Chapter 31: This is not an Awakening lesson.
It's about peeling off your human skin and tearing apart your self-righteous "existence".
See how many bones of yours can hold up the truth.
If you can hold on - you probably deserve to live your own life.Are You Alive?
Not long ago, Jason sent out a comprehensive message covering all unmonitored areas of the school, with only one instruction: "Fire watchers, gather on the school playground."
Section One: Do you really want to live?
At night, the crowd was surging, and countless figures came from all directions. Had it not been for the system's reminder of "safety", they would probably have been frightened by this gloomy momentum.
Silence lay over the training yard like the deep sea.
The wind stirred banners, but no words were spoken.
Three thousand people stood gathered, each with dust in their eyes—not fear, not hope, but a numb inertia of survival.
Jason swept his gaze across the crowd. His voice came down like hammering iron:
"Do you—really—want to live?"
It was as if that question had pulled a bone from the soul and smashed it onto the ground.
Not "Have you eaten enough?"
Not "Is anyone still breathing?"
But—how much of what you call "alive" remains?
Some nodded instinctively, others frowned. Some bowed their heads; some chuckled bitterly. An old veteran at the front muttered:
"Isn't just being alive good enough?"
Jason snapped back instantly:
"Then tell me—what does 'good enough' even mean?"
He pointed sharply:
"You think hiding in basements under ruins, surviving on a single, filthy water tank for dozens of people—'good enough'?"
"You think tiptoeing around people who won't kill you immediately is 'good enough'?"
"You think staying silent, not resisting, not standing out—living like rats—is the same as living?"
His voice rose, each word cutting through the air like wind slicing past the ears.
"You're not living—you're being allowed to exist."
"You're not people—you're test subjects. You thank whoever gives you a drop of water. You call someone kind if they don't hit you."
"You say, 'Staying alive is all that matters.' But how long can you really survive like this?"
A boy in the crowd stood slowly, trembling:
"But… we have no choice. We've got nowhere else to go."
Jason locked eyes on him:
"You think you're living in a world where there's no choice?"
"No. You're living in a system that makes you think there's no choice."
A ripple ran through the crowd.
Lisa murmured to Zhao Mingxuan:
"This isn't enlightenment—it's soul-splitting."
Jason continued:
"Have you forgotten? In the old days, 'alive' wasn't a shameful word. Being alive meant having choices, having a voice, having the right to resist, to matter."
"Now—you don't even know when—or whether—it's safe to say 'no' anymore."
A middle-aged woman shouted from the back:
"But we're scared not because we're weak—we're scared because we know—if you stick your head up, you die!"
Jason fell silent for three seconds, then nodded.
"Yes. You're right to be afraid. Because you're smart."
"But if the smart ones stay silent forever, the world will only ever belong to fools."
He turned to all the silent ones:
"You're not living. You're prolonging an observation cycle with no meaning."
"You're not people—you're statistics. The only reason you're still here is because someone above thinks you're still useful."
—
Zhao Mingxuan suddenly spoke:
"So what are we supposed to do? We get caught just by speaking. Just glancing at the wrong person gets us watched. How do you expect us to 'live'?"
Jason replied calmly:
"I'm not here to tell you how to win."
He raised his right hand slowly. The system projected a line of text into the air—words from Xunzi:
"The flaw of man lies in wanting to teach others. To teach without transforming is technique. To understand without acting is deception."
"You don't not know how to live."
"You're just afraid to live as you believe you should."
—
Jason stepped off the stage and walked among the crowd.
He didn't shout. He simply walked, speaking softly:
"Do you know what 'domestication' really means?"
"It's not when you lower your head. It's when you no longer believe lifting it is even possible."
His eyes swept over a middle-aged man in tattered uniform, a broken student ID pinned to his chest.
"Were you a teacher?"
The man hesitated, then nodded.
"Did you know that seventy percent of children in this city can't read before age thirteen?"
"Can you still teach them?"
The man whispered:
"No one lets me anymore."
Jason smirked coldly:
"Not that no one lets you. You just stopped believing teaching mattered."
"You weren't defeated. You were hollowed out by forgetting."
—
A young man raised his hand:
"Are you saying we should fight until the end? Die trying?"
Jason turned to him, voice sharp as a blade:
"I'm not telling you to die."
"I'm telling you to stop fearing death so much that you turn 'living' itself into shame."
"If you don't even realize what it means to live for yourself once—what's the point of you being alive at all?"
The system automatically projected another warning phrase, from Lüshi Chunqiu:
"To live without knowing why, fearing death more than life, is unworthy of being born."
—
Someone barked angrily:
"Then tell us—what is being alive?"
Jason looked at him, paused, then said:
"Being alive means you have the right to say 'no'—even if the whole world says 'yes.'"
"Being alive means you can protect those around you—not by hiding, but by making the world understand—hurting them has a price."
"Being alive means your breath isn't just air in your lungs—but fire in your will."
—
The crowd grew still. A few younger ones in the back quietly stood—not to leave, but to hear better.
Jason lifted his eyes to the sky. FuXi whispered in his ear:
[Faith ignition zone × Resonance value exceeded 70%]
[Note: Non-verbal activation node forming × Meme implantation in progress]
[Suggested projection – Shangshu · Dayu Mo]
The system projected a line of ancient text into the air:
"The human heart is perilous; the Way-heart is subtle. Only with sincerity and singleness, may one hold the center."
Jason stared at the characters, voice softening:
"We're not alive to endure. Not to make others think we're harmless."
"We're alive so that somewhere—just one place—in this world, there might still be a trace of humanity."
He looked down at the crowd, tone gentler than ever before:
"So—do you—really—want to live?"
This time, silence did not come.
One person stood, firm:
"I do."
Another called out:
"Me too!"
"I don't want to wait for orders anymore!"
"I don't want to wait to be saved!"
"I want to live—once—like a real person!"
—
System prompt synced in real-time:
[ARGUS node expansion × Ignition core × Emotional embedding chain locked]
[S.E.E.D module feedback: Personality awakening zone formed × Gray Wing Thermal Core established]
[Next phase: Constructing – Why We Must Keep Living]
Jason closed his eyes, whispering:
"The fire… is starting."
Section II: What Makes You Think You Can Survive?
The air on the field was like the calm after a volcanic eruption.
The heat from earlier hadn't fully faded yet. Jason stood on the stage, watching those who had just shouted, "I want to live."
"Good," he said. "You want to live."
He paused, then his tone went ice-cold:
"But—tell me. What makes you think you can survive?"
—
The air froze.
No one answered. Because everyone—had thought about this question before, but never dared to answer.
Jason raised one finger:
"Do you think staying silent keeps you safe?"
He turned to a young man on the left, who looked away.
"Do you think staying hidden, never standing out, lets you survive?"
He glanced at an old woman whose hands trembled.
"Do you think obeying their rules, avoiding trouble, never speaking truth, never organizing—makes you safe?"
Jason laughed coldly:
"Then let me tell you—those people… are all dead."
—
He turned and gestured. ARGUS projected files into the air—profiles of those erased in the past.
A nameless mechanic—marked for "contact with suspicious nodes"—deprived of shelter, found dead in a drainage ditch two days later.
A library night keeper—labeled for "excessive access to pre-collapse data"—disappeared after five days of "cold processing."
A "good citizen" who'd never joined factions, never organized anything—marked as a "structural risk source"—killed in an "internal correction action."
Jason's voice was low, merciless:
"You didn't die because you did something wrong."
"You died because you could have done something wrong."
—
A middle-aged man stood, shouting:
"Then what do you want us to do? Fight them? We have nothing! They've got drones, cores, recognition nets, surveillance towers! We don't even have a decent gun!"
Jason nodded, looking at him coldly:
"That's true."
"You can't fight. You can't win. You're not even ready to understand why you should fight."
He stepped off the stage, walking into the crowd:
"You think the rulers maintain power through force?"
"No. They keep control by making you self-judge, self-cancel, self-abandon—before you even raise your fist."
ARGUS connected to FuXi's judgment chain:
[Module loaded: Social elimination mechanism × Thought defense collapse × Subjugation without war]
[Reference structure: Guiguzi - Kaihe, Liutao - Wenjiao, Mencius - Rule by Principle, Shangshu - Endless Nets]
—
Jason gave examples:
"You're not killed by bullets—you're killed by anxiety."
"You're not erased by surveillance—you erase yourself."
"You're not driven out by violence—you never dared to step near a piece of land."
"You're not a person. You're a data point drawn by the system."
"Your only way to survive is 'not drawing attention.'"
"But do you know what? That way of living—they already counted on."
—
"You doing nothing lets them move forward unchallenged."
"And you think you're invisible? No—you're transparently dying."
—
The crowd began to stir. Some clenched their fists, some gasped in shock.
Lisa whispered:
"Are you pushing them toward death?"
Jason shook his head:
"I'm showing them—they've already been walking on death's path."
"Whether to change direction now… is the first time they've ever had a choice."
Section II (cont.): What Makes You Think You Can Survive?
Jason stood at the center of the stage, as if aiming directly at the throat of civilization.
"You think the survivors are the ones who don't cause trouble?"
He scanned the crowd, lips curling in scorn.
"No. The ones who survive are the ones who are useful. If you're useful, you're allowed to live."
"Most of you—aren't even worth using."
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
"You don't work, don't speak, don't organize, don't resist—so you feel safe?"
"You're safe, yes—but not because you're alive. Because you've been abandoned."
"You're no longer in the system's budget."
"You think you're a survivor. You're just scenery."
—
A young woman stood, angry:
"Easy for you to talk! Then tell us—what can we do? Don't join their system, don't get harvested—do you think we can form our own group?"
Jason stared at her, eyes like knives:
"You think building an organization, picking a name, making slogans—that's independence?"
"Do you know why most 'self-made groups' collapse?"
He turned sharply. The system projected:
[List of collapsed organizations × Reasons for disintegration]
[Keywords: unstable belief × incomplete structure × impure memes × internal infiltration × interest-driven × emotional fragmentation]
"They didn't fall apart because they were attacked. They blew themselves up."
—
He spoke firmly:
"You think unity alone ensures survival? But you haven't even figured out why you should unite."
He wrote four words in the air:
"Not empathy—but consensus."
"Empathy brings you closer. Only consensus binds you tight."
"Until you answer 'Why should we live together?'—you don't deserve fire."
—
The system synchronized:
[Joint alert: FuXi × ARGUS]
[Humanity's greatest failure in organization is not lack of resources or strength—but vision fragmentation]
[Ignorance is not dangerous × Knowledge fragmentation breeds internal decay]
[Recommendation: Unified ideological entrance × Guided meme-level questioning mechanism]
—
Someone shouted angrily from below:
"So according to you—we're trash? Failures?"
Jason looked down gently:
"You're not trash."
"You were born an 'abandoned pawn'—designed by those who manufacture opportunity."
"You weren't denied chance. You were stripped of it."
He turned abruptly, pointing upward:
"You think you're at the bottom because of your birth?"
"Wrong. You're at the bottom because someone built the bottom—and made sure it never moved."
"Run fast? You're just a lab rat in the maze."
"Smart? They make you spy on others. Hardworking? They work you to death. Literate? You read only what they let you."
—
At that moment, the crowd exploded.
Someone shouted:
"Then do we even have a way out?"
Jason took a deep breath, coldly replying:
"Yes. But not the kind the system gives."
"There's only one way—stop searching for safety. Start searching for direction."
"Stop relying on luck. Rely on understanding how to live."
"You don't run from fire. You become the spark."
—
FuXi projected a phrase:
[䷢ Earth Over Lake — Lin (Approach). Education through virtue, transformation through righteousness, light born from fire]
[System alert: Awareness index reached 82.1%]
[Meme carrier condition met × First cultural core launch threshold achieved]
Jason delivered his final words:
"You think you can wait?"
"You can't. Because—you've already been written off in their plan."
"From today on, you must rewrite one line of code yourself."
"You must begin to live—once—on your own."
Section III: What Will You Do—and Why?
The crowd quieted slowly.
The spiritual blow had shaken many into trembling, crying, silence—or scribbling notes, whispering to friends: We can't go on like this.
Jason didn't rush. He gazed at the sky for a while, then finally spoke:
"Alright. You've realized it—you don't just want to live. You want to live as yourselves."
"Now tell me—who are you going to be?"
Silence again. Not for lack of thoughts—but because for so long, they'd been taught—decisions aren't yours.
Teachers, commanders, centers, systems, algorithms—all decided. You were only informed.
Jason nodded:
"That's the first thing you need to relearn—to become someone who decides."
"Not 'allowed to act,' but 'choosing to act.'"
—
ARGUS simultaneously projected thinking structure prompts:
[Warning: Over 70% of current Gray Wing members lack a 'vision drive module']
[Known crisis: Momentum easily lost × Potential energy collapse × Belief drift]
[Recommended startup: 'Origin Inquiry × Soul-Refining Question Chain × Value Reformation' three-step guidance]
Jason continued:
"So—what should we do?"
He wrote three lines in the air:
Build cognitive alignment
Clarify collective responsibility
Shape structured action methods
Then he explained each:
"First, we don't rely on slogans—we rely on shared understanding."
"What's 'shared understanding'? It's knowing why you take a side when conflict comes."
"Not because I'm handsome, strong, feed you, or helped you once—but because you truly believe in this choice."
He smirked:
"Too many organizations start with 'liking each other'—and end with falling apart."
"If you want your group to last—you must unify around one answer: Why are we fighting for this?"
—
A boy stood, hesitant:
"If we really want to live… shouldn't we hide first and wait for the right time?"
Jason shook his head:
"You think 'waiting for timing' is safe?"
"No. If you don't shape the timing—you'll only ever play roles set by others."
He looked at everyone:
"Second—you must actively make the world respond to you."
"Not waiting to be discovered—but demanding to be heard."
"If you sit in the corner practicing inner strength—you're not awakened. You're escaping."
—
ARGUS synchronized updates:
[Meme echo layer activated × Awakening customized value statement options generated]
[Spontaneous questioners emerged × Mental layer rewriting structure established]
[Current state: Collective consciousness entering 'consensus critical zone']
—
Zhao Mingxuan asked gravely:
"Then tell us—why are we doing this?"
Jason's gaze sharpened.
"Not for victory."
"We do this not because we'll definitely win."
"We do it because if we don't—we lose the right to even lose."
Section III (continued): What Will You Do—and Why?
Jason returned to the center of the stage, voice suddenly soft—like a deeper, heavier force:
"You want to know what we're doing? We're creating one place in this world—untouched."
"Not a 'safe zone'—but an awakening zone."
"Not somewhere people flee to—but somewhere they stand up from."
—
His gaze turned fierce:
"Have you ever thought—what kind of world your children will open their eyes to?"
"You say you want to live for them—but you give them no water, no medicine, no dignity—not even clean soil."
His voice rumbled like thunder:
"You say you're living for the future—but everything you do only delays its rot—turns it into a tomb."
—
Whimpers rose from the crowd. An elderly woman hugged her infant tightly, sobbing softly.
ARGUS prompted:
[Psychological resonance surge × Family continuity sense activated]
[Meme reaction: If I don't act—then who will act for my child?]
[FuXi semantic stream note: Firebearer emergence × Life-and-death responsibility formation in progress]
—
Jason continued:
"You think preparing for the future means building more roofs, stockpiling food, training drills?"
"Wrong."
"The only preparation you can make for the future—is engraving one idea into everyone around you."
"That idea is: We refuse to live the way they want us to."
—
Someone cried hoarsely:
"But… if we fail?"
Jason shot back instantly:
"If we fail—we die as martyrs!"
"But if we do nothing—we die unworthy of remembrance."
—
ARGUS screen projected an ancient text:
[Great Learning]
"If renewal happens daily, let it happen every day."
Jason struck his chest hard:
"I'm not asking for success. I'm asking you not to keep failing."
"Don't let them define you as someone who does nothing."
"Don't let them reduce you in algorithms—as obedient, non-threatening, well-behaved, unremarkable—assigning you as disposable models."
—
He looked at them all one last time, voice like mountains:
"We're not doing this to win."
"We're doing this—so the next generation still has someone worthy of calling themselves 'human.'"
—
System prompt:
[Faith distribution core locked × Flame semantics synchronized × First-generation motto node activated]
[Keyword: Not to win—but to ensure the enemy cannot win completely]
[Keyword: Not for safety—but because you realize you can't keep living like this]
Jason stood silently, each word deliberate:
"You weren't born to win."
"You were born—to ignite the reason worth living for."
Section III (Final): What Will You Do—and Why?
Jason paused, then suddenly spoke:
"You know—there was an ancient civilization, on the brink of destruction."
The crowd fell silent.
He began to recount.
—
It was a place that created poetry, ritual, cities, metalwork, astronomy, philosophy.
Once known as the land of rites and culture, the peak of civilization, with millennia of history.
But in its final days—
All the powerful came.
Not to save—but to loot.
Books, bones, gold, porcelain, women, children, body parts—their trophies.
"For those three months, no one talked about rules."
"Everyone talked about profit."
"If you were strong—you looted. If you were cruel—you killed."
—
Someone asked shakily:
"Is this history—or made-up?"
Jason looked back, expressionless:
"You think it's legend? A prophecy?"
He swept the crowd with his eyes:
"Check the thinnest pages of your history textbook."
"You know the year. The country. Who opened the door. Who lit the fire."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
—
"And in that city," Jason continued, "people had two choices."
"First—the ones who fled. They took off their robes, put on invaders' insignias, and said: 'We surrender. We're clever. We're civilized.'"
"Second—the ones who stayed. They knew they couldn't win. They knew they might die. But—they refused to hand over the last books, the last bones, the last sparks of fire."
—
"Do you know what happened?"
"At the end of the disaster, those who surrendered were discarded, enslaved, wiped out quietly."
"But those seventy-three who stayed behind—destroyed the genealogies, libraries, relics beforehand. They left only three lines carved beneath the temple stone:"
ARGUS automatically projected the lines:
"We do not fight for victory. We fight to prevent total erasure."
"We do not seek to survive. We seek to leave truth behind."
"We are not martyrs. We are—the last fire."
—
Lisa whispered:
"Did they survive?"
Jason's eyes were steel:
"No one knows."
"But we know—they did not die in vain."
He paused, heavy:
"Because you can still ask this question today—means the fire is still burning."
—
ARGUS prompt:
[Meme chain embedded × Memory-based faith resonance established]
[Keyword: Not for victory × But to deserve to be remembered]
Jason looked at them all, voice low:
"They weren't saints. Not gods. Not superheroes."
"They were ordinary people—thrown into the cracks of their time."
"They did one thing—didn't wait for commands, didn't ask permission, didn't try to be heroes—just became gatekeepers of the flame."
"If you think this is only the past—you're wrong."
He paused heavily:
"Because today—you—are those seventy-three."