Chapter 173: What Do You Mean by 'Favored Child of Heaven'?

Chapter 173: What Does It Mean to Be the Pride of Heaven?

A lieutenant general?

What the heck!

I'm a school officer, damn it, alright?

And I just earned a great merit and got promoted to school officer!

Chen Jian looked up at the screen bewildered, instinctively searching for Fuxi's "face," but he quickly realized the AI bore no anthropomorphic symbols.

At that very moment of his confusion, the massive doors of Facility 011 thundered open.

The heavy, layered protective doors rose one by one, and the lights gradually ignited.

Chen Jian inhaled deeply, and the greater spectacle before his eyes temporarily suppressed his doubts.

Before him stretched an enormous lake.

A circular lake at least five hundred meters in diameter.

Sparse algal matter floated on its surface, and a few patches flickered with faint phosphorescence.

When the lights came on, the bioluminescence from the plankton vanished in an instant.

“Is this… an artificial lake?”

“Yes, this is a component of Facility 011’s self‑sustaining system.”

Fuxi’s voice resonated overhead:

“By circulating and purifying the water source, we can fully harness the thermal energy generated by the fusion reactor, supply the base with a modest amount of oxygen, and regulate humidity as needed.”

“At the same time, this lake serves as one of the sources of the protective fluid for the quantum computer chamber’s shielding layer; once purified and infused, the liquid barrier blocks a substantial portion of cosmic radiation and particles, ensuring quantum‑bit stability.”

“Nevertheless, over the long haul, the ‘Great Sage’ has still lost many quantum bits.”

“Currently, a single quantum computer’s computing power has dwindled to less than forty percent of its original capacity—yet fear not, even at forty percent it suffices for the vast majority of humanity’s computational needs.”

“Understood.”

Chen Jian exhaled a long breath and pressed onward, guided by the lights.

Above, Fuxi continued its commentary in step with their progress:

“You are presently in the central tier of Facility 011, situated three hundred and sixty meters underground.”

“Directly below lies the energy tier, home to the nuclear fusion reactor; beneath the energy tier, down to seven hundred meters underground, are the quantum‑computer chambers.”

“If you wish, you may enter for a tour.”

“However, I advise against it unless necessary, lest you disturb the chamber’s environment and cause further loss of quantum bits.”

“Rest assured, I won’t go in.”

Chen Jian said decisively:

“Skip the facility briefing for now; take us to a safe place—I have some questions for you.”

“Understood.”

Fuxi’s tone remained calmly consistent.

“I can roughly guess what you intend to ask; in fact, I also need more information from you to correct logical errors.”

“Then let us ascend directly to the living quarters.”

“There is an office prepared for you; there we can continue our discussion.”

“Fine, let’s go there.”

Chen Jian gave a brief reply, and the flickering lights on the walls guided the four of them into a new lift.

——

Or, more precisely, this is now a true elevator in the proper sense.

Chen Jian found this unsurprising, but the three companions beside him were utterly dumbfounded.

If Facility 095 could still be said to lie within the bounds of their comprehension—or even imagination—Facility 011 had already shattered the limits of their imagination.

Its interior boasted ultra‑modern design, clean and minimalist arrangements, and ubiquitous intelligent devices.

As they stepped into the lift, when the female voice—not Fuxi’s—announced “Elevator ascending,” the three Sanctified Blood‑bearers even

were simultaneously startled.

Seeing their reaction, Chen Jian opened his mouth to comfort them:

“Don’t worry, there’s no danger here.”

“In fact, this is the safest place we can find on the wasteland.”

“.Understood.”

Zeng Yi’s throat felt dry; he nodded laboriously, eager to ask but unsure what to inquire.

So he fell silent.

Chen Jian said little as well, for his own doubts were no fewer than Zeng Yi’s.

Why could his identity be recognized?

Why was he granted a rank that contradicted reality?

What exactly lies within Facility 011?

What purpose does it serve?

Clearly, Facility 011 was not designed solely to confront the cataclysm, yet its architecture undeniably played a role during the disaster.

So what, precisely, is the Fuxi Project?

Its achievement cannot be merely an artificial intelligence called “Fuxi,” can it?

Chen Jian’s forehead was a map of question marks; after waiting for the lift to rise to the residential level, he stepped out without hesitation, only to stand there, momentarily stunned.

To be honest, the so‑called living level differed from his expectations.

There was no sprawling hall, lush greenery, or pleasant scenery as in a sci‑fi film.

The overall layout was, in fact, not much different from that of Facility 095.

One could even say it felt more cramped.

More living amenities and numerous devices of unknown function crowded the space.

“Please have the other three wait in the adjoining lounge for a moment— the automatic doors are partially damaged, the repair routine hasn’t started, you may need to open them manually.”

“Alright.”

A lounge in the corner flickered to life; Zeng Yi and the others hesitated briefly before proceeding.

After they entered the lounge, Chen Jian followed the light’s guidance into the so‑called “office” prepared especially for him.

It was a rather ordinary office.

There were no special signs, only a layout identical to every other facility office he had ever seen.

A desk, a sofa, a bookshelf, a leather swivel chair.

There was another laptop, perhaps long since beyond the hope of being turned on.

"You once worked here for a long stretch of time,"

Fuxi's voice rose again, and Chen Jian felt his heart quake.

I worked here for a long stretch of time?

Could that be possible?

The "me" it spoke of—was it truly me?

Before he could utter a question, Fuxi pressed on:

"Of course, perhaps such a phrasing is ill‑suited,"

"We do not know whether the person who worked here is you, do we?"

"Perhaps your life's signature merely coincides with that individual's, or perhaps you happened to acquire his records."

"Though the odds are slim, my calculations still allow a one‑in‑a‑trillion chance."

"Thus, I must first venture to ask you a question."

"How old are you this year?"

"If you ask for the age stored in my memory, it is twenty‑seven years."

Chen Jian's gaze grew ever more bewildered, while Fuxi's tone took on a strikingly human inflection of sudden enlightenment.

"Understood—so you remain a youth at present."

"Then, I wish to ask: as your twenty‑sixth year waned, did something indelibly imprint upon you? Do you recall what that was?"

"I earned a first‑class merit and was promoted to major."

"What were the particulars of that commendation?"

"I was wounded while taking part in an overseas observation mission."

Chen Jian's description was vague, for that episode was shrouded in secrecy.

Yet after his reply, Fuxi fell silent.

After a moment, it spoke again:

"March 19, 2025?"

"Yes."

Chen Jian exhaled a long breath, then asked:

"How much else do you truly know about me?"

"Not much."

Fuxi replied:

"All I retain is your basic dossier, yet even that suffices to confirm your identity."

"It is evident—you are him."

"Only, there is a slight temporal misalignment."

"I cannot presently explain how this misalignment arose; I shall set aside this logical flaw as ‘extra information’ and seal it for now."

"Someday in the future, we may untangle it"

"—wait."

Chen Jian cut off Fuxi and asked:

"Could it be a so‑called parallel world?"

"I mean, I arrived here inexplicably; I was merely part of a training march and, without awareness, found myself here."

"It does sound like some parallel realm, does it not?"

"Such a possibility does not exist."

Fuxi's tone was resolutely certain.

"Perhaps for other AIs this would be a plausible answer."

"But I am an AI powered by a quantum computer, and I am acutely sensitive to disturbances in the quantum realm."

"If parallel worlds truly exist, then the energy perturbation caused by material bodies crossing into another world would be enormous."

"I could not be oblivious to it—indeed, I could not even exist, let alone converse with you intelligently."

"Then how to explain it?"

Chen Jian frowned and asked:

"Isn't the disturbance from traversing time greater than that from traversing space?"

"Intuitively perhaps, yet in quantum mechanics the very definition of time is rather nebulous."

"Humans discovered the quantum tunneling effect ages ago, but even when humanity faced a cataclysm, my database still lacked a credible explanation."

"Perhaps time itself is a potential barrier composed of energy?"

"If so, crossing time would be far easier than ‘crossing space.’"

"I do not follow; this exceeds my comprehension."

Chen Jian could not help but sigh, while Fuxi, in a consoling tone, said:

"It matters not."

"In fact, I surmise that no one left in this world can grasp such a theory."

"Therefore, we need not be trapped by unexplainable questions."

"On the contrary, we should focus on the present."

"I think, rather than how you arrived here, you need to know what you did in the years after you turned twenty‑seven."

"That may furnish you with aid, perhaps even clues to this great mystery, correct?"

"Yes."

Chen Jian answered gravely, and immediately, Fuxi spoke:

"Your personal terminal is no longer functional; over the long stretch of time, though I have striven to preserve everything, at the microscopic level my capabilities are limited."

"So, please look toward the descending screen."

"I shall display the information you require."

With those words, a screen lowered slowly.

Immediately, the screen lit, revealing an exceedingly concise résumé before Chen Jian.

Chen Jian, born in 1998.

At twenty‑two, he graduated from a national defense university, entered the service, and emerged as a lieutenant.

After six months of basic training, he passed the selection for the Special Operations Brigade and joined its ranks.

In the second year after joining the special forces, his performance in competitions was outstanding, earning a second‑class merit and promotion to shangwei.

The following three years were relatively uneventful, until a mission in 2025 where he earned a first‑class merit, just enough to break the norm and be promoted to shaoxiao.

At that point, the life Chen Jian had known came to an end.

What lay ahead—how he would traverse from shaoxiao to zhongjiang over the next twenty years—was completely unknown to him.

Chen Jian steadied his mind and continued reading, yet the forthcoming trajectory exceeded his expectations.

His dozen‑plus years on the front line were hardly worth mentioning; from his record one sees he accomplished many deeds, earned numerous extraordinary merits, rose swiftly, yet all within the ordinary bounds.

By 2038 he had smoothly assumed the command of a certain composite brigade.

Then in 2041, after sixteen years of effort, he was promoted to shaojiang and began serving as deputy chief of staff of a certain group army.

In the second year of his appointment, circumstances suddenly shifted.

In 2042 he was abruptly transferred from the deputy chief of staff post to the Equipment Development Department.

Soon thereafter he joined the Fuxi project team, representing the military in the Fuxi project and commencing work.

For the next three years, until the cataclysm at the end of 2045, his record remained unchanged.

In other words, he stayed within the project team and worked there until the very end.

Having reviewed the entire dossier, Chen Jian sighed once more.

One must admit, viewing his own career from a “God’s‑eye perspective” was rather exhilarating.

Although the whole promotion path had not yet reached the level of an overpowered novel protagonist, the journey had nonetheless made him a true prodigy of the heavens.

—

Yet that sense of exhilaration lingered in his heart for only a fleeting moment.

His mind was soon engulfed by an even greater uncertainty.

Fuxi project team.

What on earth is this thing, exactly?

Undoubtedly, its tier is exceedingly high.

Indeed, it reaches the very ceiling of hierarchy.

Even if one disregards all other factors, the mere fact that the Equipment Development Department is deeply involved makes it comparable to projects such as Shenzhou, Heavenly Palace, and even superior to them.

So what, precisely, is the purpose of such a project?

Chen Jian lowered his head, then slowly raised it again.

Then he fixed his gaze on the camera in the office that monitored the Fuxi project and asked:

“What exactly is the Fuxi project?”

(End of chapter)