Chapter 99: Historical Pattern Recognition
Bai Lang’s words followed Su Yao for several steps. She kept walking. The thought of three foxes sharing Duwang had lodged in her mind.
“Fantastic,” Su Yao muttered. “Another problem to add to the pile.”
She stopped on a deserted footbridge. Wait.
Kayo was here, too. That made three nine-tailed foxes who had been coexisting in Duwang for some time without triggering a city-leveling disaster. If Cheng Lian was a fourth, the math stopped adding up.
“And if Xie Jing and I’ve been in proximity for weeks with no cataclysm,” she muttered, “then the mere presence of three isn’t the trigger. What variable was different before?”
She remembered fire and screaming, rivers flowing in reverse. Then she saw a silvery streak across the sky like a brushstroke of cold light.
The cataclysm had coincided with the passing of a great comet.
Her eyes narrowed. “The comet, it amplified our energies. It was a catalyst.” She straightened. “The Aesthetes and the Hundred Demons. They’re preparing for the return of that comet.”
She pulled out her phone and dialed Zhang Wei. He answered. “Su Yao? What is it?”
“The factions,” she said. “Their alliance. They’re afraid of a comet. Or perhaps they seek to harness its power. Find me everything on celestial phenomena predicted to occur in the near future. Specifically, comets.”
There was a pause on the line, followed by the sound of typing. “There’s something, the Tsuchinshan-ATLAS comet. It’s expected to pass close to Earth in the coming months. But why would they care about a comet?”
“Because,” Su Yao said, her gaze turning skyward. “The last time it came, it caused a cataclysm. Imagine what it could do in the hands of those who know how to use it.”
Su Yao phased back to the ginkgo tree in a shimmer of distorted air. Bai Lang was now examining a leaf, while Xie Jing had moved on to sketching a fluffy cloud.
“Both of you, listen,” Su Yao said. “I’ve identified the true variable.”
Bai Lang dropped the leaf. Her eyes widened. “Is it the aliens? Did they make contact?”
Xie Jing sighed. “If it’s about another cosmic tax audit, I’m not interested.”
“It was the comet,” Su Yao said, ignoring them. “The historical cataclysms attributed to the gathering of three heavenly foxes were coincidental. The comet’s passage amplified spiritual energies to destructive levels. Our presence merely coincided with its arrival.”
Bai Lang’s jaw dropped. “A comet? So it’s not the elites? It’s a space rock?”
Xie Jing paused her sketching. “Oh, that shiny thing in the sky? I remember now. It was quite pretty, right before all the screaming started.”
Su Yao nodded. “The Aesthetes and Hundred Demons are pooling resources to prepare for the Tsuchinshan-ATLAS comet’s return. They either fear its power or seek to weaponize it.”
Bai Lang scrambled to her feet. “Weaponize a comet? That’s even cooler than aliens! What’s the plan? Do we blow it up? Can I help?”
Xie Jing resumed her drawing, adding a small comet in the corner of her sketch. “How troublesome. I suppose this means I should cancel my spa day when it arrives?”
“The plan,” Su Yao said. “Is that there is no plan.”
Bai Lang stared at her. “No plan? For a world-ending comet?!”
“It isn’t here yet,” Su Yao replied. “The factions are scrambling like ants before a rainstorm. Let them exhaust themselves preparing. When the comet arrives, we will see what happens. If it requires intervention, we will intervene.”
Xie Jing nodded, adding a stick figure to her comet sketch. “Makes sense. Why waste energy on a ‘what if’?”
“But it’s a comet!” Bai Lang spluttered, gesturing at the sky. “A comet could amplify every spiritual anomaly in the city! It could turn a minor curse into a continent-cracker!”
“Then it will be more interesting than this conversation,” Su Yao said, turning to leave. “Don’t schedule your panic so far in advance. It’s poor time management.”
She phased away, leaving Bai Lang hyperventilating over celestial mechanics and Xie Jing shading the cratered surface of her doodled comet.
Su Yao reappeared in her silent apartment. She walked to the window and looked up at the sky.
“Let them build their armies and their shields,” she murmured to the distant speck of ice and dust. “They prepare for a battle. I’m simply waiting to see if the weather merits getting out of bed.”
She picked up her phone and sent one message to the FFF chat.
Su Yao: The comet is coming. Try not to do anything exceptionally stupid when it arrives.
Then she put the phone down. When the time came, she would decide what happened next. If the comet or the very heavens themselves disagreed, they would learn the same lesson Zhao Ze had.
Some forces are simply beyond planning for.
Su Yao would rather plan for midterms.
With that, she walked to her apartment’s small desk. A stack of textbooks materialized before her with a thought. ‘Principles of Macroeconomics, Introduction to Statistical Analysis.’
She opened the economics text to the chapter on fiscal policy. Her eyes scanned the pages at a speed that would have vaporized the paper had she not been dampening her energy.
For the next several hours, the only sound was the turn of a page every three seconds. She paused only once when she reached the explanation of currency valuation.
Her finger tapped the page, and the textbook combusted into a neat pile of white ash. She stared at the ashes for a moment, then summoned a second copy from the university bookstore’s inventory.
“This one had a printing error,” she informed the empty room and continued reading.
As dusk fell, she closed the last book. She had finished every chapter.
Su Yao rose and walked back to the window. The first stars were pricking through the twilight. Somewhere out there, the Tsuchinshan-ATLAS comet was falling toward the inner solar system. Factions were plotting. Ancient powers were stirring.
Her stomach rumbled.
She glanced at the stack of textbooks, then back at the emerging stars.
The comet could wait, the factions could scheme. It was time for dinner.
Su Yao walked into the living room. The scent of simmering broth and spices cut through the sterile air of her apartment. Her aunt was bustling around the table, laying out plates of thinly sliced lamb and plump mushrooms. Nohime stood still by the electric hot pot. Her presence caused a layer of frost to creep up its base.
“Auntie. Nohime,” Su Yao stated. “What is for dinner?”
Su Nuan Nuan beamed, wiping her hands on her apron. “Hot pot! I thought we could use a hearty meal. It’s a new recipe for the broth. Extra spicy!”
Su Yao’s eyes scanned the spread. “The meat is adequately marbled and the vegetables appear fresh. However, the broth is boiling at an incorrect temperature.”
“I can adjust it.” Nohime leaned closer to the pot, and the boil settled into a simmer. The broth developed a crystalline skin of ice around the edges that melted away.
Her aunt laughed. “Nohime is very helpful with temperature control.”
Su Yao took her seat, accepting a bowl of rice. “The concept is sound. Ingredients are cooked to individual preference. The efficiency is questionable, but the variety is acceptable.”
She picked up her chopsticks, selecting a slice of lamb and dipped it into the now simmering broth.
“The flavor is sufficient,” she said as she ate. “The spice level is adequate, though it lacks the complexity of a five-thousand-year-old fermented chili I once had in the celestial kitchens.”
Nohime served herself a single mushroom. “The simplicity of mortal sustenance has its own charm.”
Su Nuan Nuan smiled, looking around the table. “It’s nice having everyone here for dinner.”
Nohime lowered her chopsticks. “You should not say that.”
Su Nuan Nuan blinked. “Say what?”
“That this is a nice family dinner. You’ve just announced that this is the last one we’ll ever have together.”
Su Nuan Nuan’s smile faltered. “What?”
Su Yao ate another slice of lamb. “She has a point. Statements like that tend to precede someone's death.”
Her aunt looked between them. “You’re both being ridiculous.”
Nohime picked up her mushroom. “I hope so.”
For a moment, the only sounds were the simmer of the pot and the clink of porcelain.
Su Nuan Nuan reached for the remote and turned on the television. A news broadcast flashed on the screen, showing chaotic streets filled with people shouting and throwing belongings into piles. A reporter spoke urgently.
“—members of the ‘Ascension Sect’ are urging citizens to abandon all material possessions, claiming the end of the world is imminent. Police are struggling to contain the unrest.”
Su Nuan Nuan gasped. “Oh my! Those poor people. Why would they do such a thing?”
Su Yao took a sip of tea. “Fools. They mistake celestial phenomena for their petty apocalypse.”
Nohime watched the screen. “Their fear is a tangible resource. How wasteful.”
The news cut to a cult leader in robes, yelling about a ‘great cleansing light’ approaching. Su Yao’s eyes narrowed. The comet’s influence was already stirring mortal insanity.
“Change the channel,” she said. “This nonsense is ruining the broth.”
Her aunt fumbled with the remote and changed the channel. The screen showed another news report with scientists discussing the comet’s trajectory. She changed it again. A talk featured experts debating the comet’s spiritual significance. Another channel displayed footage of crowded temples.
“Every channel is about that comet!” Su Nuan Nuan exclaimed.
She then landed on a channel showing a nature documentary. A narrator explained how sea squirts consume their own brains after becoming adults.
Nohime watched the screen. “An efficient adaptation. It eliminates unnecessary complexity.”
Su Yao took a bite of cabbage. “At least one creature understands simplicity. Its existence is unburdened by celestial hysterics.”
She pointed her chopsticks at the television. “The sea squirt knows when to discard its brain. These humans should do the same. An unused mind is worthless.”
Her aunt blinked. “Xiao Ling, that’s a bit harsh!”
Nohime nodded. “It’s logical. Panic serves no purpose.”
Su Nuan Nuan changed the channel again. The screen now showed a formal meeting between Tsarina Maria I of Russia and the Empress of China. They were discussing the construction of a new tunnel on the China-Russia railway.
“Look at that,” Su Nuan Nuan said. “Such important people. I hope they finish the tunnel safely.”
“Infrastructure is a worthy endeavor. It outlasts fleeting fears,” Nohime said.
Su Yao glanced at the screen. “Six years as empress, and she bothers with railway tunnels. If I held that throne, I would have already restructured the imperial cultivation academies and eliminated redundant court officials.”
Her aunt frowned. “Xiao Ling, that sounds so violent!”
“Streamlining governance is efficient,” Nohime said. “But tunnels have their uses.”
Su Yao scoffed. “Tunnels are merely lairs for weak spirits to skulk in. A true ruler would purge such trivialities.”
Su Nuan Nuan sighed. “You always say such scary things, Xiao Ling.”
Nohime glanced at the television. “The spirits would appreciate the shelter, I suppose.”
“You want scary things?” Su Yao turned her gaze to her aunt. “I will tell you about tunnels. They fill with floodwater that drags victims into underground currents. Cave-ins bury workers alive in total darkness. Some tunnels house corpse-eating insects that swarm through ventilation shafts. Others have curse-ridden spirits that fuse with the living, turning them into mindless puppets.”
Her aunt paled. “Xiao Ling! Stop that!”
“The structural integrity of that new tunnel appears adequate,” Nohime said.
Su Yao shrugged. “Then they will only die from monsters.” She returned to her meal.
Nohime added, “In Japan, the Tōkaidō Main Line tunnel collapsed in 1934. The workers’ spirits still push maintenance carts in the dark. The Sasago Tunnel ceiling fell in 2012. Nine corpses were never recovered. They now tap on car windows during night drives. The Kan-Etsu tunnel has a spirit that mimics loved ones’ voices to lure drivers into crashes.”
Su Nuan Nuan covered her ears. “Please stop! Both of you!”
Su Yao took a sip of tea. “Adequate examples. Their tunnels are indeed more interesting.”
Her aunt wrung her hands. “I won’t sleep tonight after those stories!”
Su Yao finished her tea. “Sleep is for the weak. If you fear bad dreams, I can permanently sever the part of your mind that produces them.”
Her aunt stared. “What? No!”
Su Yao stood. “Then go to bed and face your nightmares. I’ve no more time for this.”
She walked into her room. Nohime glanced at the trembling Su Nuan Nuan. “I can lower the room temperature to induce hibernation. It prevents dreaming.”
“No thank you!” Su Nuan Nuan hurried to her own room and locked the door.
In her chamber, Su Yao lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally, even the strong chose to rest their eyes.
Su Yao closed her eyes and entered a state of half-sleep. Her spiritual awareness remained active, monitoring the apartment. The night progressed without disturbance. At first light, she opened her eyes and rose from the bed.
She walked into the kitchen at dawn and found her aunt already awake, watching the morning news.
The screen showed scenes of chaos across Duwang. Protesters clashed with police. Store windows were shattered. A reporter shouted over the noise, “This marks the second day of widespread unrest, with authorities struggling to contain—”
Su Yao took an apple from the fruit bowl. “The city deteriorates.”
“It’s those doomsday cults! They’re telling people the comet means the world is ending!”
As Su Yao took a bite of the apple, her phone buzzed. Zhang Wei was calling.
“The Ascension Sect is escalating. They’re targeting infrastructure now. Power substations, communication hubs. They call it ‘cleansing the world for the great light.’“
Su Yao swallowed. “Let them break it. The weak destroy what the strong will rebuild.”
“Xiao Ling, this isn’t just property damage. People are getting hurt.”
“Then they are learning the cost of stupidity.” She ended the call and turned to her aunt. “Don’t leave the apartment today.”
She phased out, reappearing on the rooftop. The city smog was tinged with the scent of smoke. Below, the sounds of sirens and shouting echoed. The comet’s approach was indeed a catalyst, amplifying the worst instincts of mortals.
Su Yao watched the plume of black smoke rising from the city’s eastern district. Her phone buzzed again with another call from Zhang Wei.
“They’ve taken the main power station. The grid is unstable. Police are setting up a perimeter, but these cultists, they’re stronger and faster than normal.”
“Amplified by the comet’s approaching energy,” Su Yao said. “Their fanaticism is a conduit. How predictable.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Observe. The city’s defenses require testing. Let the cult expose the weaknesses.”
She ended the call and watched as a group of cultists clad in white robes surged into the street below her building, smashing car windows with reinforced staves. Their eyes glowed with an unnatural silver light.
A thrown rock shattered a third-story window where a family of three was hiding. Their screams were brief.
She took another bite of her apple. The flesh was crisp and sweet.
“The military is being mobilized. They’re requesting our consultation.”
“Tell them I’m busy.” Su Yao finished the apple and phased away.
She reappeared in the path of the advancing cultists. They halted, fixing their glowing eyes on her.
“The world ends!” their leader shrieked, pointing a trembling finger. “The great light comes!”
Su Yao looked past him at the broken glass and weeping civilians. “Your light is late.”
She flicked her wrist and the leader’s jaw unhinged with a wet crack. He collapsed, his silver light extinguished.
The other cultists stared for a moment, then charged.
Su Yao sighed. “It’s going to be a long morning. At least the apple is satisfactory.”