Rebirth: Starting from Lighting Up the Tech Tree

Zuo Cheng sat on the port's porch for a very long time. So long that he lost count of how many people he had asked the same question, and whether they had given him any unexpected answers. Few people visited today; only a few ordinary web-weaving consciousnesses made sure the door was still open and then left. As evening approached, the quantum light flow in the port slowed slightly compared to usual—not a malfunction, but rather the central control automatically conserving energy during a low-load period. Zuo Cheng prepared to call it a day.

Then a shadow appeared at the end of the corridor.

It wasn't a projection of consciousness, nor the natural formation of a web-like consciousness entity; it was a walking shadow, taking steps one by one along the corridor outside the quantum light flow. Zuo Cheng had seen many forms of visitors, but he was very familiar with the rhythm of this shadow's walk. He stood up from the porch.

The person walked from the end of the corridor to the porch, and the light from the quantum light stream shone directly on her face after completing a full circle.

Han Lu said, "I came here just to be asked the same question by you again."

Zuo Cheng stood still. He stared at Han Lu for a long time. This woman, whom he had known since the incubator days, had given him report after report over the decades, and had kept watch over a lamp in the control center for countless years, dimming it slightly every night before leaving, just enough to see the golden mark on the star map. She handed over the lamp when she retired. Today, she stood in front of the home port porch, the real her standing here.

Zuo Cheng sat down again. He said, "What are you doing here?"

Han Lu said, "Let me hear you ask again. Every time you asked me what my goals were for the next quarter, or how long this light would stay on, or if the soy milk was still warm enough, you weren't asking about business goals, the lifespan of the light bulb, or the soy milk. You were making sure everyone who could be on this path was there before each journey. I'm not here to be confirmed, but to let you know that when you stood in front of the incubator's whiteboard saying we were doing something different, I was there. I wasn't the earliest founder; I was the first person to walk in."

Han Lu paused. The quantum optical flow had circled halfway again today. She continued, "When I retired, I spent most of my life writing flight paths in the telemetry and control log. I went downstairs and sat under the osmanthus tree for a long time. I've been thinking about something for a long time, and once I figured it out, I came to tell you. Today I want to ask, is that enough? Have you finished doing these different things?"

Zuo Cheng didn't answer immediately. He reached for the porch log beside him, twirled the pen between his fingers, and then put it down. He asked Han Lu, "What do you think?"

Han Lu said, "I don't think so, I know. What you did wasn't just one thing, it was turning all the different things into the everyday. The end point of these different things isn't completion, it's turning them into daily soy milk, daily navigation lights, and daily routines. I don't need confirmation, I just want to tell you, it's enough. Not that it's enough, it's that you've spent most of your life getting to this point, and it's enough. I know you sit at the port entrance all day, asking countless people what you're doing here. You're not just asking them, you're asking yourself too. Today I'm here to answer you, Zuo Cheng. You sit on the port entrance because you're waiting for a moment that doesn't need confirmation. That moment isn't anything, it's me standing here now saying, 'It's enough.'"

After Han Lu finished speaking, the porch remained quiet for a long time. The quantum light stream slowly circled the wall outside the door a few times, casting arcs of light and shadow on the ground. Zuo Cheng remained seated, his hand on the cover of the porch logbook, not opening it. Then he spoke.

He said, "Han Lu, do you remember when you wrote 'Do something different' on the incubator's whiteboard and drew an ellipsis next to it?"

Han Lu was silent for a few seconds, then said, "I remember." The ellipsis meant she hadn't finished writing it; she hadn't decided what to add after it.

Zuo Cheng said, "Back then, you added 'yourself' after the ellipsis. Not the founder, but the first person to walk in. When you entered that room, you were holding the first financing report, the edges crumpled from your grip, but you didn't even notice. You didn't say you were there to discuss cooperation; you said you'd heard about us and wanted to take a look. After looking at it, you didn't leave. You sat on that broken chair for an entire afternoon. You didn't say anything, but the next day you came with a test account for Blue Bay Communications. You said, 'Try this, it's free.'"

Han Lu said that she used that account for a long time afterward.

Zuo Cheng said, "I've spent most of my life here. Today you've come all the way from Earth to our home port, and you tell me it's enough. It's not that it's not enough, it's that your presence here is enough. Not just enough, it's more than enough. Okay."

Han Lu smiled. It was a soft smile, exactly the same smile she had years ago when she was on night shift at the tracking and control center, seeing the first trajectory data of the Xinghai satellite—a smile of exhaustion but contentment. She said, "I'm going back. There's still soy milk on Blue Star; it's not cold yet."

Zuo Cheng asked, "When did you arrive?"

Han Lu said she didn't time it; she came via a consciousness portal. Before coming, she had prepared the soy milk and placed it on the table without covering it. She said the temperature was just right when she returned.

Zuo Cheng didn't see her off. He sat on the porch, watching Han Lu turn and walk back down the corridor. Her footsteps were the same as when she was on night shift at the control center, unhurried and unhurried. She stood at the end of the corridor for a moment, without turning back, before disappearing into the dim light of the consciousness channel.

Zuo Cheng flipped to today's visitor registration page and wrote in the remarks column, "Last visitor today. Han Lu. From Blue Star, a real person. She came for the first face-to-face confirmation in decades on the porch. She just came to tell me, 'That's enough.' I asked her, 'Do you remember the ellipsis on the incubator whiteboard back then?' She said the ellipsis meant it wasn't finished. I said, 'Back then, you added yourself after the ellipsis. Not the founder, but the first person to walk in.' That's enough. Not just enough, but more than enough. Okay. She went back; Blue Star still has soy milk, not cold yet."

He closed the journal. The quantum light stream of the home port had completed another cycle. The leaf near the root of the Weaving Tree was still there, recording Han Lu's thoughts when she handed over the lamp. Today, that leaf had an extra halo of light, not new data, but a slight glow from when Han Lu entered the porch, recognizing her consciousness field.

Zuo Cheng sat on the porch for a while. He flipped back to the notes section at the very bottom of the porch log and added a line at the very end: Han Lu came today. She was the first person I met at the incubator. Today, after retiring, she came to the home port again. There were decades between her and Zuo Weiyang, but she taught Zuo Weiyang more than anyone else. "The light won't go out" was what she said; "The oldest way for humans to navigate is with a light" was something she wrote in a secret letter. When she retired, she didn't turn off the light; she dimmed it a little, just enough to see the gold marker clearly. Today she came to tell me, "That's enough." Enough is enough. It's not the end, it's confirmation. It's confirmed.

Zuo Cheng put down his pen after finishing writing. The quantum light stream continued to swirl outside the door, each circle carrying the distant frequencies already encoded into the underlying structure, each circle carrying the warmth of the footprints Han Lu left as she walked down the corridor. The quantum light stream shifted slightly as it passed the spot where she had stood on the porch—not a malfunction, but because she had stopped there. There were no footprints on the porch floor, but Zuo Cheng knew that spot was warm.