National Fortune Bonus: After the new player awakens at the maximum level, he will kill like crazy

"In my opinion, true equality isn't about competing for a spot in the stars." She held up the proposal, and sunlight filtered through the gaps between the pages, casting tiny specks of light on the ground. "It's about allowing every soul to shine, without gender defining brightness."

In a trance, she seemed to see Wu Zetian smashing the "Legends for Women" in the Qianyuan Hall a thousand years ago, and she also saw herself in the Hengdian screenwriter's room revising the manuscript all night long. The two figures overlapped in the long river of time, and together they held the pen to rewrite their destiny.

............

On the winter solstice of 2025, the revolving door of the United Nations headquarters in Gotham City exhaled cold mist, and the hem of Wu Mingwei's cashmere coat made a slight crackling sound of static electricity as it brushed against the marble floor.

She stood in front of the bathroom mirror and adjusted her tie for the third time—

This navy blue silk tie was given to her two years ago by the girls in the domestic violence shelter who bought it with their compensation money. It has tiny Fu Hao axe patterns embroidered on the fine stitching.

At the folded cuffs of her white shirt, the washed-white cotton thread shone with a pearly luster under the warm light. It was an old shirt she had worn for three years. Every wrinkle remembered the warm yellow light of the desk lamp when she was sorting out the blood-lettered letters late at night.

There are 193 star lights hanging from the dome of the lecture hall, corresponding to the number of UN member states.

When Wu Mingwei stepped onto the oak podium, the sound of her heels hitting the wooden floor echoed clearly, as if some ancient contract was being struck anew.

The red silk booklet in her arms had slightly curled edges. It had a cover made of Nanjing brocade, and the first inscription of "Records of the Grand Historian: Biographies of Women" was embroidered in dark patterns between the vermilion warp and weft.

As my fingertips brushed across the title page, the indentations formed by my fingerprints transmitted subtle vibrations through the thin silk, as if... the heartbeats of all the survivors converged at this moment.

"Next, please allow Ms. Wu Mingwei, the representative of Xia State, to speak."

As the applause broke out, Wu Mingwei unbuttoned the third button. This unceremonious move stunned the interpreters in the front row—only she knew that the Big Dipper totem tattooed on her wrist was created with ink mixed with the blood and tears of 338 survivors.

The moment the red silk booklet was unfolded on the podium, the air-conditioning in the venue suddenly brought a chill, and letters written in blood were laid out one by one: there was an accusation written in lipstick on toilet paper, the handwriting stained by tears into irregular petals.

There was a blood mark on the back of the medical record where a bitten fingertip was pressed, and the dried blood raised into brown hills on the paper.

In the very center is a piece of yellowed rice paper, on which an old teacher wrote comments on "Instructions for Women" in neat small characters, but at the end he pierced the paper with a red pen: "Women today should stand holding axes."

In the blink of an eye, the star lights on the dome of the hall flickered for a moment.

Su Mohui was sitting in the press box. She clearly saw that when Wu Mingwei turned around, the 193 lights above her head were reorganizing at a speed visible to the naked eye. Orion's belt gradually shifted and turned into the shape of the ancient Big Dipper.

The light of the seven stars passed through Wu Mingwei's eyelashes, casting flowing spots of light on her irises. In a trance, the cold light of the bronze axe overlapped with the lead type of modern legal provisions. The figure of Zhao E in "Records of the Grand Historian" taking up the knife to seek revenge overlapped with the mother in the video who lifted her clothes in front of the camera to reveal the burn scar.

"These are not documents," Wu Mingwei's fingertips hovered over a piece of blood-written letter covered with children's graffiti. Next to a crooked red line was written "Mom, don't cry."

"This is a folded life. Three thousand years ago, Fu Hao used the axe to split the battlefield; three thousand years later, we use the axe of law to split prejudice—"

Before she finished her words, suppressed sobs suddenly came from the back row. An African representative was wiping her eyes. The hand-embroidered pattern on the silk scarf on her chest was exactly the same as the tattoo of a Syrian survivor in the blood letter.

Su Mohui raised her eyes and saw that when the last star lamp returned to the position of the Big Dipper, Wu Mingwei's shadow was stretched out and cast on the world map behind her.

Wu Mingwei noticed that the frayed area on her cuff corresponded exactly to a domestic violence hotspot marked in red on the map. The shelter there was built with the funds from the auction of her replica of Fu Hao's axe last year.

Somewhere in the venue, the sound of camera shutters suddenly became as dense as drumbeats, freezing this moment: the cuffs of an oriental woman's white shirt and the ancient star map on the dome, together weaving a trace of light that spanned time and space on the cold night of the winter solstice.

As she stepped down from the stage, Wu Mingwei's fingers unconsciously rubbed the clasp of the red silk booklet. Su Mohui watched her move and understood.

When these blood-written letters are included in the archives of the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, the Beidou pattern on the cover will overlap with the file number, becoming a new coordinate in the history of human civilization.

Just like the bronze inscriptions in Fu Hao's tomb and the biographies of heroic women in "Records of the Grand Historian", these words written with blood and tears will eventually become immortal in time and become the ladder for future generations to climb.

.......

At the same time, the rock core of the Red Flame Land suddenly trembled, and the crisp sound of the reincarnation gears grinding time and space was like bronze cracking, penetrating Qi Mo's consciousness.

He lowered his eyes to look at the cracked national destiny map in his palm. In the bright light bursting from the meshing gears, countless overlapping shadows were emerging from their cocoons.

When the female officials of Wu Zhou tore up the "Instructions for Women", the flying silk pieces were stained with red ink annotations. When a modern girl stepped on her foot binding, the splashing blue brick fragments mixed with the pages of her new textbook. Behind the silhouette of a modern reporter holding a bloody camera, there was an angry barrage in the live broadcast room like magma surging.

These images spanning thousands of years left marks on the surface of the divine body, and spider-web-like cracks suddenly appeared on the "Mo" divine pattern on Qi Mo's palm.

Unlike the dark lines of chaos erosion, these cracks glow with the luster of mother-of-pearl—

It was the long line of people seeking help at the entrance of the Women's Association that wore through the cocoon of rules, it was the dense red pen revisions on the edges of the script that scratched the membrane of narrative, and it was the light-transmitting holes carved out in the gears of heaven by 170,000 drops of mortal blood and tears.

When all the images condensed into a "female" star map on the national destiny map, the crack in the sky at the center of the gear suddenly collapsed!

There was no chaotic black fog as expected. Instead, 170,000 drops of glimmering blood and tears splashed out of it, and each drop reflected the awakened pupils of women of a certain era!

The shadow of the Nameless God emerged from the cracks, spiderweb-like cracks appearing on his mask for the first time. "When the Martial Emperor slashed down the 'Female' star track, the Heavenly Dao resisted with seventy-two thunder tribulations. Now—"

His voice was mixed with the roar of turning gears, "It is time for mortals to forge a new star map themselves."

Amid the hum of the gears, Qi Mo saw the "female" hexagram on the national destiny map transform into a bronze furnace.

The new inscription on the bronze plaque of the Jinling City Women's Protection Association, the script circled in red by the Hengdian screenwriters' room, and the bloody microphone that Su Mohui held high when receiving the award, these three mortal sparks of 2025 burst out with strong light at the same time, causing the remaining pages of "The Queen's Records" hidden in the Nine Heavens to tremble slightly.

The yellowed bamboo slips tore through the barrier of time and space. On the torn pages, Wu Zetian's red words "The sun and the moon are in the sky, shining on the earth" burned in the void and flew towards the reincarnation body of Su Mohui!