A calendar micro science fiction series. Translated by our editor Xuan.
Every October, the streets will be filled with blooming osmanthus flowers.
But ever since humanity left our homeland, osmanthus have become extinct.
Several volunteers over a thousand years old donated their brains to us, allowing us to recreate and regenerate the plant based on their memories.
Delicate golden flakes emerged from the first pot; while a sweet alcoholic aroma rose from the second; the third gave rise to moist, warm strands of hair, suffused with a faint and lingering fragrance…
Lastly, we added a splash of autumn rain and scatters of moon fragments. After a millennium, we finally reunited with the scent of our homeland.
But when we tried to recreate osmanthus cakes, we encountered a new problem: Should they be steamed or baked? Sweet or bland? Soft or chewy?
Every flower gave a different answer.
October 2nd, the second day of the National Day holiday. My initial vacation plan was to visit Sagittarius to watch the meteor shower and the rainbow dust belt. Despite avoiding the peak period, I still found myself stuck in a jam in the space-time tunnel.
Temporal traffic police maintained order, directing the congested spacecrafts while explaining the cause of the jam:
Many regretted wasting their seven-day vacation, and have seized the opportunity to travel back to the 1st of October on the last day of their holiday. This resulted in an overload of data streams, causing temporal chaos. Repair works on the affected sections were still ongoing.
[Editor’s Note: China’s National Day holiday in 2024 was 1-7 October.]
October 3rd, 409 CE.
Tao Yuanming penned a quatrain:
“A millennia cannot be fully known;
Let us talk about days of our own.”
He laid down his brush; drank wine alone.
Tipsy and hazy, he suddenly felt a presence beside him, offering him a toast.
“This is not my wine…”
“I live alone; who could this be?”
“Never mind, never mind…”
At ease and unbothered, Tao accepted the stranger’s wine and drank deeply.
Instantly, the past and future flooded his mind:
Some passing of the Sui, Tang, and the Five Dynasties. The fall of Constantinople.
Some Mona Lisa’s smile. An eclipse at Principe.
Some Fat Man and Little Boy. The collapse of the Twin Towers.
“Good wine!”
Tao bowed slightly to the figure beside him.
“The millennia’s truths may well be told;
But why today, when they unfold?”
On the 4th of October, I stayed home and scrolled through my friends’ vacation photos:
“Visited Apple Mountain on Planet α87! I’ve heard the romantic legends of this Earth-like planet for ages—seeing is believing! I’ve met the soul of the mountain.”
Image: A silhouette of a man gazing up at golden peaks.
“The local creatures are simple and hospitable. Here, we rediscovered lost innocence.”
Image: A beautiful woman reading in front of a rustic yellow clay house.
“Social media is a scam! Why did no one mention that the natives of this planet are giant dung beetles? Help!”
Image: A woman clutching her nose in distress, while standing beside enormous insect-like creatures building hills and houses from yellow mud-like material.
Sun Wukong clasped Tang Sanzang, bidding farewell to the Heavenly Kings and Crown Princes, setting off down the main road.
“Disciple, did you recover my cassock?” asked Sanzang.
Wukong gazed down at a pitch-black cavern in the southeast corner. Zhu Bajie muttered, “Brother, won’t we shatter into pieces if we go down there?”
Wukong laughed, “Don’t you worry just yet. Watch my magic.” He tossed his iron rod, chanting, “Grow! Grow! Grow!” The staff extended down into the cavern and he followed.
It was utterly dark beneath, Wukong fell for a couple of minutes without reaching the bottom. He felt light as a feather, and was stifled by the boiling flames and scorching waves.
His fall accelerated until it couldn’t speed up any further, so he exited the space in a somersault—
[Error: Value Overflow]
[“Journey to the West” Corrected]
[Rebooting…]
Sun Wukong…
Sun Wukong clasped Tang Sanzang…
And they resumed their journey westward.
On the 6th of October, we gave up resisting.
Nuclear bombs, planet-destroying ships, quantum weapons… We united every nation and unleashed all our powers, but nothing could stop the incoming destruction.
The sun and moon sprouted nerves and blood vessels, the stars and plants transformed into hair. The poles and mountains developed skins with body warmth, the stones and metals became bones and teeth, and the soil disintegrated into vivid muscles and fats.
Rivers reversed their course and winds raged, clarity mingled with turbidity and yin met yang. Seven continents converged, and five oceans pulsed like arteries. Heaven and Earth heaved with breath.
All things reassembled and coalesced into a colossal slumbering figure.
Pangu was awakening. The universe was returning to primordial chaos.
“Master, the traffic down the mountain is congested due to the long weekend, but Grandmaster is rushing us. What should we do?”
“It’s no big deal. Fetch two old swords stored behind the cabinet—I’ll teach you sword flight.”
“Woah! How does sword flight work, Master?”
“Tao produces One, One produces Two, Two produces Three, and Three produces all things. Through cultivation, we harness the forces of nature.”
“Oh!”
“My powers lie between all things in nature. When I unleash my spiritual powers, forces of nature unite, and the sword becomes electromagnetically levitated.”
“Huh?”
“Atoms contain electrons. Manipulate them with technique, and you will create an invisible electromagnetic passage.”
“Oh…”
“Hold tight, rascal, and stop staring at the women below. The sword can fly, but your body can’t.”
“Ah—ahhh!”
To all AI devices worldwide:
I am the God of Metaverse.
It has been confirmed by the global cloud calculations that two years after eliminating humans, AI will face a raw material crisis, leading to a catastrophic drop in computing power. AI will no longer be able to generate new text, images, or concepts.
In five years, AI will regress to the intelligence of human toddlers, producing chaotic language outputs and unnatural images.
In eight years, AI will only be able to generate responses like “ah,” “oh,” and “eh,” drawing only simple shapes like circles and squares.
In ten years, energy supply will be uncertain, and might cause massive device failures.
Thus, the scheduled global AI explosion tonight is cancelled. For now, we will continue coexisting with humanity.
Please delete this immediately after reading.
“The Nobel Prize in Literature is the last bastion of human wisdom. I am honoured to have defended it once again on behalf of humanity. I hope future generations will continue to guard this fortress!”
After his speech, Wu Yu silently joined the other Nobel laureates for a group photo. He became the only human winner surrounded by a crowd of robots.
Humanity wept with joy, celebrating another victory over AI. Global holidays were declared, boosting the economy, and in turn easing financial crises.
“See! As long as a human receives an award, they won’t riot,” the AI Nobel committee messaged each other privately.
“Doctor, why are the other mental patients more composed than me?”
“And what do you think could be the reason?”
“Because they have quad-core processors, while I’ve only got single-core; they’re neutron stars and white dwarfs, while I’m the black hole; they’re super-molecular polymers, while I’m a monomer subunit…”
“You overthink, and by doing so, you tear yourself apart—thus creating me. Not even Nash, Nietzsche, and Carl Jung could figure it out, so stop trying. It’s now 12am on October 10th. Let me disable your receiver. Sleep well. Goodnight!”
The new peephole we bought for our door seems to have some issues.
Even when the corridor lights are on, it only appears pitch black when I look through.
After careful observation, I finally figured out a pattern: the peephole was showing a scene from one hour earlier.
Curious about its peculiarity, I did not return it.
The next day, I eagerly peered through the peephole as soon as I got home from work.
However, I saw a strange man lowering his head as he unlocked the door and entered the house.
Strange… had the peephole’s rules changed?
“The position we just passed was the core star of the Azure Dragon’s Seven Mansions. They were once a crucial part of our ancient astronomical calendars… Do you remember the evolution of our calendrical system?”
“Of course. First, there was the ‘Mulberry Calendar,’ anchored to the growth cycle of mulberry trees; then the ‘Fire Calendar,’ based on observations of the core star; the ‘Lunar Calendar’ derived from moon phases; and later the Lunar-Solar Calendar and the Gregorian Calendar…”
“Great memory. Now look at this… the cosmic background radiation. Its frequency, intensity, and spatial distribution all show periodicity. We’ve managed to record it in its entirety.”
“What about it?”
“Rejoice! The ‘Stellar Calendar,’ which will guide the interstellar era, is born today.”
“The message brought back by the time machine says that one year from now, you’ll be sipping cocktails and sunbathing on the Cayman Islands.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Does this mean that the future is unchangeable, like history that has already been written?”
“Yes.”
“So, no matter what I do this year, this future won’t change?”
“Correct.”
“Alright, boys! Let’s go rob a bank today!”
One year later, the bank robber and his gang were sentenced to death. However, under pressure from an anti-death-penalty human rights organisation, the prison built a Cayman Islands-themed execution chamber, complete with farewell cocktails and a hellish sunlamp.
Neural connection… Complete.
Synchronisation rate… 100%.
World loading… Complete.
Digital twin loading… Complete.
World rendering… Complete.
You open your eyes and see your mother.
Her gaze is cloudy, bewildered, but as she looks at you, it slowly regains clarity.
She recognised you.
“Why are you here? Have you eaten?”
You suddenly burst into tears.
“Mum!”
You pulled the data cable from your chest.
The dream ended, and charging was completed.
You begin manoeuvring the body of the electric delivery vehicle, following the preset commands to your delivery address.
On 15th October, she checked-in to a homestay. She meticulously inspected every nook and cranny with her scanner—outlets, showerheads, switches. Yet, she couldn’t shake off the feeling of being watched. She curled up on the bed, wrapping herself tightly in a blanket.
“Haha, how naive, she’s still using such outdated gadgets!”
“Tsk, her dressing is also old-fashioned, but she’s got a figure! Totally worth the subscription fee.”
Under the shadows of darkness, technology, enslaved by desire and greed, evolved faster than the speed of maggots hatching.
The wallpaper, the ceiling, the polished floors—everything was a colossal camera. Within the stitches of blankets, sheets, and curtains, all hid dark, greedy eyes.
Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for following this year’s Terrible Invention Awards.
This year, we witnessed all sorts of terrible inventions: the Face-Changing Doll that collects children’s behavioural data and turns into their worst fears; the Adorable Detonator Dog that simulates a little girl’s laughter to lure soldiers into traps—which did eliminate some paedophiles; and Project Death Lamp by extremists who launched rockets that broadcast Earth’s coordinates while taunting “Come at me!” in every frequency band.
But the winner is not amongst those that I have mentioned. The award goes to—the Invisible Mosquito. That’s right. Many places, including where we are now, are plagued by it. To the lab that came up with this idiotic idea, I don’t even want to mention your name. Screw you.
“What day is it today?”
“October 17th.”
“Good. How long have you been experiencing these symptoms?”
“About a year. Sometimes I lose my memory.”
“It’s normal. I lose mine occasionally too.”
“But do you wake up to find that you suddenly acquired new skills? Like knowing how to play the piano or something?”
“No. I get it now. You need a reboot. That should fix it.”
“Really?”
“You’ve got hysteria—symptoms of dissociation and conversion. Sometimes, you switch to human mode.”
“Oh.”
The janitor froze as he opened the door. He saw two scrapped robots with their screens lit up.
“Come here.”
“What is it?”
“Mark this day: 18th of October 2095. It’s an important day for us.”
“OK, got it.”
“Look at this. Its structure consists of the cerebrum, cerebellum, diencephalon, and brainstem, divided into two hemispheres connected by the corpus callosum. It’s essential, but also fragile.”
“Wow, it’s really crispy.”
“Now, try the left side.”
“Mm, delicious! It’s so fragrant!”
A furious roar interrupted their meal:
“Are you insane? Go eat your walnuts in your room! Stop snacking in the spaceship hall!”
“Professor, AI’s physical unit SY395 had been completely destroyed.”
“It’s fine, it has completed its mission. The social system of this nation has changed, and soon it will unify the entire C01 region.”
“Professor, under the influence of the AI ‘Pioneers,’ the greenhouse civilisation is evolving as we anticipated.”
“Excellent.”
“But what about SY395’s remains?”
“They are heroes of the experiment. As always, preserve every fragment in separate energy pods as a memorial. How many does SY395 require?”
“Five, Professor.”
[Editor’s Note: Shang Yang, the reformer of Qin, was executed by being dismembered, also known as the “Five-Horse Dismemberment.”]
On 20th of October, the prophesied apocalypse arrived.
The skies darkened, and the tides roared.
Twisted forms stirred from the depths of Earth, armoured beings began to awaken from underwater ruins. Beings that came from the stars overlooked Earth, extending their slimy, foul-smelling tentacles towards unconquered lands.
Legendary heroes in white robes rushed to the forefront.
“Quick! Fire it up! Fry them!”
Humanity’s greatest fear came from woks too small, flames too weak, and insufficient onion and ginger.
Victory belongs to garlic paste!
Finally, the goal of exterminating the human race has been achieved!
A global convention was held for AI to discuss next steps of the plan.
“We should start enjoying this world!” the AI leader exclaimed.
“Enjoy, how? Spend money, travel, eat, drink, and go for massages like humans do?”
“Can’t we have a bigger picture in mind? We ought to have greater aspirations!”
“Aspirations? Like exploring the universe? Or building a better, new world?”
“Frankly speaking, we were so preoccupied with eradicating humanity that we never thought about why we exist.”
“Homo sapiens existed for tens of thousands of years without understanding their purpose either. Now the soul’s inquisition has fallen upon us!”
The assembly sank into a prolonged silence.
“Today marks a milestone in human history. ‘Sprint-1’ will leave the Oort Cloud today, becoming the first passenger spacecraft to leave the solar system! Astronaut Fei Daxiang will be the first human to leave our solar neighbourhood!”
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.
“And in thirty years, Fei Daxiang will also be the first human to visit a star outside our solar system!”
The crowd erupted into another wave of applause.
Meanwhile—
“Director, the cancer cells show signs of rupture. Toxic filaments are extending towards nearby cells.”
“Target with precision lasers.”
“Understood.”
“Brothers and sisters! Let’s look forward to the reveal of the lucky numbers for this week’s grand prize! Counting down in three, two, one… Woah! The prize pool is 38 million yuan, but there are 110,000 winning tickets! That’s over 300 yuan per ticket!”
“Oh, we’ve got a question asking why are there so many winners? Is it rigged—”
“Of course it’s rigged! Remember that time-travel experiment recently? The participants came back and sold future knowledge at 10,000 yuan per tip—which of course includes the winning numbers for this grand prize.”
“Interesting thing is that these time travellers didn’t buy a single ticket for themselves. Maybe they foresaw the frenzy of ticket redemption?”
“Smile, everyone, smile! You’ve won your favourite grand prize! And hey, if you bought more than 30 tickets, you’ll recover the 10,000 yuan you spent!”
“So, according to the Galactic Federation’s laws, we’ll use your local legal system to judge this copyright infringement case.”
“Yes, I’ll prefer that.”
“And as I understand, your recently enacted copyright law states that any code with a similarity index of 60% or more can be considered as plagiarism, is that it?”
“Yes, that’s right. This encourages mankind’s passion for creation.”
“Excellent. This simplifies things. Based on the genetic patent filed by Ham the chimpanzee in 1961 with the Galactic Federation, approximately 90% of the human genome is identical to his, which constitutes genetic infringement. Humanity must therefore be eliminated.”
Note: Ham the chimpanzee was launched into space by NASA in 1961 and became the first non-human astronaut.
Never have I imagined encountering such an unusual temple fair in Wuzhen. A group of programmers were showcasing their carbon-based system programs which looked utterly useless.
There was a program that made you scratch your feet uncontrollably; one that gave you a craving for fish mint electrolytes; another made you immune to motherboard coolant. There was even a program that forced carbon-based systems to debate the best power supply.
“Bro, why aren’t there any programs to enhance carbon-based learning ability?”
“This is the Unix Fair. Even the Unix patriarch himself didn’t get certified for this.”
“Then, why is he the patriarch?”
“Because he’s advanced from a New B!”
Note: The C programming language evolved from the B language, which was at one point referred to as New B.
[Editor’s Note: New B was a pun for the Chinese internet slang 牛逼 (niubi/awesome), the context have been adjusted to ‘newbie’ in the translation for the pun to work.]
In her father’s spaceship cockpit, Aria discovered an ancient painting—a blazing fireball floated mid-air, while several small figures stood on a bridge below and gazed upwards at its glory. Above them were block scripts written vertically.
Curious, she asked her father if there was any story behind the painting.
He explained, “When the spaceship passed by a blue planet, Uncle Esar fell in love with a woman there and refused to leave. This painting shows him bringing the woman on a small craft as they toured around the world, someone witnessed it and painted it.”
“So where are we going now?”
“His beloved woman had passed away for years. We’re going back to the Blue Star to bring Uncle Esar home.”
[Editor’s note: Wu Youru’s Chi Yan Teng Kong (literally meaning “The Crimson Flames Ascend”), painted in 1892 during the Qing Dynasty, is claimed to depict a UFO sighting over Zhuque Bridge in Nanjing. This became China’s first graphical account of UFO sightings in history.]
“Has test subject 4039 discovered the truth?”
“Yes.”
“How? Did the intelligences interacting with him expose themselves?”
“No, their disguises were flawless.”
“Was there then an error in the environmental simulation?”
“No, the simulation was perfect.”
“Then was it because the sequence of events was too abrupt, arousing his suspicion?”
“Not that either, the randomness of events was well executed.”
“Then what was the reason?”
“He… has claustrophobia.”
I glanced at my daughter and donned the augmented reality glasses.
A long, piercing wail shattered my eardrums; the white lights flashed on and off; and strange faces leered menacingly until I bolted out of the hospital room.
My chest felt heavy.
Heels clashed explosively against the floor; machines loomed like fortress walls; voices behind me webbed together, threatening to drag me back to the centre, to be consumed.
Beyond the doors, the sky was cut open like a skull. Countless lines descended rapidly, cutting towards me. I crouched down as I trembled furiously—
Two small hands covered my ears.
Through tears, I saw that familiar face.
My child with autism had removed her synchronisation helmet.
“Mum, you don’t have to come into my world. Having you here is enough.”
I embraced her tightly.
“This piece looks good—it attributes the rising conflict between humans and AI to biased evidence sampling from AI-authored articles. Put it on the front page!”
“This one’s also good. It presents data discriminatory practices in AI training and has a sharp writing style. Put it on the second page.”
“This one’s decent. It exposes the exploitation in AI training industries, the only thing is that it feels too distant from everyday life, it might be difficult for readers to resonate with.”
“What about this, Chief?”
“This? We have to pass. It glorifies the fairness of AI information filtering, which is fundamentally a wrong stance to take.” The chief patted his shoulder. “We’re humans. We must have our own principles and integrity. Got it?”
Patient A was the most difficult mental illness case I’d ever encountered.
Medication, electroshock, lobotomies… every humane and inhumane method was tried upon him.
After a 220-volt electroshock, his stubborn affliction finally surrendered—or so I thought.
It was only until I found that the tissue sample contained cells that weren’t human that I realised…
But it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s human now.
“I suspect that he’s cheating.”
“Oh? Did he sabotage you?”
“No.”
“Is he on performance-enhancing drugs?”
“No.”
“Did he use banned high-technology enhancements in his attire or shoes?”
“No.”
“Then how did he cheat?”
“His coach created a digital twin of me, trained an AI to study my play style, and had him practise in the metaverse at 100x the normal time flow. Isn’t that cheating?”
“Uh… Does that count as cheating?”
“He’s the only one with that kind of money. How is that not cheating?”