MM Racing Page 12
Page 12
"Hello!" Zhang Su's voice was a few decibels louder than usual, filled with undisguised joy as he looked intently at the young man behind the counter. "Finally, I've met someone who looks a lot like me! This is wonderful!"
The young man behind the counter was intently weighing some dried roots and stems on a small scale when he was startled by the sudden, enthusiastic greeting.
He suddenly raised his head, his amber eyes widening instantly, and the small scale slipped from his hand.
His gaze swept across Zhang Su's face like a scanner—his pure, night-black hair, his deep black eyes that seemed to absorb light, his clear and perfectly proportioned Eastern bone structure… This was something that no mixed-race person like him, who only carried a little bit of the blood of a distant ancestor, could compare to!
The surprise on the young man's face quickly turned into a mixture of shock, disbelief, and heartfelt awe.
He immediately put down the herbs and scales in his hands, and without the slightest hesitation, he placed his hands together in front of him, bowed deeply to Zhang Su, and performed an extremely respectful and ancient-style bow.
His voice trembled slightly with excitement, filled with heartfelt admiration:
"Your Excellency! Forgive my ignorance for failing to greet you from afar! The purity and nobility of the 'Dragon God Bloodline' flowing through your veins far surpasses anything my meager bloodline can achieve! This... this black hair, as if bestowed by the gods, these deep, abyss-like black eyes... I am truly fortunate to be able to see you today!"
Zhang Su's smile froze instantly, as if he had been doused with a bucket of ice water.
Dragon God Bloodline?
noble?
God-given black hair and black eyes?
How fortunate I am?
The overwhelming sense of kinship and joy at finding a "kindred spirit" was shattered by the other person's words, which were filled with awe, even a touch of fear, and were both respectful and complex.
He opened his mouth, looking at the young shop assistant in front of him who was bowing and whose attitude was humble to the point of being subservient. A huge sense of absurdity and an indescribable sense of "dislocation" welled up in his heart.
He thought he'd found a fellow townsman, but the first thing the other person did was elevate him to a godlike status? They even brought up some "dragon god bloodline"? This script is completely different from what he expected!
At this moment, he was thinking that this world... could it also use the caste system of the Afghans, where black hair and black eyes mean Brahmins?
The young shop assistant noticed that this distinguished gentleman remained silent, and his expression seemed somewhat...complex?
His heart tightened, fearing that he had spoken rashly and offended the important person.
He quickly bowed again, lowering his posture even further, and cautiously asked, "May I ask your honorable surname? May I ask so that I may serve you with all my heart?"
"What is your surname? What is it, young one?"
Although the pronunciation of these two phrases is strange, their structure and meaning are consistent with his understanding of Chinese.
For a moment, he felt as if he wasn't in a pharmacy in another world, but had returned to that familiar world.
A sudden surge of indescribable bitterness and loneliness welled up in his heart, causing him to sigh unconsciously.
"Zhang Su." His voice was somewhat low, carrying a hint of weariness that he himself was unaware of, as he uttered this name that also seemed out of place in this other world.
The young shop assistant's eyes lit up instantly, and a genuine joy bloomed on his face, as if the name Zhang Su itself contained some kind of sacred meaning.
"What a fine name! The surname 'Zhang' is a noble surname that has been passed down from ancient times among our descendants of the Dragon God!" His voice was filled with admiration. "Moreover, the order of your name, with the surname first and the given name last, is the most orthodox 'ancient order of honored names'! Only the direct descendants of the most orthodox family lineage, closest to the source of the Dragon God's bloodline, would follow such an ancient naming method! I am truly... truly blessed today!"
After he finished speaking, he bowed deeply again, his forehead almost touching the counter.
Dragon God bloodline? Direct descendant of nobility? Respected name and ancient order?
Zhang Su felt a throbbing sensation in his temples. What on earth was going on?
How did his ordinary name become a symbol of "ancient nobility" and "direct lineage" here? And even the bloodline of the Dragon God? This plot is getting more and more outrageous!
"Source Pivot!" Zhang Su practically roared in his heart, "What the hell is going on? What the hell is this 'Descendant of the Dragon God'? Did I transmigrate into an Eastern fantasy hybrid world instead of a steampunk world?!"
【Searching for you...】Yuan Shu's cold, calm voice rang out, but this time, it did not reply immediately.
It is searching for answers in a vast ocean of information.
After a silence of more than ten seconds, Yuan Shu's response finally emerged clearly from the depths of his mind:
[Information fragment extracted from the world's basic information flow (lower layer). Currently parseable content is as follows:]
[Target group: tentatively codenamed "Rare People" (based on their sparse population and physical characteristics).]
[Physical Characteristics: Your primary physiological characteristics tend to align with your perception of "Eastern race." Within this ethnic group, there exists a strict 'physiological lineage' grading system. The core criteria are: the closer the hair color and eye color are to pure black, and the fainter or odorless the natural body odor, the higher the perceived purity of bloodline, the so-called 'orthodox'. Your combination of 'black hair,' 'black eyes,' and 'no significant body odor' falls into the highest category within this system.]
[Social Structure: They mostly lived in close-knit family units with a tight organizational structure and strict hierarchy (presumably directly related to 'bloodline purity'). They maintained a high degree of isolation and secrecy from the outside world (referring to mainstream Western societies).]
[Extraordinary Connection: Highly Suspected. Multiple independent information stream fragments have been severely disrupted, pointing to extraordinary knowledge commonly held and passed down within this group, including but not limited to: potion recipes (non-mainstream church pathways), runes, magic circles, and techniques for manipulating/creating specific anomalies. They claim to be 'descendants of the Dragon God,' asserting that their power originates from the blessings and awakening of the ancient Dragon God's bloodline.]
[Information Integrity Assessment: Low. The core information flow is subject to high-intensity, multi-layered, complex '-*/marker*/concept encryption' and 'psychic shielding' interference, severely limiting the depth of resolution. Currently, only surface-level descriptive fragments can be obtained. To improve resolution, the following is required: 1. Contact with core members of the group or their texts (direct information source); 2. Enhance the host's own power to increase information penetration; 3. Encounter a specific key or triggering event (low probability).]
After listening, Zhang Su frowned even more deeply! There was a lot of information, but even more mysteries.
He astutely grasped the key point in Genshu's words:
"Yuan Shu, your search capabilities... are limited? I thought you were connected to the world's database and knew everything."
In his previous understanding, Yuan Shu was almost omniscient.
[Correcting cognitive biases.] Yuan Shu's voice was completely flat:
My information retrieval is not about accessing a 'database,' but rather about passively receiving and analyzing the 'flood of world information.'
[Concept Explanation: 'World Information Torrent': This refers to the underlying background 'noise' or 'string waves' formed by the endless 'information ripples' and 'existential echoes' spontaneously generated by all things (matter, energy, consciousness, events, and the interaction of rules) in the process of the world's existence and operation. It is omnipresent, constantly recording and transmitting every detail about this world, from the trajectory of a grain of dust to the rise and fall of a civilization, from the most basic material composition to the most profound law fluctuations. You can understand it as an invisible 'cosmic web' or 'sea of spacetime' that carries all the world's 'data'.]
One of my core functions is to access and 'listen' to this vast torrent, filtering, extracting, and translating 'information fragments' relevant to the host's current cognitive focus. The principle is similar to precisely capturing and interpreting starlight from a specific direction and frequency in the boundless cosmos.
[Restrictions and Interference: Not all information flows are 'open channels.' Some information flows are subject to 'encryption layers,' 'conceptual distortions,' 'inaccessibility,' or 'no results' by powerful 'supernatural forces' or 'world laws' themselves. This is equivalent to setting up information 'cocoons,' 'mazes,' or 'high walls' within the flow. While the underlying 'echo' of such protected/encrypted information still exists within the flow, its interpretable 'plaintext' portion is severely obscured or distorted.]
[Current Status: The core information stream regarding 'Rare People' and 'Descendants of the Dragon God' (involving bloodline essence, power source, core inheritance, settlement coordinates, etc.) has been detected as being covered by extremely strong 'encryption'. My current analytical capabilities are insufficient to effectively break through this high-strength encryption. Therefore, I can only obtain surface-level, un-deliberately hidden or distorted fragments of their 'public image' information—namely, physical characteristics, social structure outlines, and some claims.]
Zhang Su's mind raced as he processed Yuan Shu's explanation, which was both sci-fi and fantastical.
After a three-second silence, he concluded:
"In other words, the true core secrets of these 'Dragon God Descendants' are like a safe locked with countless supernatural combination locks. The information deluge only tells you that this safe exists, and even tells you roughly what it looks like, but you can't 'see' what's inside at all, because the 'decryption key' isn't in our hands, and our 'lock-picking technology' isn't strong enough to forcibly unlock it and explore its interior, right?"
[Accurate summary.] Yuan Shu responded concisely.
Zhang Su's gaze returned to the young shop assistant who still maintained a respectful posture, and the sense of absurdity churning in his heart was gradually replaced by a strong interest.
The ability to apply "conceptual information encryption" to the core information of the entire race, allowing even beings like Yuan Shu to only see the tip of the iceberg... it seems that the 'extraordinary power' they possess is not weak either!
Book 1: Chapter 12: A Visit, A Home in the Slums
The pharmacy was silent, as neither of them spoke.
The young shop assistant maintained a slight bow, holding his breath and not daring to urge them in the slightest. In his education and understanding, any initiative to disturb such a noble person of such pure blood and adherence to ancient order was an overstepping of bounds.
He only needed to wait quietly for the other person to speak.
Zhang Su had also figured out his next strategy. If he wanted to obtain information, he needed to rely on the image of this "benefactor" in the other party's eyes, and only on this basis could he gain a deeper understanding of the other party.
His face regained its composure, with a perfectly measured air of detachment, and he asked in a steady voice, "What's your name? Which family do you belong to?"
The young shop assistant immediately replied respectfully, "In response to your question, my name is Mingyuan, Mingyuan Qiu."
“Our family belongs to the ‘yuan’ generation of the Qiu clan.” He paused, his tone carrying a habitual, deep-rooted humility. “Because of our thin bloodline and poor appearance, we are only considered ‘sixth-rank’ in the clan, so we can only be called by this name and are not worthy of having our surname in front.”
He spoke the term "sixth-rank mark" so naturally, as if stating a perfectly ordinary fact, yet it clearly indicated his position in the family's strict hierarchy—close to the bottom.
“mingyuan·qiu?” After hearing this, Zhang Su analyzed in his mind which three characters this pronunciation corresponded to. This Brother Mingyuan didn’t even know how to write a pictographic character to express it. How did he know which mingyuan·qiu it was?
"Forget it, I'm too lazy to delve into it. Maybe the rare race in this world doesn't even have pictographic writing, and uses phonetic writing like the people in small Southeast Asian countries. I'll just translate it into a more elegant name, let's call him Mingyuan Qiu. The Qiu family will naturally be the Qiu family."
As for the "sixth class markings," although he didn't know the specifics of the classification, the word "six" and his self-deprecating tone were enough to indicate that he was of low status, so let's just say he belonged to a class like the sixth class.
He nodded slightly and continued in a calm tone, "Does your Qiu family also have a branch in Muyun Port?"
Mingyuan Qiu immediately replied, his tone carrying a hint of identification with his family's roots here: "Yes, Your Excellency. About sixty years ago, my great-grandfather's generation separated from the family and came to Muyun Port by sea to make a living."
“Back then it wasn’t easy. We started from scratch and worked our way up little by little. By my father’s generation and my generation, we’ve finally established ourselves and opened this pharmacy. We’re doing alright now. The fourth generation of our family is about to be born.” A simple smile appeared on his face when he mentioned the new life.
"Yes, it's certainly not easy," Zhang Su commented simply, then changed the subject, asking in a somewhat matter-of-fact tone, "I'm new here and would like to visit your elders here and get to know them. When would be a convenient time for you?"
"You want to visit my elders?!" Mingyuan Qiu's eyes lit up instantly, his voice rising slightly with excitement, and his face instantly filled with immense honor and a hint of panic. "This...this is wonderful! It's a tremendous honor for our 'Yuan' generation branch that you're willing to visit our home! There's no such thing as inconvenience! You can come anytime you want, I'll show you the way, right now!"
He spoke at breakneck speed, and as he spoke, he began to deftly tidy up the small items on the counter, putting them into the drawer under the counter and locking them.
"Won't going now affect your shop opening?" Zhang Su asked somewhat embarrassedly.
Mingyuan Qiu said matter-of-factly, "It doesn't matter if the shop closes for a while! Making money is not as important as serving you! Please wait a moment, I'll lock the door right away!"
He moved swiftly, completely without the restraint he had shown earlier, quickly closing and fastening the heavy wooden window panels facing the street one by one, and finally took out the key and locked the brass door with a "click".
The light inside the pharmacy dimmed instantly, and the pervasive herbal scent seemed to settle down a bit.
Mingyuan Qiu turned around, his face showing a mixture of tension, excitement, and solemnity. He bowed deeply to Zhang Su and made an extremely respectful "please" gesture: "Sir, this way! Our home is in the back alley, very close."
Instead of taking Zhang Su out directly, he respectfully led him to the back of the shop. There was an inconspicuous, heavy wooden door covered with sheet metal.
Mingyuan took out another key and unlocked the door. A stronger smell of damp mold, rotting garbage, and cheap liquor hit him.
Seeing the other party's attitude of closing the shop without hesitation and treating receiving him as the top priority, Zhang Su once again deeply felt the almost rule-like weight contained in this mysterious group of "black hair and black eyes".
He suppressed the helplessness of being pushed along and his growing curiosity, nodded, and walked towards the door.
Soon, he will follow this sixth-rank patterned person named Mingyuan Qiu into the world of the Qiu clan, a branch of the "Dragon God's Descendants," hidden in a corner of a bustling port city.
“Sir, there are some things I need to explain first. The road to my house... is actually a bit difficult to walk because there are many poor people in the back alley. When they gather together, the environment always becomes terrible.” Mingyuan Qiu stepped aside to let Zhang Su go first, his face apologetic. “Please bear with me.”
“It’s okay, I can handle it.” Zhang Su nodded and walked out.
The scene before him instantly transported him from the relatively clean and orderly space of the pharmacy into a completely different world.
This is a back alley separated from the bustling "West Coast Corridor" by only a wall, yet it seems to be a corner forgotten by the sun.
The narrow alleyway could barely accommodate two or three people walking side by side. Above them, a dense network of clotheslines crisscrossed like a spider web, hanging with faded or stained old clothes, dripping water that splashed into the muddy puddles that had long since formed on the ground, creating murky ripples.
On both sides are tall buildings with mottled back walls, large patches of plaster peeling off to reveal dark bricks underneath, covered with damp moss and dark mold.
The corner was piled with rotten vegetable leaves, fish entrails, empty wine bottles, and all sorts of unidentifiable household garbage, making it a paradise for flies and rats.
Even more shocking were the people. Along both sides of the alley, many people lay sprawled out, either against the cold, damp walls or huddled in slightly drier corners next to piles of garbage.
Most of them were young and middle-aged men, wearing tattered, oil-stained, and sweat-stained coarse cloth jackets or sailor uniforms, clearly dockworkers or low-level laborers.
Some of them used their tattered bundles as pillows, while others had no bundles at all, lying directly on the cold, dirty ground, covering their faces with a tattered straw hat, their chests rising and falling with heavy breathing.
Most people were awake, their eyes empty and numb, staring blankly at the sliver of gray sky above the alley, or looking blankly at Zhang Su and Mingyuan Qiu, these two incongruous intruders.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat, cheap tobacco, hangovers, and a deep weariness and despair.
Several emaciated children were rummaging through the garbage. When they saw someone coming, they immediately shrank back into the shadows like frightened little animals, leaving only their wary and hungry eyes showing.
A muffled, heart-wrenching cough came from a corner.
Zhang Su slowed his pace and frowned deeply.
The Muyun Harbor he encountered after his journey was bustling with activity at the docks, lined with shops on the main street, humming with steam buses, and symbolized by towering chimneys representing industrial power.
He thought that although it was busy and noisy, it was at least a place full of opportunities where people could barely make ends meet.
The scene before him was like a bucket of cold sewage, extinguishing his superficial fantasies about this otherworldly port city.
“This back alley is truly heartbreaking…” Zhang Su sighed. “I thought that even if not everyone in Muyun Port was wealthy, at least the beggars on the street could bask in the sun and have a relatively comfortable place to lie down. I never expected that people even more miserable than beggars would gather here.”
His gaze swept over the figures sleeping in the mud and garbage, his eyes filled with complex emotions.
Mingyuan Qiu followed half a step behind Zhang Su. When he heard Zhang Su's words, he didn't show much surprise on his face. Instead, he showed a knowing look of "I knew it".
He sighed softly, his voice low, carrying a sense of detachment from reality:
"Your Excellency, the 'West Coast Corridor' you see is merely a glamorous facade of Twilight Harbor. That's how port cities are; they're like giant magnets."
He carefully led the way, avoiding the dirt and puddles on the ground, while explaining in a low voice.
"Outsiders only see merchant ships coming and going, gold coins jingling, the guild building resplendent in gold, and nobles riding in gilded carriages to and from the club. They all think that there is gold everywhere here, and that you can pick up money just by bending down."
"So, poor people from all directions, farmers who couldn't make a living, gamblers in debt, desperate people who wanted to gamble, and those pitiful people whose hometowns had been ravaged by disaster... all flocked in like a tide. They all harbored dreams of getting rich and living a good life."
"But the port only needs so many workers. Unloading cargo, moving boxes, cleaning ship holds... there are plenty of people vying to do these jobs, so wages are being driven down. The chamber of commerce, ship owners, foremen... layer by layer, the amount left for these laborers is barely enough to buy some of the cheapest black bread and diluted liquor, so that they have the energy to continue working tomorrow."
"As for where they live? They can't afford decent houses in the city at all, so they can only squeeze into these dark and damp back alleys, under bridges, or in the gaps of dock warehouses like rats."
"And what about those who actually make a lot of money?"
Qiu Mingyuan's gaze fell upon the spire of the tall building that was faintly visible at the end of the alley.
"Big merchants, ship owners, factory owners, and those powerful families with connections... they live in garden villas on the hilltop or in the inner city, ride in steam carriages, and are accompanied by bodyguards. Their wealth and power are like two completely unrelated worlds to this place. This Muyun Harbor is the shadow of this city, clearly showing the phrase 'the rich are rolling in money, and the poor are waiting to die'."
Zhang Su listened silently, the mud beneath his feet seemed so sticky that it made his steps heavy.
The scene depicted by Qiu Mingyuan was so real and jarring that it reminded him of his original world.