The Last 299 Days of Humanity

Seeing Yu Xuan and the others gradually regain some energy and focus under the points system, Yu Qing was not satisfied. He realized that merely creating competition and limited challenges within Wengshan was like imitating wind and rain in a greenhouse, ultimately lacking a certain depth.

He needed to give them a bigger stage and more realistic challenges in order to truly hone their resilience and ability to survive the storms of the future. A more whimsical, even somewhat cruel, experimental plan took shape in his mind.

He gathered everyone together and stood on the highest observation platform on Wengshan Mountain, pointing towards the distant, desolate mountains shrouded in radiation clouds.

“From today onward,” his voice sounded calm and distant in the wind, “the hundred-plus miles of desolate mountains and wilderness outside will be your new territory.”

He casually drew a few rough boundaries on the holographic map and named it "New Urban Area," as if he were cutting up an unclaimed cake.

Then, he made a decision that left everyone speechless: he appointed Daya, Xiaoya, Bread, and Yuxuan and Yulan (who, considering their physical condition, would each manage one district) as “city lords”.

“These places are yours.” Yu Qing’s tone was almost permissive, even indifferent. “You can refer to the construction of Wengshan, but how to build it, what it should look like, whether to turn it into a garden or a garbage dump, is all up to you.”

Starting today, each person will be assigned 5,000 laborers of various types. They can do whatever they want with them; I will not interfere, nor will I provide any additional resources or guidance.

He brutally imposed a kind of autonomy, almost primitive and accompanied by immense uncertainty, on these women who had almost never faced the real world independently. This was not a gift, but more like a trial of exile.

Next, these "city lords" who were forced to take office indeed vividly demonstrated their personalities, subconscious desires, and current predicaments through their actions:
Xiaoya's city quickly transformed into a dizzying, giant maze. She seemed to have poured all her desire for control over order and her obsession with complexity into this land.

Instead of building any houses for living, she directed the humanoids to erect towering metal walls, etched with bizarre geometric symbols and twisted patterns, day and night, and to dig winding, bottomless tunnels filled with simple yet effective mechanical traps.

She herself wore a set of work clothes that allowed her to move around easily, and spent her days carrying doodles on paper, traversing the skeleton of the maze, sometimes frowning in deep thought, and sometimes excitedly revising the plan.

She even designed a "safe path" that required stepping on the tiles in a specific order to open it, and tirelessly tested those side paths that would occasionally cause even the powerful humanoids to lose their way and trigger alarms.

Her city is a constantly growing, cold fortress full of logical puzzles, an externalization of her inner desire for absolute control and complex order.

Daya, on the other hand, went to the other extreme. Her city seemed like a gentle rebellion against the desolation of the outside world. She had no interest in hard buildings and cold machinery; her dream was to transform it into a vibrant oasis.

She ordered the humanoid maidens to put down all the building materials and instead pick up simple farming tools, sowing and propagating seeds all over the mountains and fields. Ignoring the warnings in the humanoid maidens' program about soil composition, radiation levels, and species adaptability, she insisted on scattering all the seeds of flowers, shrubs, and even trees that she could find in the Wengshan database across this barren land.

Every day, she wears a wide-brimmed straw hat and carries a hand-woven basket filled with water and simple tools, wandering in the "garden" she has created, which, though messy, is full of hope.

She would carefully murmur to a strange tree that had just sprouted but whose leaves were covered with ominous yellow spots, trying to bring it back to life with water and clumsy care.

Her hands were covered in mud, and her face often bore the flush of labor and a faint sorrow for the plants' fate. It was a kind of cultivation that was almost futile, yet full of the beauty of life.

The little bread's "urban area" was a completely different world. She had no concept of words like "construction" or "planning." To her, receiving five thousand humanoid girls was like receiving five thousand giant playmates who would absolutely obey her and never laugh at her.

Her territory contained no decent buildings, only rudimentary yet enormous swings and slides made of discarded alloy plates, elastic polymer pipes, and scrapped instrument casings, along with some abstract sculptures of dubious meaning and vibrant colors.

She spends her days leading her "army of humanoid girls" chasing and playing on the hillside, engaging in childish games of hide-and-seek and "attack the castle," or commanding them to form neat squares and dance clumsily to her off-key humming.

Her laughter was crisp and loud, echoing through the desolate valley. Her town was more like an infinitely magnified open-air playground full of childlike innocence and chaotic joy, far removed from the concept of a "city".

As for Yu Xuan and Yu Lan, as women who are about to become mothers, their anxieties and sense of responsibility are the most real and urgent.

Their city was a scene of bustling but somewhat chaotic construction. They directed the humanoid girls to level the land on a large scale, build houses with rough logs and fired mud bricks, pave gravel roads, and clumsily plan their imagined living and storage areas.

Despite limited technology and resources, the houses they built were low, rough, and even a bit crooked, but they were happy to do it.

With their bellies growing ever larger, they patrolled the dusty construction site, arguing endlessly about whether a window should be bigger or smaller because a wall wasn't straight enough, their faces bearing a kind of persistence that belonged to the start-ups, a mixture of exhaustion, anxiety, and a strange brilliance.

They are working hard to build a real, safe haven for the unknown future and for their unborn children, fearing that their children will not have enough safe and secure places to live in the future.

It must be admitted that no matter how naive, off-track, or even ridiculous their behavior may seem to Yu Qing, the process of having a goal and devoting oneself to it wholeheartedly, and taking responsibility for it, is indeed like an invisible carving knife, quietly changing their temperament.

Their eyes no longer held the confusion and dependence of the past, but instead showed focus and decisiveness. Their demeanor had shed its parasitic languor and become efficient, bold, and even carried a slightly awkward "leader" aura stemming from their control of resources (five thousand beautiful women).

Their abilities, whether in macro-level planning, detailed command, or dealing with unexpected minor problems during construction (such as tool damage or humanoid program conflicts), have been tested in an unprecedented, real, and brutal way.

However, just as Yu Qing stood on the observation platform, silently observing everything with a remote detector, thinking that his "education through suffering" was progressing slowly in the expected direction, a completely unexpected situation, like a lurking venomous snake, suddenly launched an attack.

One day, while inspecting her "garden," Daya discovered a rare butterfly with wings that shimmered with metallic luster and iridescence.

This strange creature instantly captured her heart, and she thought how wonderful it would be to introduce it into her garden.

So she lifted her skirt and chased after the fluttering sprite with abandon, unknowingly crossing her self-defined safe zone and venturing into a buffer zone near the core area of ​​Wengshan that she had never set foot in before.

By a twist of fate, she stumbled upon the vicinity of the meticulously hidden, luxurious villa where Dangui Life lived. Curiosity, like a vine, entwined around her. She secretly parted the dense, clearly cultivated ornamental plants, and through the gaps in the exquisitely carved fence, she witnessed a scene that shook her very soul:
Angelica sinensis, like a boneless mollusk, lies lazily on a large recliner covered with snow-white imitation animal skin, with sunlight filtering through the filter and casting a soft halo.

She was naked, her skin glowing and healthy, and four or five well-proportioned, handsome men, their faces like works of art, were massaging her head and limbs with just the right amount of force.

Several other humanoid figures stood quietly to the side, like the most loyal servants, holding crystal goblets (filled with amber-colored nectar) and exquisite silver platters adorned with fresh fruit, ready to feed her the delicacies and wine at any moment.

The air was filled with a sweet, relaxing aroma of spices, and the whole scene was extremely luxurious and tranquil, as if time itself had fallen into a slumber.

This contrasts sharply with Daya's own life in the desolate mountains, where he toils by hand, covered in dust, with mud clogging his fingernails, worrying about the life or death of a few plants, and even fearing radiation rain and the occasional appearance of mutated creatures. It is a stark and despairing contrast between heaven and hell.

She had always believed that she was striving for some kind of "future," a struggle that, though arduous, held profound meaning. But at this moment, the naked, undisguised extreme "happiness" and "comfort" of Dangui struck her like a hammer blow, shattering all her mental constructs.

Dejected, Daya returned to her "garden" district, filled with the earthy scent and bitter aroma of grass and trees. Looking at her reflection in the water tank—her rough hands, arms scratched by thorns, and clothes covered in mud and long since lost their luster—a strong sense of injustice, grievance, and even anger at being deceived erupted and surged in her chest like a volcano.

From then on, she was like a completely different person. She threw away her straw hat and farm tools, and ignored the flowers, plants and trees that she had once treasured, letting them wither and die in the weeds and drought.

She began desperately trying to recall and imitate Danggui's languid, seductive posture and tone. She ordered the humanoid maidens assigned to her to cease all work and instead search for, and even plunder, any comfortable silk garments, delicate pastries, and cellared wines that might exist in other districts.

In her simple, drafty wooden hut, she tried to replicate the enjoyment of angelica, but only ended up looking like a poor imitation, making her look even more pathetic.

Worse still, the resentment that had been building up inside her began to spread outwards. She started to harbor deep resentment towards Yu Qing, believing that he was too biased, giving Dang Gui the best of everything and the most carefree and decadent pleasures, while banishing them like fools to the desolate mountains to suffer.

She started gossiping behind Xiaoya's back, along with Bread and others, spreading her opinions in a tone that was a mixture of jealousy, resentment, and malicious speculation:

"You see? That's what he really likes! We're working ourselves to the bone here, like wild men, exposed to the wind and sun, while he's enjoying queen-like treatment over there, without even lifting a finger!"
"I think Dangui is the woman Yu Qing loves most. What are we... what are we? We're nothing more than tools to have his children and be used by him for experiments!"

These negative comments, like invisible toxins, began to quietly infiltrate and spread within the small circle, shaking the already wavering hearts of others, especially Xiaoya and Bread, who were relatively simple-minded, and they also began to have doubts and dissatisfaction with Yu Qing's arrangements.

Yu Qing keenly sensed this change. Through the detector, he saw the abandoned garden in Daya City, saw her drunkenly directing the humanoid girls to steal the bread's stored grain, and saw the undisguised resentment and self-abandonment in her eyes.

He felt a chill run down his spine. If things continued like this, all his efforts, all the "crises" and "training" he had created, might end up on Daya, or even spread to Xiaoya and Bread like a plague, completely wasting his time!
The tiny spark of autonomy and responsibility that had just been ignited amidst adversity was about to be completely extinguished by a stronger, more instinctive human desire for pleasure and jealousy.

What should we do? Suppress her by force? Arrest her and put her in solitary confinement? Try to reason with her and explain the "profound meaning" of all this?
Yu Qing knew that these methods were powerless against people who had been blinded by the vision of another “better life” and whose reason had been overwhelmed by emotions. They might even provoke a stronger rebellious mentality.

He was plunged into unprecedented confusion, anxiety, and a deep sense of powerlessness, not knowing what to do, as if watching his carefully built sandcastle about to be washed away by an unexpected tide.

During a routine communication with his aunt, Yu Qing, feeling troubled, couldn't help but bring up this thorny problem after finishing his report on important matters, with a hint of frustration and helplessness:

"...My original intention was to train them, to make them independent and able to face reality. But now, someone has accidentally seen Danggui's...that kind of life, and started to imitate it, thinking that's the kind of life they should live. All my previous efforts are about to be wasted. One bad apple spoils the whole bunch."

On the other end of the screen, after listening, her aunt's beautiful face showed no sympathy or advice. Instead, a knowing, slightly mocking smile, as if she had seen through the folly of the world, appeared on her face. She said casually:

"I thought it was something important. Getting hung up on the decline of individual units is just a waste of energy. It's a trivial matter."

Yu Qing hadn't fully grasped the deeper meaning behind her words, nor had he seen her make any obvious gestures, such as issuing instructions. But soon after, something strange and abrupt happened.

Dang Gui's behavior suddenly underwent a drastic and abnormal change. She became unusually excited and happy, but this happiness was not the languid satisfaction of the past; instead, it reached a morbid, hysterical level, as if it were a final, frenzied celebration.

No longer content with passively accepting service, she began to work around the clock, with terrifyingly abundant energy, and in a state of extreme excitement, she directed those humanoid men to accompany her in all sorts of increasingly outrageous and physically demanding crazy games, frolicking, and even self-destructive "adventures."

Her shrill laughter echoed from the villa day and night, but her eyes gradually became unfocused and lost their way in this extreme excitement.

Such unrestrained indulgence, which is akin to overdrawing one's life energy, has swift and devastating consequences.

Less than a week later, one morning, Danggui, who had always been pampered and demanding of pleasure, was found to have suffered a sudden cardiac arrest at the height of a party and quietly passed away.

As she died, a twisted yet satisfied smile, as if she had finally reached the other side of bliss, slumped on the luxurious chaise lounge, surrounded by humanoid figures who were equally exhausted and standing there dumbfounded.

The sudden death of Danggui was like a boulder thrown into a seemingly calm lake, stirring up huge and complex ripples in Yu Qing's heart.

He immediately understood that this was no accident or a simple case of joy turning to sorrow. His aunt's words, "It's nothing," still echoed in his ears, but now they carried a chilling meaning. How had she so precisely, subtly, and imperceptibly guided Dangui's self-destruction?
Was it some kind of pheromone? Was it a hint that the humanoid's service program had been adjusted? Or was it some kind of field that directly affected the nervous system? Yu Qing dared not think about it in detail, only feeling a chill even deeper than when he was facing Ya Du, which spread from his spine all the way to the top of his head and penetrated his bone marrow.

The problem was "solved" in the most thorough and irreversible way. Daya lost her role model, and her resentment and depravity seemed to have lost their real target, becoming empty and powerless.

But Yu Qing felt no relief or success, only a deeper heaviness and an indescribable fear. Who could guarantee that a second Dangui wouldn't appear?
You can control everything now, but can you precisely plan everything in the future? Yu Qing suddenly realized: he couldn't decide the future of native humans. (End of Chapter)