Evolution - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
On a Friday night, the city was always at its most boisterous. Office workers, having toiled for five consecutive days, could finally let loose and unleash their pent-up energy. For freelancers who didn’t keep a nine-to-five schedule, the day was meaningless—just another one in a long line of days that blurred into nights.
The only surprise was that a WeChat group that had been quiet for a long time had, on this particular night, suddenly come back to life.
After battling with Word for nearly ten hours, Ji Changqing pinched the bridge of her nose and opened WeChat. The “BT Concentration Camp” group chat already had over thirty unread messages.
As a middle-aged woman who, in her youth, could start a thread and, with just a few people, build it up to a thousand posts overnight, Ji Changqing felt this was a sign that after being beaten down by society, everyone had come to understand that a thousand words were not as good as silence—that silence had more style.
This was a good thing.
The chattering young people who, if they knew one thing, wanted to show off as if they knew three, had finally become the type of people they once admired—people who knew ten things but casually revealed only six or seven, always appearing effortlessly competent.
RMB: Why’s everyone so quiet lately, BTs? Are you all busy pursuing me? shy.JPG
Red Scarf: Dumbass. bashyourdogheadin.JPG
RMB: Xiao Hong, did you get dumped again? surprised.JPG
Red Scarf: Nothing to lose.
RMB: Huh?
Old Cadre: Qianqian, why are you messing around online instead of spending time with your family?
Red Scarf: @He Shi Bi, you bastard, get your ass out here! Stop drooling over Rainie Yang like a creep!
RMB: Xiao Huanghuang is so obsessed with cradle-robbing.
Red Scarf: Like you're any different. @Son of Heaven Zhou, stop getting lost in building your harem and come hang out!
Old Cadre: Yeah, Xiao Qing, didn't you say you were coming to the Imperial Capital to sign a film and TV rights deal? Damn, the other person's kid has already been born, have you even gotten paid for the rights yet?
Red Scarf: Right in the feels, bro.
RMB: Yeah, why'd you have to twist the knife?
Old Cadre: No, that's not... Shit, I forgot about that.
Red Scarf: Xiao Qing, come out and beat her up.
RMB: Xiao Qing, come out and beat her up.
He Shi Bi: Childish! You bunch of rough-and-tumble tomboys with the hearts of teenage girls, always going on about older, sophisticated women. What do you know about the beauty of a loli?
...
“Son of Heaven Zhou” changed the group name to “Over Forty, Life Halfway Over”.
Son of Heaven Zhou: Alright, alright, what's with all this talk about sophisticated women? Don't you have any self-awareness about your own age? Lolis are the only option left.
RMB: ...
Red Scarf: ...
Old Cadre: ...
He Shi Bi: ...
Red Scarf: Here, maintain the formation.
Old Cadre: Screw you!
Red Scarf: Bitch!
He Shi Bi: Spitting facts!
RMB: I have a family!
A suffocating silence.
Son of Heaven Zhou: Holy shit, I just realized this group isn't entirely made up of single dogs.
Red Scarf: So, Qianqian, why are you still hanging around here?
Old Cadre: To be fair, I'm the only one in this group who's always been single, thank you very much.
He Shi Bi: Isn't it for having a legitimate reason to hook up?
Red Scarf: Just think who managed to gather the “Seven Fairies” back in college.
Son of Heaven Zhou: Speaking of which, Rainie Yang was a loli when she debuted, but she doesn't count as one now, right?
Red Scarf: Damn, I know your mind wanders, but you've changed the channel again.
He Shi Bi: She has an eternal girlish charm. infatuated.JPG
After chatting with her BTs for a bit, Ji Changqing felt she had recovered from the momentary pang of heartache. She let out a long breath, switched her screen off, and shuffled in her flip-flops to her room to grab clothes for a shower.
Amid the billowing steam, Ji Changqing thought absently that the five of them had known each other for nearly twenty years. In an age where the average person lived less than eighty years, they had spent a quarter of a lifetime together—from their early twenties to now, past forty. They knew every little thing about one another.
At twenty, they mostly talked about romance and yearned for the future, dreaming of how they would reach the pinnacle of life, marry a rich, beautiful woman, and achieve success in both career and love. Back then, they were young and naive, yet their faces shone with an unyielding spirit. Each believed she was a child of destiny, destined for greatness and glory.
At thirty, their sharp edges had softened a bit. They talked more about development and investments, about how to handle conflicts, whether interpersonal issues at work or disagreements in relationships. By then, they had slowly matured, learning how to compromise and weigh their options. They understood that life was full of ups and downs, and as long as their goals remained unchanged, a winding path forward was to be expected. But a restless anxiety, an urgent desire for success, followed them like a shadow. They were so eager for so-called success that they were willing to sacrifice everything, becoming shortsighted and opportunistic, afraid that being a step too slow would mean missing out on a hundred million.
Now, past forty, they all seemed to have found a sense of peace. The youthful arrogance of “heaven is first, earth is second, and I am third” had been mellowed by the years into a gentle elegance. Perhaps they had finally understood that greatness was a glory reserved for a select few. They calmly accepted that they were just ordinary people, no longer fantasizing about one day doing something earth-shattering, no longer feeling they were born to shine brightly.
They made peace with the restless younger selves who had gritted their teeth, feeling the world was too small to contain their grand dreams.
Thanks to the accumulation of nearly twenty years of hard work, they were financially stable—not as well-off as the rich, but comfortable enough. Without immense pressure to survive, they could leisurely choose to do what they loved. Ji Changqing, for instance, tirelessly let her imagination run wild writing novels. Zhong Lan was fascinated by metaphysics and spent her time either studying it or playing games. Lin Huang, on a whim, started working with a fansub group and producing radio dramas. Qian Jing had always loved design, and her own studio was flourishing. And Xue Hong, well, she probably just enjoyed interacting with all sorts of people, reveling in the feeling of being a fish in water among a crowd.
Each of them found great joy in the things they chose to invest their time in.
It was just a pity that there was no one to applaud their successes, no one to share them with afterward.
But having no one to share with was still better than having nothing to share, Ji Changqing consoled herself. Drying her hair, she slipped on a robe and returned to her computer, ready to revise a few plot points that still felt off.
In the dead of night, unknown to anyone, five warships hovered in the gray-blue expanse of interstellar space. The crew members were ecstatic. Nearly everyone took a moment to go to a viewport and gaze at the blue planet below. The planet was indeed beautiful, but they had seen more beautiful ones. This, however, was the first primary civilization planet they had discovered themselves. They weren't looking at the planet; they were looking at their military honors!
In the main ship's control room, the AI’s screen displayed: “Primary civilization planet discovered. Compiling and organizing civilization data…”
Eight people sat in the control room. Seven of them looked at the blue planet with an eagerness that surpassed even that of seeing their own newborn child. With every glance, the smiles on their faces grew wider.
Everyone was trying their best to contain their excitement, but finally, someone couldn't hold it in any longer. “Hahahahaha… I’d love to see the looks on certain people’s faces!” Reizuo exclaimed, slamming his hand on the table. His fiery red hair flew about, a hint of irreverence in his manner.
“With the discovery of a new primary civilization planet, the Brigadier General should be promoted to Major General upon our return,” said the gentle and kind-looking Xiao Xia with a smile.
“They’ll be dead jealous of Xie'er’s luck!” said Mia, Brigadier General Xie'er’s adjutant. With a round, adorable face, she looked for all the world like a sweet girl next door.
But no one present dared to actually treat her like one. The last person who had been so bold was thrown across the training grounds countless times. Those who witnessed it still vividly remembered the look on his face as he flew through the air—an expression of someone whose worldview had collapsed and had lost all will to live, his face etched with despair for this heartless world.
...
While the group was reveling in their joy, their commanding officer, Brigadier General Xie'er, stood apart. She had silver hair and brown eyes, with delicate features and a tall, straight posture. The top two buttons of her uniform shirt were undone, offering a glimpse of her exquisite collarbones and hinting at her perfectly proportioned figure. Combined with the long, straight legs encased in her uniform trousers—on an average person, a military uniform could look stiff; on someone with high looks, it could exude a kind of ascetic beauty. But on Miss Xie'er, her high looks didn't create an ascetic feel at all. Instead, it was pure uniform temptation.
Only when her cold and indifferent gaze swept over you would you realize that within this seemingly slender and delicate body dwelled a ferocious beast ready to choose its prey and devour it.
It wasn't temptation; it was the confidence that came from her own power. She was unconcerned with displaying her beauty—it was for her own pleasure, not to please others.
Anyone who dared to think Brigadier General Xie'er dressed that way to please them was a true warrior—wasn't it good to be alive? Why rush to your death?
A faint smile touched Brigadier General Xie'er’s lips before quickly vanishing. “I wonder who they’ll send this time.” A glint flashed in her eyes. “If those people dare to reach out again, I’ll chop off their paws.”
The Sixth Fleet under her command had earned countless merits on the front lines, enough for her to be promoted to Major General. In the end, however, the promotion was blocked because she had politely declined a marriage alliance with a powerful family. She had foreseen this outcome the moment she refused—a minor loss was of no consequence to her. As expected, her opponents were merely trying to vent their frustration and didn't go too far. The final compromise was her promotion to Brigadier General and official command of the Sixth Fleet. This meant they didn't intend to extend their influence into the Sixth Fleet, a result she was very satisfied with.
Besides, according to her plans, now wasn't the best time to be promoted to Major General; waiting two or three years would be better.
But some people just never learned when to quit while they were ahead. Under the pretext of a troop rotation, they had the Sixth Fleet transferred from the front lines to garrison a chaotic starfield, with the primary mission of suppressing space pirates. This was a post where it was easy for things to go wrong and for the military to be held responsible, yet extremely difficult to earn merits.
It was a disgusting move, affecting not only her but also the promotions and merits of everyone in the Sixth Fleet.
There were always shortsighted, arrogant people who couldn't see the bigger picture, placing personal interests and preferences above the Alliance's.
It was utterly tiresome.
So tiresome that even Brigadier General Xie'er, who had always been meticulous in her planning, who followed her own path step by step and rarely showed her emotions, couldn't help but reveal a look of delight when she discovered a primary civilization planet on the other side of an unstable jump point they had found while pursuing pirates.
According to Alliance regulations, discovering a new civilized planet earned a one-time merit reward based on the civilization's level. In addition, for the next hundred years, a percentage of the contributions made to the Alliance by people originating from that planet would be credited to the discoverer. With this extra boost, it seemed her original goals could be set even higher.
To the great relief of the Sixth Fleet, the newly discovered civilization's technological level wasn't too low. At the very least, they had a decent internet, a satellite system, and signal towers covering almost the entire globe.
This undoubtedly made collecting, organizing, and analyzing information about the entire civilization extremely convenient. In just five days, they had the basic data and a preliminary assessment of its civilizational level. The existence of dozens of polities and countries, with dozens of languages on a single planet, was unbelievable to them, but thanks to their more advanced technology, their AI could automatically translate any information they needed to transmit into text or speech.
As for the planet's twenty-four time zones, with some regions in daylight while others were in darkness, what did that matter to them? They believed that no matter when these nations received their message, they would react with the utmost speed.
Thus, in accordance with the Alliance's emphasis on population, at nine o'clock on the morning of the second Friday, the ruling heads of every country on Blue Star simultaneously received a communication: “We are the Galactic Interstellar Alliance. As a primary civilization, Blue Star is hereby incorporated into the Galactic Interstellar Alliance system, effective today.”
The world was stunned.
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