‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 008 Sin City

In the afternoon classroom, sitting by the sunny window, yet the brick wall beneath the windowsill seemed to let the draft through, gusts of cold wind seemingly piercing to the very heart. At the front, the teacher scolded students who weren't studying attentively, the atmosphere oppressive. Returning home, wanting just a moment alone, but then guests came knocking, inviting to a gathering. At the party hotel, a white-haired old man—possibly a relative of the hotel owner—nitpicked and accused him of misconduct, of wasting food, and so on.

Suddenly, a nameless rage flared. "It's not like I wanted to come, you invited me," snapped back a few more retorts and left.
After a while, a short-haired woman who looked like a head waitress, wearing a red-and-white striped T-shirt and black pencil skirt, came with a group to confront him. "What did you just do? Look at you, you've made Father-in-law so angry he can barely breathe."
Sigh, thinking of his advanced age, and himself a junior of the younger generation, he might as well go bow and apologize to calm things down. So he headed toward the back kitchen to search.
"Have you seen where Father-in-law went?"
"Check the basement."

Navigating past the chefs' dishes, through the basement, and out through the garage door to the outside of the building, there was still no sign of him. He saw two staff members on lookout duty high up and asked them; they pointed toward the main road.
Walking along the roadside, utterly deserted, only the quiet green trees lining the way.
Suddenly, a bus parked at the roadside lurched to life and charged at this direction diagonally. To avoid being dragged under, hands desperately pushed against the bus's front windshield. The friction between palms and the glass actually sent body flying sideways through the air…

Li Haojun finished packing his gear, sat down calmly, reflecting on the chaotic dreams of the early morning, no reason for them clear.
"Ready?" Qin Wenjing asked.
"Ready," Li Haojun said, hoisting his backpack and following her out the door.
Qin Wenjing walked ahead, wearing narrow-legged navy blue dress pants, red high heels, and a black PU asymmetrical lapel cropped jacket with a peplum waist. On her head a red baseball cap with a single ponytail trailing out the back, red lipstick, bug-eyed sunglasses, teardrop ruby earrings dangling from both ears, a small black silk scarf tied around her neck.

Following Qin Wenjing to the roadside, Li Haojun found John already waiting there. He had brought a fixed-wing flying car—clearly the old-timer was nostalgic. They exchanged greetings, and the three set off.
After driving along a stretch of open, straight highway, John lifted off. Li Haojun and Qin Wenjing sat in the back, the space somewhat cramped, so they simply wore their backpacks on their chests.
John glanced in the rearview mirror and asked, "Is Ethan doing well?"
"Very well, thank you," Li Haojun replied. Since Qin Wenjing had explained that there was nothing between her and John, he naturally felt less antagonistic toward him.
Then John asked Qin Wenjing, "Is your little friend better?"
Qin Wenjing just smiled without speaking. Li Haojun didn't feel comfortable answering either, so he changed the subject.
"John, is the place we're going safe? Sorry, I don't remember anything, I can only ask you. Is there anything we should watch out for?"
"Anything to watch out for? I noticed you only brought one parachute—what about her?"
"Haha, I figure with our combined weight, one parachute should be enough."
"And what about me? What do I do?" John complained jokingly.
"Well, you can just get us all safely to the destination," Qin Wenjing chimed in from the side.

After the banter subsided, John calmed down and said to Li Haojun, "Don't be nervous. Even though we're going to the Free Zone, it's not bandits everywhere. It just has its own unique ecosystem. Just don't meddle in others' affairs, don't get caught up in unnecessary disputes, and it'll be fine."
Accompanied by the hum of the engine, the aircraft gradually climbed above the clouds. The deep blue sky and dazzling white clouds formed a stark contrast of colors. More solar radiation poured into the cabin, making the already feeble engine cooling system overburdened.
Both in the back seat took off their outerwear.
The direct sunlight made Qin Wenjing's skin appear even fairer, while the cabin's greenhouse effect flushed her cheeks with a rosy glow, adding a touch more allure.
Li Haojun admired her for a good while. Qin Wenjing didn't speak either, just tilted her face up and beamed at Li Haojun. Suddenly Li Haojun felt that showering the bachelor dog John, piloting up front, with such public displays of affection wasn't very nice. He winked at Qin Wenjing; they exchanged a knowing smile and each turned to look at the scenery outside the window, though their hands below remained clasped. Li Haojun sensed John probably noticed the earlier atmosphere in the back, but he showed no reaction whatsoever, just focused on piloting.

As they neared their destination, they descended in altitude, piercing through the clouds until the bay came into view. After the great earthquake on the West Coast of the United States, the original San Francisco area had lost most of its land, leaving only scattered coastal high points and a waterborne city built on existing building foundations.
With the loss of land and population, what that city lost wasn't just its former prosperity. It was the Silicon-based era's implementation of personal accountability for actions and consequences, which eradicated the parasitic class that survived on transfer payments without creating value, yet behaviorally destroyed the very foundation of wealth creation. The pendulum of the extreme left seemed to have swung to the extreme right. There was no welfare here, because there was no longer an economy of scale. People could only learn self-reliance, seemingly returning to the state of the early European pioneers landing on the North American East Coast. But the difference was, technological advancement had basically excluded ordinary people—there were simply no entry tickets, and it was nearly impossible any longer to harbor the kind of expectations for great prospects that existed centuries ago.

John's flying car landed in San Mateo County. The original hills there still remained. Beyond the flying car landing area, there was only rudimentary commercial activity. The original Silicon Valley industry had evolved to a stage detached from the mass market, looking more like monopolistic corporate power. And the once-thriving financial derivatives market had also been regulated and restricted after that global financial market collapse.
Reaching the meeting point required taking San Francisco public transit—now just a single-cantilever light rail running over the expanse of water.
Qin Wenjing carried only a shoulder bag. Li Haojun set down the parachute, hoisted his backpack containing the application agents. John, on the other hand, was rather trendy. Although always dressed in cowboy attire, this time he was fully equipped: twin silver antique-finish revolvers crossed at his hips, a cartridge belt at his waist, brass casings with metallic silver bullets. This cowboy had no horse, but from the car trunk, he released a metal robotic dog, its entire body mirror-polished stainless steel without paint, carrying a storage pack on its back, from one side of which protruded the wooden stock of a long gun.

Before long, the light rail train arrived. Only three cars, driverless, its body color still silver base with orange decorative stripes top and bottom, but now rust-stained from seawater corrosion.
The three boarded. Only a smattering of passengers, all elderly, probably local residents. The train departed from the hilltop, and below was all vast ocean. The former residential areas were now submerged underwater. Some original inhabitants refused to leave, either living on boats moored to anchor points, or adding height to existing structures so that some lightweight houses could still be supported above the sea's surface.
As the train passed, one could glimpse their lives. Reaching the light rail station was only possible by boat, but at each stop there was rarely anyone getting on or off. Mostly elderly people lived here, unwilling to leave or lacking the means to. But there were also a few young children—who knew where their future would lead.

The train had a stop at Nurse Hill. After that, the area below the light rail gradually looked more bustling, with more young people coming and going and simple commercial gathering places visible. The train also gained more passengers—some young people with avant-garde styling, some middle-aged professionals in sharp suits. Further ahead was the area of the original San Francisco Union Square. Many of those once-skyscraping buildings still stood, and with them at the core, a new waterborne prosperous city had gradually formed, though its scale could no longer compare to the past. Yet the former splendor and refined life seemed not to have departed from that place and its people.
John, Qin Wenjing, and Li Haojun got off at the Plaza station.
"You two walk ahead, I'll take the rear," John said.
"Alright," Qin Wenjing agreed, leading the way. Li Haojun followed closely behind, turning back to smile and nod at John. He clearly understood John was ensuring their safety.

The lightweight urban architecture no longer permitted vehicle traffic; pedestrian walkways extended along the original buildings. This area was no longer the formerly upscale finance and commerce hub, but primarily entertainment now. The brain-computer interface technology led by Realm of Mindscape drove virtual entertainment technology that catered to the needs of those with certain special proclivities. In that virtual world, they could experience any sensation—content unattainable, unreachable, even legally forbidden in the real world.
Of course, alongside the cerebral stimulation and gratification brought by new technology, the primal desires that had existed for millennia coexisted as well, now also joined by mechanical geishas. However, the traditional red-light district hues had evolved into space-tech silver.
By contrast, the ordinary lives of roadside commoners continued as ever—street performers, instrumentalists. And beggars too.

Soon they arrived at the Realm of Mindscape technology company, now a landmark building. Its formidable strength allowed for a small plaza set before its corporate tower. Around the plaza were Ricky's Fashion, commercial equipment repair and supplies, McDonald's, Domino's, Starbucks Realm Plaza branch, and other simple dining and service establishments, vaguely evoking memories of that once-booming era.
What captured Li Haojun's attention was an old lady selling flowers at the plaza's edge. Not bouquets, but potted flowers with soil: kalanchoe, tulips, cutting-propagated roses. The old lady was very advanced in years, gaunt of face, sitting at the plaza's edge leaning against a small handcart. It seemed she had used the cart to haul these flowers from elsewhere. There were also beggars on this street; given her age, she could easily have been one, but she wasn't.

Ascending the steps into the Realm of Mindscape lobby, they informed the front desk and found that the NeoMemo technicians had already arrived. They had also come with just three people, but the other two, in suits and ties, were burly in build—apparently bodyguards. Everyone introduced themselves. NeoMemo's technical service representative was Steven Park, thin-eyed with a small black mustache, cold and severe of face, dressed very casually: a grey hooded neck guard top and denim knee-length shorts with sneakers.
The group then followed the Realm of Mindscape management to the central control room, handed over the agents, and Steven began adjusting the agent formulation ratio, observing the brainwave response data of long-term immersion users. From the monitoring data, it was visible that some users interfaced and responded well with the equipment, others only so-so. Judging by the users' emotional data, some were delighted, some sorrowful, some excited, some placid. What made Li Haojun sigh was that amidst the same spectrum of joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, some people simply couldn't accept who they were in the real world.

Having completed the designated work, the personnel from both sides departed separately. Passing through the lobby, they still saw customers occasionally coming to the front desk to inquire. Most were seeking short-term services, temporary entertainment. Some came with doctor's prescriptions for psychological treatment. There were also those who, at their own expense, used the immersion mode to have university courses written directly into their brains. Did this count as cheating? Technological progress gave humanity more options, and these options inevitably became double-edged swords, depending on individual choices.

Leaving the Realm of Mindscape company, it was already past noon. The three went directly to Domino's, ordered pizza for lunch. Through the glass window, Li Haojun saw the flower-selling old lady still there, ignored by all. This plaza was already a place with relatively high foot traffic, but everyone was in a hurry. Saying nothing to the other two, Li Haojun left alone, came before the flower seller, crouched down, and inquired about the prices. All were 2 dollars, 3 dollars, 5 dollars—really, he didn't know what this little money could even be used for. Li Haojun took all the roses—he liked roses—and chose two tulip bulbs. The old lady patiently packed them in a shopping bag scavenged from elsewhere and handed them to him.
Carrying the newly bought flowers back to the pizza shop, Qin Wenjing said nothing, just watched Li Haojun with a smile. John tipped his cowboy hat and grinned,
"Good lad."
Li Haojun smiled bashfully, set down the flowers, then ordered another box of pizza and two drinks, carrying them as he walked toward the old lady.
Through the glass window, John and Qin Wenjing ate while watching Li Haojun. He shared the food with the old lady, pointing to different flowers and asking about them as they ate. The afternoon sunlight was faintly amber, refracted through the glass of several high-rises, spilling across the small plaza, suffusing the song of the flowers.