Chapter 21

21. History

Everyone wishes to become stronger, whether men or women. As for whether there were those who simply drifted through life a thousand years ago, Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang did not know, but at school, they recognized many who were ambitious. These people were pragmatic; upon learning that scientists were researching a way to return, they understood that they would eventually leave, so they strove to master current knowledge. Whether they could pass it on when they returned was another matter, but the ability to protect themselves was essential.

Zhu Anfu, who was studying in the History Department, found a wealth of information about the apocalypse of that era. The first to mutate a thousand years ago were the animals, followed by humans. The reason for animal mutation was actually quite simple: driven by profit, some people had added drugs that should never have been fed to livestock, catalyzing the animals' mutation. When animals first mutated, humans showed no signs, but over time, human bodies began to change—becoming irritable, quick to anger, violent, attacking others—and then the zombies appeared. Humans devoured humans and became zombies. The entire nation was plunged into panic.

Moreover, before the changes in the human body, the weather was in a constant, bizarre state—days without sunlight and severe air pollution. Westerners took advantage of the chaos to launch invasions. Unfortunately, before their wars could reach the East, zombies, who had somehow crossed over, spread throughout the West.

Zhu Anfu closed his laptop and rubbed his nose. This was the truth, and it left him deeply unsettled. Thinking of those mutated creatures, each enormous and terrifying, he realized that the so-called apocalypse was humanity’s own doing. Such an answer made him sigh. Humans, thinking themselves the masters of the natural world, had forgotten who truly gave birth to them. To borrow a line from an old advertisement—“Mother Earth can get angry, too.” Was it because she was angry that she punished humanity? This explanation made Zhu Anfu feel a particular disgust for being human.

Yuchi Ankang placed a plate of sliced fruit beside Zhu Anfu. “Actually, humanity should have been punished. You need to look on the bright side—after this punishment, those who survived cherished nature even more. Otherwise, the Earth would not have revived today. Look at the air outside, then recall what we used to breathe. Look at the water now, and think of what we used to drink.” Yuchi Ankang, noticing Zhu Anfu’s mood, hurried to comfort him.

“I know. I just wonder why people only learn to cherish things after suffering a great fall. If we had protected the environment before, would mutation have occurred?” Zhu Anfu sighed. “But then again, without these experiences, perhaps science wouldn’t have developed so quickly.”

“Did you read about the immigration program? Are there really people settling on Mars?” Yuchi Ankang cared more about this. If interplanetary immigration succeeded, why did no one talk about Martians or such things? Shouldn’t the two planets be closely connected?

“I haven’t gotten that far. I only read up to the disaster,” Zhu Anfu replied, also curious. “Why don’t we just ask Prince?”

“Master, what can Prince do for you?” At the sound of his name, Prince immediately appeared at the bedroom door. His masters had gone to school today, and he’d felt lonely at home. Now that they were back, he wanted to spend more time with them before being recharged for the night.

“Prince, is there human habitation on Mars now?” Zhu Anfu asked directly.

“There are no humans living on Mars. Although Mars is considered suitable for habitation, current planetary protection laws require that all research on other planets be conducted under international coordination. Any nation found conducting private research may have its satellites retrieved by others deploying space-cleaning robots.” Prince explained in detail the regulations regarding satellites and the development of planets, and also shared some data about the space station with them.

Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang listened as if to astronomy, yet they remembered clearly, even the various statistics, which was rather impressive. They did not dwell on it, and when Prince finished explaining all the regulations and planetary matters, Zhu Anfu found himself with yet another hypothesis—though he decided to finish recording the current one before saving a new one.

When Prince finished, Yuchi Ankang checked the time and hurried Zhu Anfu off to wash up. They had classes the next day and couldn’t keep chatting. He put Prince on charge, and when he returned to the bedroom, Zhu Anfu had already finished a quick shower. Yuchi Ankang took a brief rinse and slipped into bed. These days, with the environment improved, even sweating did not leave one feeling sticky.

As soon as Yuchi Ankang lay down, Zhu Anfu sidled over. “Do you think people in the past were just foolish?”

“It’s just that technology back then developed slowly, and people were indeed too greedy. They thought the Earth was inexhaustible.” Yuchi Ankang turned over and hugged Zhu Anfu, who squirmed awkwardly until Yuchi Ankang’s arousal became obvious, at which point Zhu Anfu pretended to fall asleep. Yuchi Ankang chuckled, moved away a little, and decided that since both had classes the next day, vigorous exercise was unwise.

“If we ever get the chance to return a thousand years, we must protect the environment properly.”

“If we really went back, it would probably already be the apocalypse. Who would believe in protecting the environment then? People would barely have time to run for their lives.” Zhu Anfu shook his head and nestled closer to Yuchi Ankang. “Let’s sleep. Tomorrow is the weekend—Zhao Long said he’d come over to hang out. Let’s have Prince order extra groceries in the morning.”

“Sleep.” Yuchi Ankang kissed Zhu Anfu’s forehead, feeling extraordinarily fortunate—to be able to hold his beloved, to live in good health. After all, isn’t this what people truly seek from birth? A healthy body, a loved one by their side, and companionship into old age.

~~~

In the morning, waking Zhu Anfu was like waging a battle. Yuchi Ankang had to try many ways before he succeeded. At breakfast, Zhu Anfu was still half-asleep, and on the bus, he leaned against Yuchi Ankang for a nap, not worried about missing their stop. Only upon entering the classroom did he perk up, full of energy as if injected with adrenaline. At noon, they spent their break together, and after a day of classes, returned home side-by-side. Such a life was simple, yet warm.

“In the past, if anyone had dared to walk hand in hand on campus like us, their mental fortitude must have been extraordinary.” They got off the bus and walked home hand in hand. “Tell me, why were people’s minds back then so… how should I say, old-fashioned? That’s not quite right either—ancient people could accept men being together, so why couldn’t people in our era? Was it Marx and Lenin? Or Mao and Deng?”

“That’s a question. I haven’t studied it. If we do go back, I’ll look into it.” Yuchi Ankang smiled and squeezed Zhu Anfu’s hand. “Have you grown taller?”

“I was just about to ask you the same! Why do I feel like you’ve grown?” Zhu Anfu frowned. He was already shorter than Yuchi Ankang, and if Yuchi Ankang kept getting taller, he’d really want to saw a piece off his legs.

“When we get home, let’s measure ourselves.” Yuchi Ankang grinned. Height had always been Zhu Anfu’s sore spot, so it was better not to dwell on it. Still, he noticed that Zhu Anfu’s health had improved—no longer catching colds so easily.

“You two, could you walk any slower? We’ve been waiting for half an hour!” Wang Fei complained, thinking Zhu Anfu and Yuchi Ankang were flaunting their love to an infuriating degree.

“What’s the rush? If you’re jealous, you can always act cute with Zhao Long.” Zhu Anfu muttered, not believing for a moment that Wang Fei and Zhao Long weren’t happy together. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t be standing there so amicably.

“The training’s been tough these days—he’s just hungry.” Zhao Long was calm, nodding to them. “Last time you mentioned going back—what’s the situation?”

“I heard at school that our scientists are studying the possibility of returning. The chances are unclear. But after what Prince told us yesterday, I don’t think we’ll be leaving this year.” Yuchi Ankang, holding Zhu Anfu’s hand, recounted what Prince had said—the satellite launches, how each country was allowed only one or two per year. This year, Dragon Nation had already sent up a maintenance robot and a satellite to collect space debris, which had been planned long ago. “Also, I don’t think scientists will find a way to return so quickly.”

“I have a feeling that going back is still very possible. Just a hunch,” Zhu Anfu added after Yuchi Ankang finished.

“I feel it too,” Wang Fei nodded. “I’ve felt it ever since we arrived. There’s a sense of belonging here, but something is missing.”

“Maybe we just haven’t fully adapted to life here.” Zhao Long patted Wang Fei’s shoulder. “Maybe we should look at it differently—perhaps fate brought us here to become stronger, and then, when the time comes, we return to help humanity grow and protect the environment.”

“The last apocalypse was mainly humanity’s fault.” Once home, Zhu Anfu shared his historical findings with them.

“Now I finally understand why some people here look at us with such disdain. If our generation hadn’t done such shameful things, perhaps there would have been no apocalypse.” Zhao Long recalled the strange looks he’d received in the military.

“No, I think they’re more afraid that we, these ancient ones, will bring our bad habits with us,” Yuchi Ankang shook his head. “Without the disaster, there wouldn’t be such progress now.”

“So, disaster is relative. For us, the ancients, it was calamity, but for those who survived and grew stronger, it was a chance for rebirth.”

“That’s about right.”