Chapter 142: The Rumors Are True

“An entropy model can stabilize at most a few dozen square meters of land. Do you realize what that means?”
Beside the table, another imposing figure nodded.
“Indeed, that is precisely why this meeting has been convened. Captain Jiazi of the Goods Transport Squad, am I correct?”
The crowd’s gaze shifted between Yang Zicang and the heads of several large sheds. The owners of these medium and small sheds, or their representatives attending the meeting, looked at the few figures around the wooden table in shock.
A lean, square-faced man at the edge raised his hand and said:
“I used to be a geography teacher. I want to remind you that thirty to forty li in radius is just its rough area; as for the sloping hillsides and even the caves within, their surface areas expand when unfolded, much like a wrinkled piece of paper…”
Upon saying this, he seemed startled by the number that had casually popped into his head, and added hesitantly, with a hint of concern:
“Such a vast area—the number of Lost Thought Models needed—would be astronomical to you lot.”
“I’ve run the numbers; even calculating at the minimum of forty square meters, the amount required would be…”
Someone looked angrily at Yuan Long and interrupted him:
“Do you know what that means?! Do you have any idea what each Lost Thought Model means?!”
“Calm down.”
Two men from the crowd pulled that person back a bit. Another person said:
“But he’s not wrong. Although forty square meters is just the minimum stability area per model, and better ones cover more ground, those mountains are still far beyond what we can stabilize.”
“We don’t need to stabilize everything—we can just stabilize two or three mountains and the zones of value within them.”
“So that’s why we’re pooling funds to set up a shared shed area?”
A shed owner raised a hand to motion for calm, speaking in a deep, measured voice:
“Actually, if it’s a triangle model, the stable area can reach hundreds of square meters. Let’s first calculate how many Abandoned Mind models each shed area can offer. I’ll start—I can provide seven thousand models, that’s everything from our shed area.”
People from some of the smaller shed areas were instantly stunned.
Throwing out seven thousand right off the bat meant that seven thousand individuals had once existed. This was both unimaginable and a sorrowful fact for them.
“Don’t be surprised. Half of them were collected by everyone scavenging outside and turned in. Each large shed has a population of several thousand, and even if each person contributes one, it would be a huge number. Some of them were obtained through trade, but actually, there are also several hundred Abandoned Mind models generated after natural deaths.”
“In reality, if human skeletons kept accumulating throughout history, they would long ago have been enough to build another planet. These models are the accumulation of many years, layered over time, which is why they seem so numerous to you. At its peak, our shed area had even more than this.”
“You… all of you…”
A person beside the wooden table turned to look at the startled and angry people from the small shed behind him, smiling somewhat self-deprecatingly:
“Our shed area is about the same. If everyone truly intends to carry out this plan, we could offer even more.”
“My god, I feel like I’m in hell.”
“Something like that. In a world of longevity, there must be crueler rules.”
The crowd fell silent, a chill seeping through them all.
Yang Zicang let out a faint sigh. He could not find a chance to speak in this situation, nor did he want to.
People’s eyes shifted among the few big shed owners. One of them said:
“But even that won’t be enough—even if everyone here… contributes, it won’t be enough, far from it.”
The crowd buzzed with discussion, while the dome masters at the table knew that Yuanlong was the one who had proposed this.
Their gazes turned to Yuanlong.
Yuanlong’s eyes fell on the bright sky outside the dim room.
“No rush. There’s still half a year.”
“Half a year?”
Some people paused for a moment, then tensed up. They looked at Yuanlong. Was this dome master of Lijiang Dome thinking along those lines?!
“Will you be able to gather enough in half a year?”
The geography teacher spoke with a hint of indignation:
“Do you realize that your proposal would require paving every inch of ground with countless dead bodies to keep that beautiful forest you mentioned?”
“I know.”
Faced with such a calm response, the man was momentarily speechless. Another person took over and asked:
“So what do you plan to do? Scrounge up millions of lost-thought molds in half a year? That’s a pipe dream!”
Yangzicang, pondering by the table, also felt this was too idealistic, utterly unrealistic, and simply impossible.
Meanwhile, a few dome masters at the table were either stroking their chins or muttering as if calculating something. Yangzicang listened closely—two of them were murmuring about how many lost-thought molds within what area a population of five thousand could collect in a week, and how many model crystals three thousand people could pick up once winter was over.
A slight tightness gripped Yangzicang’s chest. Were there even that many lost-thought molds out there for them to collect?
Yuanlong’s finger tapped lightly on the table.
“By next spring, we should be able to gather plenty of model crystals. Remember, it’s summer now, and our nights are already cool. When winter comes…”
“A medium-sized shed area… might have several thousand…”
“The winter chill is too much for many to bear. You… you have that kind of plan?!”
Around the three wooden tables, the heads of various shed areas sat in silence. Those behind them, on two or three rings of small stools, changed expression drastically, and those standing farther back immediately erupted in uproar.
“You beast!”
“Which shed area are you from, you bastard, saying something like that?”
“He’s the head of Lijiang Big Shed.”
The crowd’s clamor nearly lifted the roof.
“Enough!” Yuan Kun slammed the table and stood up with a bang. He hadn’t taken part in the discussion before and had only now learned the plan of this meeting. Though shocked inside, he grasped Yuanlong’s plan in an instant.
Yuan Kun took a deep breath and swept his fierce gaze over those around him.
Though some averted their eyes, refusing to meet his, others glared angrily at him, as if eager to turn their fury his way.
“Which shed area are you from?”
“I…” Yuan Kun glanced at Wang Xin, who stared at him with a livid face, then continued:
“You all raise this commotion—will winter not come then? Will those snowfalls not fall? How many of you here have lived through a winter here? Do you even know what winter is like here? It’s a chill that continuously drains your lifespan the moment you step outside!”
“Ha, so that’s it, we freeze to death, and then you lot can go stabilize these so-called mountain forests?”
“Exactly!” Yuan Kun shouted back at that man.
The man’s eyes instantly bulged with rage as he pointed a finger at Yuan Kun, but he was so angry that words failed him. After all, what the other party said was true—whether angry or not, that event would still happen.
“Heh, wait until people freeze to death, then use their de-frequency models to stabilize your forests? Heh, ha, pitiful, laughable humans.”
The head of the Worry-Free Trade Zone spoke up:
“But with this stretch of forest, at least many fewer people will die in the next winter.”
As those words fell, the hum of the nightmare exhaust fans in the room grew increasingly clear.
Wispy strands of cool breeze stirred the air, making the slightly stuffy atmosphere inside feel a little less suffocating.
The small light orb wobbled by the ceiling.
“Um,” Yang Zicang spoke softly, “the topic of this meeting is handled by Yuanlong, the shed master of Lijiang Greenhouse. Those responsible who wish to participate in this shed’s area are to stay; the rest are dismissed.”
With that said, he felt an urgent, scalding desire to leave immediately, as if his body were on fire.
“Wait, Team Leader of the Jiazi Shed Cargo Team.” Wang Xin by the table suddenly spoke up. She looked at Yang Zicang while gesturing toward Yuan Kun and asked, “May I ask, do you know this man?”
Yang Zicang nodded slightly.
“Of course. Team Leader Yuan Kun, who is primarily responsible for your shed area’s trade with the Kongshan Shed, was the first person I got to know when I started doing business here. He’s a good man. As a member of the Huanghun Shed, he even helped order limited-edition incense pills for Kongshan Shed when I first arrived.”
Wang Xin took a deep breath, her chest heaving.
So many people had come to trade here lately, yet few were remembered by name by Yang Zicang. Some in the room cast envious glances at Yuan Kun.
She let out a cold laugh, then turned her head to look at the sturdy man who was awkwardly settling back into his seat.
“Friend, don’t you have something to say?”
Beside Yuan Kun, in Zhang Ao’s sensory projection, the Lord of Kongshan Shed asked suspiciously:
{Master Zhang, did you know something in advance? Did Team Leader Yuan cause trouble over there?}
[No, no, Shed Lord. I only just found out myself. It seems the major client’s cargo team has mistaken our cargo team leader for someone from Huanghun Shed. I’m not clear on the details.]
The Shed Lord’s face on the opposite end of the sensory projection immediately turned cold.
Fine beads of sweat formed on Yuan Kun’s forehead. He felt as if he had fallen back into the mental illusion radiating from that major client’s cargo team leader.
“Um… Team Leader Jia, I…”
Suddenly, the small light cluster flew down.
{Your reputation is growing, huh.}
“I…”
The little fairy drew closer, staring into his wide eyes.
{Go on~ say it, and you’ll be famous this week.}
The eyes of everyone in the room, along with the onlookers crowding the doorway, were fixed on this burly and solid man standing by the table, his hands resting on the wooden surface. Although he had the physique of a sports student, at this moment he looked like a schoolboy who had done something wrong.
“I!” Yuan Kun’s face flushed bright red. His trembling gaze shifted to the small hand of the fairy floating before him.
The pen, hardly thicker than his leg hair, was resting on crumpled white paper, seemingly awaiting his words. Those tiny eyes emitted encouragement from this little creature.
The crowd pressed in slightly closer.
“You, what?” Zhang Ao tilted his head, chin lifted. “Spit it out. The shed master and everyone are waiting.”
Gulp. Yuan Kun swallowed hard. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and, as if about to confess something shameful, said word for word:
“Sorry. I’m from the Kongshan Shed people.”
A line flickered, and the familiar voice emerged:
{You are not anymore.}
Yuan Kun thought a silent, “Ah,” to himself.
Swoosh, swoosh—the little fairy dashed down a record.
Those around stared back in a mute, puzzled silence. After waiting so long for such a cryptic statement, they couldn’t help snorting with a derisive “pfft.”
Wang Xin looked at Yang Zicang, whose face twitched, and apologized:
“I’m sorry, I heard rumors earlier that when the market first opened, our Dusk Shed was extorting protection money from the large client convoy team. I thought it was just gossip.”
She raised her finger like a sword, pointing straight at Yuan Kun.
“Unexpectedly, today I’ve found out—I’m afraid it’s not just a rumor. Whatever your intentions, I, Wang Xin, state here clearly: it was people from this Kong Mountain Shed impersonating us!”
“Huh? What the heck?” The crowd’s eyes all landed back on Yuan Kun at once.
“There’s something like that happening?”
The room buzzed with murmurs.
“So the one in the legend who got beaten up with a few lute players… it’s him?”
“The Kong Mountain Shed impersonated the Dusk Shed to collect protection money?”
Yuan Kun sank into silence, feeling as if all sorts of ants were crawling all over him.
The spirit inside the small light cluster swayed, rising with satisfaction.
{Congratulations, your fame value has reached 10.}
“……”