Era of Mist

"I... I..."

"Not convinced? You don’t believe me?" Liu Qigang pointed to the plate in front of Si Chongtian. "First, try this piece of meat."

"Meat?" Si Chongtian picked up a piece and looked at it, puzzled. "It doesn’t look like anything special. I’ll just try it... Hmm, not bad... Wait, what—what is this stuff?!"

Si Chongtian’s expression changed. He stared at the piece of meat on his plate in disbelief, as if he’d seen some kind of monster. "Is this stuff... really meat?"

"Yes and no. There are generally two types of meat in this world. One is farmed meat, the kind you normally eat. The other is synthetic meat, which is what you have in front of you. Synthetic meat is inexpensive, and its flavor and texture can be engineered to be whatever you want—they can make it incredibly delicious. But the biggest difference between synthetic and farmed meat is that it can only restore your stamina and maintain your health. It contains very little vital essence."

As Liu Qigang spoke, Shi Tiexin listened in silence, and a sudden realization dawned on him. ’No wonder it’s been so hard for me to cultivate my strength arts. And no wonder my progress skyrocketed back at Fengming First Middle School. So that was the reason.’

BING, BING. A few stars appeared. The Naturalism progress bar had actually extended just from Liu Qigang’s words!

"Oh, so that’s why I felt something was off about this meat." Si Chongtian nodded in dawning comprehension. "Uncle Liu, do you mean that the working masses all eat this kind of synthetic meat?"

"Exactly. The fact that you can eat real meat at every meal—to the point you take it for granted and don’t even know synthetic meat exists—doesn’t mean everyone can. The fact that you’re on the verge of a breakthrough at such a young age doesn’t mean everyone is. Other people want to work hard too, but for the same amount of effort, the results they get are completely different from yours." Liu Qigang stared at Si Chongtian. "So, care to guess why the dregs can’t get their hands on real meat?"

Si Chongtian scratched his head. "Because there are too many people and not enough meat...?"

"Correct. Too many people, not enough meat. The solar system now has nearly one hundred billion people; where would we find the resources to farm that much livestock? But that’s only part of it. There’s another reason—it... was... intentional." Liu Qigang leaned forward, his voice grim and heavy with pressure. "This synthetic meat was *deliberately* made this way!"

Si Chongtian’s eyes widened. Shi Tiexin narrowed his.

’Deliberate?’

"Let me say it again. It. Was. Intentional. Synthetic meat wasn’t always devoid of vital essence. Originally, it was invented as an easy-to-prepare food for space travel, to help Martial Artists continue cultivating on their journeys. That technology was perfected decades ago, so it wouldn’t be difficult to produce it if we wanted to."

"But why would we produce meat like that? To allow these dregs to cultivate without issue? To let every one of them become a dragon, so they can one day rise up and replace us?"

"A pipe dream!

"They’re lucky we give them enough to eat just to stay alive.

"This current version of synthetic meat still has a tiny speck of essence in it. In the future, the standards will be revised, and the essence content will get lower and lower.

"’Work hard, work hard’... these dregs don’t even have a path upon which to struggle. Your new friend here... his channels for social mobility were invisibly sealed off long ago. The idea that you can change your fate through hard work? That’s just a fantasy you tell yourself, a form of self-hypnosis."

Si Chongtian looked at Shi Tiexin, who remained expressionless. A familiar feeling of indignation and grief welled up inside him, and yet, he felt a little happy.

’The Naturalism progress bar is still rising!’

"No, no, that’s not right!" Si Chongtian shouted. "The Origin Saint laid down the rules: everyone can practice martial arts, everyone can grow stronger! Uncle Liu, I always hear my dad telling stories about how your generation built everything from nothing. If hard work is really useless, then weren’t you all just the same ’dregs’ you’re talking about now?"

Si Chongtian’s voice was agitated, but Liu Qigang remained perfectly calm. "Our generation caught the right era. We were born during the Second Great Expansion and came of age during the Third. We traveled from the inner solar system out to Saturn, risking our lives to struggle, to pioneer, to gamble. We won the gamble, so we’re alive—and we’ve become the elite. Most people lost that gamble. They died, or they’re still dregs."

Liu Qigang pointed at Shi Tiexin. "His parents were probably among the losers who lost that gamble."

Shi Tiexin’s breathing hitched. He didn’t want to hear anyone talk about his parents that way, even if he couldn’t remember them at all.

Si Chongtian cried out, "You all got to gamble, so why can’t people today?"

"You no longer have the chance." Liu Qigang shook his head. "The inner solar system is an iron fortress. The Asteroid Belt is a chessboard for the titans. The social hierarchies on Jupiter and Saturn have already solidified. Uranus and Neptune are under military control and don’t have much potential value. Any farther, and you reach the Mist Wall.

"’Wherever the sun shines is the domain of humanity.’ You’ve surely heard that saying. But it doesn’t just represent humanity’s glory; it also means our explorable space has reached its end. We’re like a prisoner crouching in a pitch-black cell, with only enough room for one person. There are no blank maps, no blue oceans, no vistas beyond what we know. And certainly, no more chances to gamble.

"The cultivation of the elite grows ever higher, while fewer and fewer things can threaten them, and their own demand for resources grows ever larger. Meanwhile, humanity has no civil wars and no external enemies, no great attrition and no terminal plagues. So, the per capita share of resources for the lower classes can only shrink.

"It’s like on a Space City. There’s only a finite amount of oxygen. If someone takes up more of it, and that person is unbeatable in terms of martial power, then everyone else can only hold their breath, endure it, and slowly suffocate.

"And this situation will only grow more and more severe.

"One hundred years into the Era of Mist. What came before was an age of exploration. What comes after, I’m afraid, will be an age of suffocation."

Liu Qigang raised his finger and pointed it at Si Chongtian. "And you, my dear nephew, you and your peers were born into this age of suffocation."

Si Chongtian fell silent. He wilted like an eggplant after a frost.

Shi Tiexin also said nothing—the sheer volume of information in Liu Qigang’s words was so immense that he could see little stars whizzing by every second. The progress bar for Naturalism, a skill that had always given him a headache, had already shot past the halfway mark.

No one spoke. Liu Qigang wasn’t in a hurry, simply waiting and watching, as if he wanted to see how Si Chongtian would react.

After a long moment, Si Chongtian still hadn’t responded. Liu Qigang’s lips parted, as if he were about to speak, but Shi Tiexin suddenly cut in. "President Liu, would you mind if I shared my thoughts on the matter?"

Liu Qigang looked at Shi Tiexin in surprise. Seeing the unwavering calm in the young man’s eyes, his interest was suddenly piqued. "Go on."

"Then I will." Shi Tiexin gathered his thoughts. "I cannot agree with what you’ve said. I refuse to believe that hard work is useless. I refuse to believe our generation is doomed to simply suffocate and die."

Hearing Shi Tiexin’s words, Si Chongtian snapped his head up. He stared at Shi Tiexin, his eyes filled with hope, praying this man could say something to salvage his shattered worldview.

This time, however, Liu Qigang wasn’t so confrontational. Instead, he made an elegant gesture with his hand. "Then state your case."