Chapter 82: Bai Liqing's Judgment
Eileen always felt that Yu Sheng had an endless supply of strange ideas, and he was always motivated enough to turn those outrageous notions into reality—she’d been convinced of that from the moment he pulled those two lotus roots out of the drawer.
Compared to “cutting a piece of meat off a real body to taste how salty it is” and “trying to make a body for a puppet out of lotus roots,” trying to grow some vegetables in the now-calmed foreign domain actually didn’t seem that outrageous.
After walking around the valley a bit more and confirming the existence of the “spatial boundary” from the other side, Yu Sheng and his group of three decided to temporarily return to the real world.
Passing through the gate, the familiar living room and warm, bright lights came into view. Outside the window, the night was still deep. Standing in front of the living room window, Yu Sheng felt a moment of disorientation.
“It’s still daytime over there,” Eileen said, climbing onto the windowsill and craning her neck to look outside. “I forgot it’s still night here.”
“After that thing you call the ‘Gloomy Angel’ left, it seems like the whole valley has been stuck in daytime,” Yu Sheng nodded. “We were there for a long time and didn’t see the light change at all.”
“There’s not even a sun over there; where the light comes from is a mystery,” Eileen said, hopping from the windowsill onto Yu Sheng and then nimbly climbing down his leg to the floor, chatting casually as she moved. “If that’s the case, shouldn’t it be called ‘Daylight Valley’ instead…”
Yu Sheng’s eyelid twitched as he watched Eileen’s smooth, natural climbing. “Hey, aren’t you a little too skilled at that climbing?”
“Huh? Am I?” Eileen looked up, completely unashamed. “Maybe practice makes perfect?”
Yu Sheng’s mouth twitched, as if he wanted to say more, but just then the sudden ring of a phone interrupted his thoughts.
He pulled out his phone and saw Bai Liqing’s name without surprise.
“I’ll take this call,” Yu Sheng said to Eileen and Hu Li, walking with the phone to the dining room.
The moment he answered, before he could even greet her, he heard Bai Liqing’s calm voice through the receiver: “Back?”
The tone was so flat that for an instant Yu Sheng had the illusion that she was sitting right in the living room, watching him with her eyes.
“Uh, I’m back,” Yu Sheng felt an inexplicable awkwardness. “You guys had some… ‘activity’ again, huh?”
“Mm, we’re used to it,” Bai Liqing said lightly, cutting straight to the chase. “So, you saw ‘Nightfall Valley’? What’s its current status?”
“I saw it,” Yu Sheng immediately steadied himself, then suddenly asked a question before continuing his answer. “Sounds like you can’t keep track of it—doesn’t the Special Affairs Bureau have technical means to search or enter various foreign domains?”
There were two seconds of silence on the other end of the line.
“It’s failed,” Bai Liqing said, surprising Yu Sheng by answering his question frankly after the pause. “We actually tried sending investigators after the ‘Hunger’ incident, but they couldn’t find Nightfall Valley.”
“Couldn’t find it?” Yu Sheng instinctively caught the phrasing. “What does that mean? Not that they couldn’t enter, but that they couldn’t locate it?”
“Yes, literally. From the perspective of all the Special Affairs Bureau’s ‘routine detection methods,’ Nightfall Valley has disappeared,” Bai Liqing said. “So when I heard that you could not only find it but also freely enter that foreign domain, I was quite surprised.”
Yu Sheng thought about it and realized he had never detected any “surprise” from that expressionless woman, but he did appreciate Bai Liqing’s frankness. “Well, let me tell you what I found. First, I think that place needs a name change. After that thing you call the ‘Gloomy Angel’ left, the whole valley hasn’t had a ‘nightfall’ since. I think that might be its original state.
“Second, based on my observations, Entity-Hunger is gone. Permanently, I think.”
Yu Sheng could clearly hear a sharp intake of breath and a suppressed gasp from the other end.
He could sense her “surprise” now.
A moment later, Bai Liqing’s slightly quicker voice reached his ears. “I want to confirm—did you just say ‘permanently gone’? Do you… understand the operating rules of entities and foreign domains? No offense, it’s just a genuine question.”
“I know—as long as the foreign domain exists, the entity is immortal. But Entity-Hunger really is gone, and from what I can tell, the nature of that valley has changed too. I don’t have your professional equipment, but I think… in a broad sense, ‘Nightfall Valley’ as a foreign domain should also be considered gone. What’s left is just a calm, unusual space. Can you understand what I mean? It’s like…”
Yu Sheng got stuck for a moment, unsure how to describe it, but soon he heard Bai Liqing’s voice from the receiver—
“An empty shell left after being eaten clean, is that it?”
Yu Sheng blinked. He hadn’t even thought of such an accurate description himself.
He had actually hidden a lot of details, including the specifics of how he triggered the ‘Feast,’ his connection to the valley, the various changes his blood could cause, and the slow emergence of ‘life’ in that valley right now. The intelligence Bai Liqing had mainly came from reports Li Lin and Xu Jiali had sent back, but clearly…
The director of the Special Affairs Bureau possessed remarkable sharpness and judgment.
“About this ‘empty shell,’” Bai Liqing’s voice came again, “the Special Affairs Bureau hopes to send someone to conduct an on-site investigation. Of course, that requires your help and consent.”
Yu Sheng hesitated for a moment.
It wasn’t that he felt any hostility or wariness toward the Special Affairs Bureau—at least so far, he had no unpleasant experiences with anyone there. But people always have an instinct to keep secrets, and that valley was now very closely tied to him.
Bai Liqing naturally noticed this brief hesitation.
“You can take your time considering. We won’t force you. If you’re willing to open the gate, we can accept your designation of investigators, as well as set the number and time limits, and you can supervise the whole process,” Bai Liqing said patiently, still with that detached, flat tone, but she seemed to be trying hard to show sincerity and goodwill. “We just want to collect some key data. After all—this is unprecedented. The first true ‘elimination’ of a foreign domain and entity in history. I’m sure you understand what that means to people like us.”
With her saying all that, Yu Sheng really couldn’t refuse outright. “Alright, I’ll think it over in the next couple of days.”
…
Song Cheng, watching Bai Liqing on the phone by the window, couldn’t help whispering to the slightly balding, somewhat pudgy middle-aged man beside him. “Hey, Director Wu, do you think the director has ever been this easygoing before?”
“You’re asking me? You deal with the director far more than I do,” the man called Director Wu lowered his voice even more. “You know our Information Center—usually like a transparent department, only getting some presence during summary meetings. Your action department even calls us ‘server room troglodytes’…”
Song Cheng snorted. “That’s actually pretty fitting.”
Director Wu glanced at him, then cautiously looked up at Bai Liqing, still on the phone. “Come to think of it… this is the first time I’ve seen the director talk to someone so amiably, and with the patience to go on for so long—is that ‘Yu Sheng’ really that important?”
“Not important—he’s just bizarre,” Song Cheng shrugged. “Your entire department has been working nonstop until now—haven’t you gotten a deep sense of that yet?”
“…Don’t even mention it.”
Song Cheng pulled the corner of his mouth, about to tease a little more, when suddenly a chill ran down his back. He snapped to attention instantly.
A calm, pressure-filled gaze had already landed on him.
“Entity-Hunger has permanently disappeared.”
Those flat words from Bai Liqing made all the random thoughts in Song Cheng’s mind vanish with a bang, leaving only an echoing “Huh?” reverberating like a great bell in his heart.
He opened his mouth but couldn’t think of what to say for a long time.
“When your two agents get back from leave, arrange for them to have more contact with Yu Sheng,” Bai Liqing continued, ignoring Song Cheng’s stunned expression. “Yu Sheng has human emotions and behavioral logic. His emotional reactions are genuine. We need someone to build relatively stable trust and friendly relations with him. Your two agents did well. Also, send someone to 66 Wutong Road tomorrow to deliver the registration form—be careful about who you pick. Don’t choose someone who treats foreign domains and entities with bitter hatred and alarm. Find someone sharp and likable.”
Song Cheng finally snapped out of it. “Yes, Director.”
Bai Liqing nodded, then her gaze shifted to the slightly balding, pudgy middle-aged man beside them.
He was the head of the Special Affairs Bureau’s Information Center.
“What’s the situation on your end?” she asked.
“We’ve checked every possibility. At least at the system level, there’s no reason for such a bug,” Director Wu quickly adjusted his stance. “We also tried deleting Yu Sheng’s file and re-registering it, but all operations failed. Those entries seem to ‘float’ in the database—unable to be called or modified, and they generate no error messages. Honestly… if the system doesn’t alarm, I’m about to.”
“Alarming might be less useful than bringing in the professors from the College to take a look. The incense they use to soothe machine spirits and their binary prayers are perfect for handling this kind of bizarre issue,” Song Cheng said from the side. “Last time, Fourth Battalion’s transport vehicle got depressed, and they fixed it.”
“I’ll contact Terra and have them send someone over to check,” Bai Liqing nodded lightly. “But if the College’s professors can’t handle it, then we’ll drop the matter. In short, starting today, stop trying to modify any of Yu Sheng’s data in the filing system.”
“Yes, Director.”