especially for those tethered to the web.
The third team of Information Section 2, nicknamed the "paparazzi group" by colleagues, could unearth details as intimate as a target’s undergarment preferences.
The elevator chimed its arrival at the sixteenth floor. Before Unit 1603, the agents exchanged silent cues. The woman pressed the doorbell.
*Ding-dong.*
"Who’s there?" A disheveled youth in graphic tee and flip-flops cracked the door open. His gaze narrowed. "Not buying insurance," he declared, attempting to slam the barrier shut.
The male agent wedged his palm against the retreating door, muscles straining as he forced entry. "We’re not salespeople."
"I warned you about the dress code," the female agent sighed, producing her credentials with theatrical flourish. "Yang Xingyu? Special Bureau’s Comprehensive Section 5. We oversee… unconventional incidents." Her partner loomed behind her like a storm cloud.
"The ‘ignition event’ at 9:04 AM requires clarification."
Yang’s throat bobbed. Two minutes of frantic mental calculus confirmed the inevitable—resistance was futile. He manufactured a grin, ushering them inside while mentally mapping escape routes.
"Government officials! What an honor!" His hands trembled as he poured water, barely restraining from spiking their glasses. "The online thing was a glitch, I swear!"
"Relax, Mr. Yang." The woman’s chuckle carried an edge of amusement. "Zhu Xin, field coordinator. My colleague Chu Fei."
The mountainous man grunted acknowledgment.
"We’re simply documenting extraordinary individuals," Zhu continued, her honeyed tone contrasting with Chu’s granite presence. "For public safety."
"Just Yang Xingyu’s fine," the youth blurted, relief loosening his tongue. "So there’s more like me?"
Wait, did I just stumble upon a national secret? Could they eliminate me to keep me quiet? No, wait—what if they turn me into a lab experiment? As scenes from countless foreign sci-fi films flashed through Yang Xingyu’s mind, his nerves tightened like coiled springs.
Zhu Xin’s sharp eyes immediately caught his renewed tension. She could practically see the paranoid scenarios unfolding behind his furrowed brows.
"Our nation doesn’t engage in human experimentation," she clarified with practiced calmness, her smile masking internal exasperation. "You’d only need to undergo basic medical evaluations—nothing invasive."
Foreign media’s influence on the youth never ceased to amaze her, Zhu Xin mused silently. This encounter made her wonder how many of her colleagues were facing similar challenges nationwide.
"The procedures include blood drawing, hair sample analysis, physical strength assessments…"
Their strategy proved effective—a kind-faced woman and a fashionably attractive partner made the perfect duo to disarm an outdoor livestream personality like Yang Xingyu.
Under Zhu Xin’s reassuring guidance, the young man gradually relaxed, even proudly demonstrating his finger-ignited flames. Before he realized it, he’d signed the application for Special Action Division One.
"Please maintain confidentiality about today’s events," Zhu Xin reminded as she departed, handing him an embossed invitation. "No online explanations either."
"Y-yeah, got it," Yang Xingyu stammered, staring at the card bearing the Special Bureau’s insignia.
"Until we meet at the Bureau." Her parting smile lingered like a promise.
Alone again, Yang Xingyu snapped his fingers—a blue flame danced harmlessly on his palm, radiating comforting warmth rather than heat.
"The Special Bureau…" He exhaled in wonder, examining the invitation’s elegant script listing his name and a Capital City address. Three days to decide.
The flickering fire reflected in his determined eyes. Using this gift merely for lighting cigarettes? Unthinkable. The Bureau’s name alone evoked images of secret societies and extraordinary individuals—a far cry from his mundane livestreams.
He posted a "closed-door cultivation" notice online and began packing. Since when did he choose safety over adventure?
"Blood tests are manageable," he reasoned while stuffing clothes into a duffel. "Just no scalpels." The midnight flight to Capital City gleamed on his phone screen—a one-way ticket to the extraordinary.
……
"Was the deception necessary?" Chu Fei’s knuckles whitened on the steering wheel as their car sped toward the airport.
Zhu Xin didn’t look up from her dossier. "Deception implies falsehood. We’re collecting a self-playing paulownia zither in Zhejiang Province next—truth comes in layers."
"Your ‘many people like him’ claim? The ‘teachers’?"
She fanned out personnel files like a poker hand. "Scientific Research Division 6 employs academicians. Bureau trainers outnumber Starbucks in Capital City. Where’s the lie?"
"Semantic gymnastics."
"Strategic foresight," she countered, watching terminal lights blur past. "When recruits converge at headquarters, my words become fact. Rational beings choose collaboration—bulletproof superhumans remain fictional, last I checked."
Chu Fei’s silence conceded the argument.
Their plane touched down in Zhejiang Province by dawn. At the deceased zither master’s residence, family members handed over the antique instrument with tearful reluctance.
……
Three sharp knocks echoed through the apartment corridor:
"Water meter inspection!"
"Package delivery!"
"Takeout order!"
“Open up! Selling insurance!”
……
While Chu Fei and Zhu Xin were occupied promoting “insurance,” the other three teams worked tirelessly for the public good.
Mount Hua.
By the time Chu Fei and Zhu Xin reached Mount Hua, dusk had fallen.
“The mountain path is treacherous at this hour. We’ll ascend at dawn,” Zhu Xin declared, retrieving their hotel reservation.
The double room at the hotel beneath Mount Hua was a relief after their long day.
“Nearly every lodging was booked solid,” Zhu Xin sighed, massaging her temples. Only now, after hours of relentless travel, could they finally rest.
Since the Ancient Stone Tablet’s discovery at Mount Hua went viral, reservations surged—not just here, but across all overcrowded sacred peaks. With phenomena like Radiant Light at Mount Song added to the mix, the nation’s famed mountains braced for unprecedented tourist tides.
And this was merely the first day of these marvels.
When Zhu Xin’s words met only silence, she turned to find Chu Fei already asleep, quilt folded precisely beneath his chin.
*Odd duck*, she mused.
The Special Bureau had become a refuge for misfits since its inception—discarded mavericks and recluses from every agency. Few among them could claim normalcy.
—Hardly surprising, given how the Bureau started as a dumping ground for undesirables.
As anomalies multiplied, so did its ranks. Were it not classified, crowds would’ve clawed their way in.
Next dawn, before first light.
Mount Taihua. Chu Fei and Zhu Xin stood before Zhenyue Palace’s weathered gates.
“Pardon us, Taoist Priest,” Zhu Xin intercepted a young Taoist sweeping fallen leaves. “We seek someone.”
She swiped her phone to display the grinning youth from yesterday’s footage. “Is this man here?”
The young Taoist’s gaze flickered between visitors and image—recognition dawned.
“Ah, Li Canghai-shishu. The abbot accepted him as sworn brother yesterday. He attends morning sutras in the main hall.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Many have come asking after him since dawn…”
“We’ve urgent matters. Our thanks.” Zhu Xin strode toward the hall. Soon, Zhenyue Palace would swarm with tourists.
“He’s taken vows?” Chu Fei’s eyebrows rose.
“Ninety percent probability,” Zhu Xin grimaced.
Their dossier revealed Li Canghai: twenty-two going on forty, prodigy who’d graduated Tsinghua’s Chinese literature program at sixteen. Obsessed with Taoist lore, he’d roamed mountains seeking traces of transcendence.
Yesterday’s footage showed him veering toward Zhenyue Palace after witnessing the Ancient Stone Tablet’s emergence—no descent, but this detour into devotion.
“Yet this confirms our path,” Zhu Xin murmured. “That tablet altered his psyche, triggered this rash decision.”
In the hall’s incense-hazed stillness, Li Canghai stood robed in indigo, Nanhua Jing scroll in hand. Morning light traced his scholar’s features, the wooden pin securing his black half-bound hair. His voice wove through the sacred texts:
“…In northern gloom resides Kun, the fish spanning leagues unknown. Transformed, it becomes Peng, whose wings eclipse horizons. When enraged, it ascends…”
The arrival of Chu Fei and Zhu Xin drew curious glances, with many Taoist priests in the grand hall observing the two newcomers who stood out like misplaced brushstrokes on an ancient scroll.
"Taoist Priest Li Canghai, we request a private audience," Chu Fei stepped forward, his grave tone resonating beneath the vaulted ceilings.
"…The Southern Ming is Tianchi Lake," Li Canghai completed the verse before rising with fluid grace, hands clasped in the traditional greeting. "Honored guests, this way."
His movements carried the poise of a centuries-old master rather than a recently ordained priest – an embodiment of cultivation that made even seasoned practitioners appear clumsy in comparison.
Zhu Xin’s gaze lingered on the Taoist’s retreating figure, recalling how this scion of the prestigious Li clan had severed familial ties to walk his solitary path. Such resolve made her own spiritual journey seem pedestrian.
While they conversed, two figures ascended Wudang Mountain’s mist-shrouded steps to seek Chen Qingfeng, the legendary Taoist Priest whose reputation outshone even the monastery’s gilded rooftops.
"Daoist Priest Chen Qingfeng," their spokesperson bowed, "we humbly request your accompaniment."
Simultaneously at Shaolin Temple, Group Three discovered young monk Huixin kneeling before Guanyin’s effigy, his forehead pressed against stone worn smooth by countless pilgrims. The nationwide operation unfolded like ripples from three stones cast into still waters.
*
The Ghost in Red blinked away the afterimages of countless surveillance feeds, her spectral form unaffected by thirty-six hours of continuous video analysis.
"A pleasure meeting you properly, red-clad senior," Lin Jing offered a shallow bow, recalling their previous digital encounter.
Memory flickered behind her obsidian eyes. "Lin Jing of the Special Bureau."
"Having reviewed Information Section 2’s archives yesterday," he pressed, "what’s your verdict on the divine resurgence theory?" His throat tightened around Director Yan Hua’s warning – the Awakening of Spiritual Energy’s implications hinged on this answer.
"Gods belong to fireside tales," her crimson sleeves whispered as she shook her head. "Those recordings showed me nothing familiar."
Lin Jing’s expectant posture deflated slightly, though the result aligned with their research. If deities had vanished before the Southern Song Dynasty, even this centuries-old spirit might lack answers.
"Should such beings exist," he mused, "their intentions could rewrite reality. The zither from Zhejiang Province has arrived – would you examine it?"
The paulownia wood instrument rested in Comprehensive Section 5’s vault, its lacquered surface glowing under preservation lamps. Triple-locked behind alloy doors, it emanated quiet dignity – an emperor’s treasure among common artifacts.
"May I?" Her fingertips hovered above the strings.
At Lin Jing’s nod, she settled onto the floor without ceremony. Hesitant plucks steadied into cascading notes, her muscle memory transcending decay. The melody wove through security sensors like smoke, softening the room’s sharp angles.
"It’s birthed a spirit," she concluded as the last vibration faded. "Weak from centuries of silence, but recoverable."
"Sentient?" Lin Jing’s pen froze mid-note.
Her head tilted at his astonishment. To one who’d conversed with moonlit willows and storm-voiced cliffs, the concept needed no explanation. Yet for this modern man, consciousness remained humanity’s solitary crown.
"You’re not wrong to say that," the Ghost in Red acknowledged.
No sooner had one wave subsided than another arose. Lin Jing massaged his temples while staring at the antique zither—another rewritten report awaited him.
The pair had just exited the exhibition chamber when Lin Jing’s phone rang.
"They’ve arrived? Everything’s prepared? Good, I’ll be there immediately," he spoke into the receiver, his gaze shifting to the impassive Ghost in Red. "Senior, would you accompany me to meet some people?"
"I heard," she replied. Her preternatural hearing had captured every word of his conversation despite the phone’s proximity.
"Will you honor us with your presence?" Lin Jing inquired openly, having learned transparency often proved wiser than subterfuge.
"Curiosity compels me," the Ghost in Red conceded.
Their elevator ascended to the eighth floor.
"Pretty sister!" Mingming lunged at her the moment the doors opened.
With fluid motion, the Ghost in Red intercepted the rambunctious child by his collar. The spiritual pattern glowing on Mingming’s forehead pulsed with her infused energy—its presence maintaining the boy’s visibility to ordinary people.
"My apologies for the delay," Lin Jing addressed the gathering, nodding toward Cui Ming. "The senior and I were inspecting the exhibition chamber earlier."
"Mingming, cease pestering our guest." Bai Ye retrieved the squirming boy, perplexed by the child’s sudden attachment to the entity he’d previously feared.
The Ghost in Red straightened her sleeves, acutely aware of numerous eyes assessing her. She met their collective scrutiny with equanimity.
The assembly presented an eclectic tableau: a young Taoist beside his wizened counterpart, a shaven-headed novice, a youth igniting flames between his fingertips, and a maiden sporting downy fox ears. Behind them stood numerous elderly gentlemen and middle-aged men exuding the robust vitality of seasoned martial practitioners.
Zhongxia’s sprawling domains had witnessed multiple anomalies since dawn yesterday, yet this gathering—led by the elder Taoist—represented nearly all identified extraordinary individuals.
"Allow me to make introductions," Lin Jing announced, joining Cui Ming at the center. The repurposed Accommodation Area stood largely vacant, awaiting its first official residents. "This is the Ghost in Red." He deliberately omitted her spectral nature, wary of alarming the martial arts masters whose combined ages averaged over six decades.
"These distinguished practitioners have achieved varying breakthroughs since yesterday’s events. Presenting Li Canghai, the young Taoist; Taoist Priest Chen Qingfeng; Hui Xin, our young monastic; and Hu Mei, who recently manifested vulpine features…"
"Martial arts lie beyond my expertise," the Ghost in Red stated lightly, silencing the room.
A silver-haired master stepped forward, clasping his hands in salute. "Esteemed Senior, might you enlighten us regarding our cultivation realms?"
"Those uninitiated in the innate remain bound to the postnatal," she mused. "You seek hierarchical clarification?"
"Your wisdom would illuminate our path," the master entreated.
Lin Jing and Cui Ming exchanged apprehensive glances—were these venerable warriors truly contemplating a challenge?
"You cannot rival me," the Ghost in Red declared. Though her restored ninth-rank power paled against former glory, her transcendent comprehension dwarfed their mortal understandings. "For cultivation guidance, consult him instead."
"Me?" Taoist Priest Chen Qingfeng blinked in bewilderment.
"You appear to follow the path of Dao attainment through martial arts."
The Ghost in Red, though unversed in martial arts herself, recognized Chen Qingfeng’s approach through residual knowledge from those long-ago teachers. Her ability to discern his martial-Dao integration stemmed from her past cultivation in the Soul Condensing Realm.
"You… I find rather perplexing," she remarked, studying Li Canghai. The youth’s starlit eyes and faint smile seemed to pierce through her carefully maintained facade.
"By your earlier description, I should be at the late Transcendence Realm," Li Canghai offered amiably, "merely a step from Tier One."
A ripple of astonishment passed through the group. Having heard Cui Ming’s lectures on cultivation stages, they’d naturally assumed Daoist Priest Chen Qingfeng to be their strongest member – never imagining such power could reside in one so youthful.
"The Ancient Stone Tablet holds the answer," Li Canghai continued without prompting. "A single glance plunged me into what felt like years of contemplation. When awareness returned…" He spread his hands, "My very constitution had transformed."
"Was it this revelation that drove you to monastic life at Zhenyue Palace?"
"Not so." The young man shook his head. "The inclination existed long before. The tablet merely… crystallized my resolve."
The crimson specter’s attention shifted. "Guanyin’s enlightened novice," she addressed the blushing little bald boy.
"Amitābha. This humble monk is Huixin." The young monk pressed his palms together, ears flushing pink beneath his shaven scalp.
"Your cultivation eludes my perception."
"By Bodhisattva Guanyin’s grace," Huixin stammered, "I… I’ve reached Tier One." His discomfort in addressing the crowd manifested in trembling prayer hands.
"And you, child?" The Ghost in Red’s burning gaze settled on the fox-eared figure.
"I-I don’t know…" Hu Mei’s vulpine ears flattened as she shrank into herself.
"Respected elder," the teenager raised a tentative hand, "I’m actually… male."
Mingming’s eyes sparkled with revelation. "Oooh! Like Mama’s stories about cross-dressers!" The child leaned in, examining Hu Mei’s features. "But you’re clearly a pretty sis—"
Small hands flew to seal the imp’s mouth as Bai Ye intervened.
Across the courtyard, martial arts masters formed concentric circles around Chen Qingfeng. Eager challenges hung in the air – these lifelong devotees of combat arts buzzed with fresh purpose, having glimpsed martial arts’ ultimate potential.
"It’s not my fault!" Hu Mei’s ears quivered indignantly. "After last night’s changes, even male clothes get me accused of cross-dressing!" The vulpine streamer gestured helplessly at his transformed features.
Meanwhile, Lin Jing pressed his appeal: "Would you instruct them in spiritual energy manipulation?"
The Ghost in Red studied the petitioner before conceding, "Instruction I can provide. Retention…" Her scarlet sleeves fluttered dismissively. "That lies beyond my control."
*
"Director Yan, the requested files." Lin Jing deposited documents in the Special Bureau leader’s office.
Yan Hua massaged tired eyes. The past week’s perpetual crises showed in every bureaucrat’s face – even the director’s.
"Sit, Lin Jing." Yan Hua gestured with tea-stained papers. "We should speak."
The junior operative tensed. Director-level conversations rarely heralded good news.
"Our Bureau’s founding purpose," the director began, leafing through reports, "was resolving supernatural threats before public exposure – maintaining societal stability through discretion."
"Of course," Lin Jing nodded. "The central government’s mandate."
Yan Hua’s gaze sharpened. "Precisely. Which makes recent developments… concerning."
Although they belonged to a department shrouded in mystery dealing with enigmatic affairs, it fundamentally served the same purpose as other government institutions – maintaining social stability and public order.
"Do you consider them potential threats to societal stability?" Yan Hua lowered the document, though he had already reviewed the contents earlier; this version merely contained more detailed annotations.
Yan Hua had consistently opposed public disclosure of "supernatural events" and remained skeptical about the newly emerged "extraordinary individuals." If the Ghost in Red’s warnings proved accurate, the situation could escalate dangerously. The nation currently lacked proper mechanisms to regulate such people, leaving uncertainty about when they might transform into disruptive elements.
Lin Jing contemplated before responding, "Director, their numbers will likely grow exponentially. Our focus shouldn’t be on eliminating them."
"They remain citizens of Zhongxia. Before awakening their abilities, they were ordinary people under our protection."
"I grasp your concerns, but our projections indicate the Awakening of Spiritual Energy is irreversible. Our path lies in assimilation – integrating this phenomenon into societal frameworks."
"Extraordinary individuals differ from common citizens only when violating laws. Should crimes occur, that’s precisely why the Special Bureau exists."
"Here’s a tentative proposal: establishing extraordinary law enforcement officers within Division 1. With ongoing screening processes, deploying empowered individuals against superhuman crime seems viable."
Yan Hua’s apprehensions mirrored widespread anxieties. Yet in this transformed world, nations and individuals resisting adaptation faced inevitable obsolescence.
"Insightful suggestion. I’ll escalate this proposal," Yan Hua smiled faintly. His interest lay not in controlling empowered individuals, but mitigating their societal risks.
All considerations served national stability.
"We must not only create enforcement units but enhance oversight for all registered extraordinary individuals through systematic education."
"Education?" Lin Jing’s brow furrowed.
"Instruction aligned with socialist core values. Their moral philosophy should surpass ordinary standards," Yan Hua asserted, sudden clarity sharpening his tone.
"Lin Jing, you’re organizing lectures for the inaugural group?"
"Well… that’s the preliminary plan."
The sessions would essentially disseminate Special Bureau-compiled guidelines, supplemented by Ghost in Red’s practical training.
"Moral philosophy, legal education, patriotic education – all essential." Yan Hua scrawled titles across paper with brisk strokes.
Lin Jing glimpsed works like XXX Thought, XXX Theory, XXX Scientific Development Concept, and X Law… Was this bureaucratic indoctrination?
"Written examinations become mandatory for Division 1 candidates."
"Even non-applicants require certification to prevent Western heroism complexes," Yan Hua slid the document forward cheerfully. "You’ll oversee this, Lin Jing."
"Director, perhaps Division 1 should handle their own assessments?" Lin Jing’s eye twitched, regretting his earlier verbosity.
He’d doomed himself and unwitting colleagues. The reading list alone induced migraines – subordinates would need memorization drills.
"Schedule conflicts?" Yan Hua’s fingers drummed the desk.
"Our department’s overwhelmed with analytical workloads. Division 5’s comprehensive structure better accommodates assessment frameworks."
Lin Jing’s strained smile conveyed desperation to offload responsibility onto Division 5’s formidable leader.
"Compromise necessary then. I’ll consult Tang Tong. Moral cultivation remains paramount – swift implementation critical."
Lin Jing concealed relief. Designing exams guaranteed resentment from examinees – better others face the inevitable curses and hex dolls.
Resolved on extraordinary individuals policy, Yan Hua’s demeanor lightened.
"Review this." He passed another file. "Requires Analysis Department collaboration with Liang An’s team. Three-day deadline."
"Pardon?" Lin Jing unfolded the documents.
"A website?" His eyebrows arched in surprise.
"Three days from now, all nations will jointly announce and formally acknowledge the ‘Awakening of Spiritual Energy,’" Yan Hua gave a measured nod. "This website must become our nation’s official platform for extraordinary individuals. The core requirements are outlined here."
"The remaining details are at your discretion."
"Are we truly revealing the existence of enhanced humans?" Lin Jing struggled to fathom such boldness from the authorities.
"Full disclosure. The internet’s already overflowing with reports."
"Persistent silence would erode governmental trust. Containment is impossible."
Beyond hospital patients miraculously recovering, countless citizens had witnessed or experienced paranormal phenomena. Unrestrained guidance trumps suppression – embracing reality might yield unforeseen advantages.
With global announcements impending, Lin Jing realized his submitted report had practically confirmed overseas supernatural occurrences. The true mystery lay in how many nations would formally recognize the worldwide "anomalous phenomena" from that fateful dawn.
Did the government truly trust Young Monk Huixin’s prophecies? Believe this spiritual awakening merely heralded greater upheavals? Accept the monk’s ominous yet vague warnings about impending calamities?
*
The previous afternoon’s summit remained painfully vivid for every participating nation – save perhaps Zhongxia, who needed neither political crutches nor sycophantic alliances.
Conducted via encrypted video, the gathering united planet’s most powerful leaders.
Though every statesman projected stoic composure, beneath the surface…
Zhongxia: Our anomalous incidents match theirs. Foreign deities? Amaterasu? We’ve got Guanyin Bodhisattva.
France: Steady through Augustus’ Vatican connections. Our Holy City alliance secures advantage.
Kingdom of England: Our coven alliances hold firm. When Miss Ghost’s predicted sorcerers emerge, victory’s assured.
Bear Country: Panic? One Tsar Bomba solves most problems. Two settles the rest. Failing that, Yahweh makes decent backup.
United States: Why’s everyone so composed? Damn these poker-faced veterans with hidden aces! Three-century-old nation lacks proper myths – can’t exactly worship Feathered Serpent…
Vatican’s our ticket. They’ve got actual divine credentials.
The Vatican’s pontiff squinted drowsily, feigning inattention. His presence was ceremonial necessity after their undeniable miracle forced transparency.
Post-diplomatic niceties, leaders plunged into ruthless intelligence exchanges. The consensus: global disclosure within 72 hours.
With supernatural events proliferating worldwide from the spiritual awakening, proactive transparency outweighed unsustainable secrecy.
…
Ghost in Red paced the training room’s perimeter, observing meditating adepts and combat drills. An inexplicable agitation prickled her spectral senses.
"Absurd," she muttered, massaging translucent temples. "Post-death existence shouldn’t harbor such disquiet."
Fifteenth floor:
"Three days for website deployment? Impossible!" Liang An slammed Lin Jing’s documents, boots pounding frustration.
"Technical challenges aside, can your department even compile required data?"
"Existing archives cover 80%. Final compilation en route tonight." Lin Jing raised an eyebrow. "You seem… strained."
"Strained? I’m digitally crucified!" The engineer growled. "Filtering factual footage from viral hoaxes consumes my team’s waking hours."
"Three-day deadline stands. Now unless there’s more – get out."
The countdown commenced.
On the final day of October, Zhongxia’s official Central Television collaborated with Central News to broadcast a nationwide announcement regarding the Awakening of Spiritual Energy. The URL scrolled repeatedly across screens with meticulous care, ensuring maximum visibility.
Following Zhongxia’s declaration, nations across the globe swiftly issued their own official statements.
Weibo, the colossal interactive platform, exploded into chaos as "Zhongxia Spiritual Network" dominated the trending list.
The Spiritual Network, formally titled "Zhongxia Spiritual Energy Awakening Official Website," featured a minimalist interface. Beneath bold black characters against white at the page’s apex lay a column of subcategories to the right. A vertical banner showcasing the government’s latest update occupied the center, beneath which gleamed the freshly unveiled profiles of extraordinary individuals.
To channel public enthusiasm, the official portal incorporated a dedicated forum section:
【AHHHHHH! The Spiritual Energy Awakening’s here! Master, I beg to learn cultivation—!!!】
【When will our national authorities release cultivation techniques? This wait is killing me QAQ】
【Life demands spontaneous journeys! Preparing mountain expedition for mystical encounters—fellow seekers add me at 556154】
【The Ghost in Red in the database—STUNNINGLY GORGEOUS! I’M DECEASED!!!】
【White Night’s streamer dude = PERFECTION! Gender’s irrelevant when he’s THIS FINE AHHHH!】
【Claiming fox-girl waifu! Those ears! That tail! (≧∇≦)/】
【(✧ω✧) Ghost in Red sis! Wife material! Marry me pls!!!】
【"Calmly contemplating overnight cultivation"—PSYCHE! Qingfeng Taoist Priest! Teach me martial dao! (ﾉ_ _)ﾉ】
【SISTERS! Drop everything! Does Zhenyue Palace ordain female disciples? Obsessed with Li Canghai Taoist Priest!!!】
【LI CANGHAI TAOIST PRIEST EXISTS TO END ME! THAT FACE DESERVES CENTURIES OF WORSHIP!!! (>口<)】
【Young monk HuiXin! Baldness NEVER looked this ADORBS!!! Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ】
【Fox-girl admirer: Check the gender tag! It’s a cross-dresser…BUT STILL! Fox-dude, need a BF? 180cm/80kg/18cm here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)】
【(ﾟДﾟ) Has NO ONE noticed XIAO TIANJI made the list?! National authorities slay! But WHERE’S HIS PHOTO?!】
【SPOTTED XIAO TIANJI’S NEW WEIBO! FIRST COMMENT CLAIMED! [screenshot]】
"Quite the spectacle," she murmured, crimson lips curling.
Ghost in Red scrolled through the Spiritual Network’s frenzied forums on her Special Bureau-issued phone, her personal board overflowing with notifications. Though puzzled by some slang, she remained unfazed—until "Xiao Tianji" caught her eye. With a tap, she exited to Weibo.
Xiao Tianji’s profile radiated austerity. His latest post, two minutes old, already boasted nearly a million reposts and exploding comments.
——"Brushing iron armor to snow’s purity, wielding star-etched blade with casual certainty."
Why this particular verse? Ghost in Red’s brow furrowed. Wang Wei’s Tang dynasty poem—did layers of meaning lurk beneath?
