togophonebook Chapter 407 If time is relative, then...
Chapter 407 If time is relative, then...
Xia Ning turned the hourglass over, and the second round of copying began.
Someone took a deep breath, picked up the awl again, gritted their teeth, and stabbed their fingertip once more.
Some people switched fingers, while others started asking those around them for advice on how to hold a pen properly...
But Lin Feng and his two companions still did not move.
"Why haven't they written yet?" a young girl whispered to her companion, her gaze frequently drifting towards Lin Feng's direction.
"The second round has already started... Could they be thinking of giving up?"
Her companion—a tall, thin boy with glasses—shaked his head and lowered his voice:
"Impossible. Look at the light in their eyes, there's not a trace of wanting to give up, it's more like... they're waiting for something."
"What are we waiting for? It'll be dark by then!"
The boy with glasses didn't answer, but his gaze swept back and forth between Lin Feng, Evelyn, and Wasim, as if he were deep in thought.
Lin Feng's gaze slowly swept across the scripture copying hall before returning to the blank sheet of paper in front of him.
If the method is wrong, all efforts will be in vain.
This was a conclusion he had reached by the end of the first ten minutes.
He copied 268 characters in ten minutes, averaging nearly 27 characters per minute.
For someone who writes with a brush, this speed is not slow at all.
If you also need to maintain neatness and focus, then it becomes even more difficult.
What's even more difficult is that the scribe also needs to constantly squeeze blood from his fingertips and dip them in blood—this action itself interrupts the continuity of writing.
Even in the most ideal situation—
Even someone with a foundation in calligraphy, strong mental fortitude, and sufficient blood supply to their fingers, would need at least fifteen minutes to neatly copy scriptures onto Xuan paper using their own blood, provided they have practiced and prepared thoroughly.
Ten minutes? Absolutely impossible!
But ghost stories can't be a dead end; there must be a way out.
It was simply perfectly hidden.
Lin Feng shifted his gaze from the blank paper and began to slowly wander around the scripture copying hall.
His gaze first fell on the ropes hanging overhead.
The hemp rope, about the thickness of a thumb, is fixed at one end to the crossbeam and hangs in mid-air at the other end, about 20 centimeters away from the low table.
Their presence is so jarring—why would a room used for copying scriptures have so many ropes hanging from it?
My first instinct was: instruments of torture.
If the mission is not completed, these ropes may be used as tools to punish or even execute the chosen ones.
But upon closer examination, this conjecture is untenable.
After all, if the guides really wanted to execute the losers, there were more direct and efficient ways.
Why go to all that trouble to set up so many ropes in the room?
So, do these ropes have other uses?
A phrase flashed through Lin Feng's mind: knotted rope record-keeping.
Before the invention of writing, humans did indeed use knotted ropes to record information and count.
Knots of different sizes, positions, and colors represent different meanings.
This ancient method of information recording has been preserved in some spiritual traditions as a special means of aiding memory.
But what is there to record here?
Copying scriptures is a process of recording, so why not use knotted ropes to record events?
Or rather... do you have to climb up the rope?
Lin Feng raised his head and carefully examined the top of the rope—
The crossbeam is a regular wooden crossbeam, and above it is a regular wooden ceiling.
After climbing up, there was no exit, no hiding space, just a bare expanse of wood.
There's no point in climbing up.
But since the rope exists, it must have its purpose.
"Time's up."
Xia Ning's voice rang out.
All the plain paper in the copying hall simultaneously emitted a grayish-white light—the same light as in the first round.
Then, all the writing, all the effort, all the blood and sweat, were once again "digested" by the paper, cleanly and without leaving a trace.
The scripture copying hall was initially deathly silent.
Then, like a flood bursting its banks, a torrent of complaints erupted.
This time, it was even more intense and desperate than the first round.
"No--!"
A girl with a ponytail suddenly stood up. She stared wide-eyed at the blank sheet of paper in front of her, her lips trembling violently and her eyes brimming with tears.
"I...I wrote it so carefully! I didn't make a single mistake! Why is this happening?!"
Another girl next to her was making suppressed sobs.
"It hurts...my fingers hurt so much...and they're so cold...I feel like my fingers aren't even mine anymore..."
"It's simply impossible to finish..." the girl with the ponytail's voice trembled. "There's no way I could copy 268 words in ten minutes!"
She raised her head and shouted towards something higher and farther away:
"Motherland! I'm sorry! It's not that I didn't try... it's just that I really couldn't do it!"
Her voice echoed in the scripture copying hall, striking the walls and stirring up a mournful sound.
Some people's eyes reddened, and some lowered their heads to wipe away tears with their sleeves.
A man with a buzz cut turned towards Lin Feng and his companions, his tone tinged with doubt:
"Two rounds have passed, why haven't you written a single word?"
Wasim turned his head, glanced at the man, and spoke slowly:
"The rules don't say you have to write it every round, so instead of making pointless attempts, it's better to conserve blood first."
An old man stroked his beard and shook his head with a hint of reproach:
"Opportunities come from trying. If you keep looking back and forth, hesitant and timid, and won't even lift a pen, what will you discover even if you find a way?!"
As soon as the old man finished speaking, Xia Ning smiled faintly and raised her hand to turn the hourglass.
"The third round of copying begins."
Everyone gritted their teeth, pricked their fingertips again, squeezed out beads of blood, and began a new round of copying.
Some of the chosen ones followed the example of Lin Feng and his companions, sitting still in place.
Rather than wasting time, blood, and hope, it's better to just lie down and give up.
Lin Feng's gaze swept over those who had given up, then turned to Xia Ning without making a sound.
Xia Ning remained seated at the small pearwood table, her gaze lingering on the aphorisms on the wall.
A moment later, she slowly turned her eyes and met Lin Feng's gaze, her eyebrows slightly raised.
Lin Feng's heart skipped a beat.
This is undoubtedly a hint.
He naturally and slowly withdrew his gaze, as if he were pondering something.
Then, he "casually" looked up at the three aphorisms on the wall.
The first sentence: [Time has no measure; the weary feel its slowness, the joyful find it too fast, and the tranquil grasp its order.]
Time has no ruler – it cannot be measured by a fixed scale.
Those in distress perceive time as passing slowly.
Those who are immersed in happiness find time passing too quickly.
Those who are calm grasp the order of time.
Lin Feng frowned slightly.
This statement, on the surface, is about how people have different subjective perceptions of time.
The same amount of time can be perceived drastically differently by different people in different states of mind.
But this seems to be more than just about "feelings".
"The calm grasps the order" – meaning the ability to grasp the "order" of time.
Does time have an "order"? And how should we grasp it?
Lin Feng's gaze shifted to the second sentence: "When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also falls into you."
Nietzsche's original quote is, "When you gaze into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."
But here it says "falling toward you"—not "gazing at," but "falling."
This change is very interesting.
"Gazing" is a mutual eye contact, an exchange of glances, a static confrontation.
But "falling" is dynamic; it is a displacement in space.
The abyss is falling toward you—meaning it is no longer a static, gazed-on object, but an active, moving entity. You look at it, and it crashes down on you.
What does this have to do with time?
Lin Feng couldn't figure it out for the moment, so he continued reading the third sentence: "Reversal is the movement of the Tao; weakness is the application of the Tao."
This quote comes from the Tao Te Ching.
"Reversal is the movement of the Tao" - the movement of the Tao is cyclical, things will inevitably reverse when they reach their extreme, and prosperity will decline when they reach their peak.
When things develop to an extreme, they will turn in the opposite direction.
"The Way of the Weak" - The way the Way works is gentle, non-competitive, and overcomes the strong with the weak.
The core meaning of this statement is that change is achieved through "reversal" and "weakness".
To achieve a goal, you don't necessarily have to work directly in that direction. Sometimes, going in the opposite direction can actually help you achieve your goal.
Lin Feng's eyes suddenly lit up.
The three aphorisms appear independent and unrelated on the surface, but when viewed together, a common theme emerges—
They're all about "relativity".
The first sentence: The relative relationship between the subjective perception of time and its objective length.
The second sentence: The relative positions between the gazer and the gazed upon.
The third sentence: The relative transformation between positive and negative, strong and weak.
All three sentences are saying the same thing:
Absolute standards do not exist.
Time, space, power, direction—all things that seem absolute are actually relative, and can be transformed, reversed, and redefined.
If we apply this logic to the task of copying scriptures—
Ten minutes, in the standard sense.
It could also be an infinitely extended ten minutes.
Time itself is not absolute.
In physics, time is affected by gravity and velocity.
The stronger the gravity, the slower time passes; the faster the speed, the slower time passes.
If an object enters the vicinity of a black hole, time will dilate drastically due to the black hole's immense gravity.
For an observer outside a black hole, time is almost frozen near the black hole.
For people living near a black hole, time is passing rapidly in the outside world.
Of course, there is no black hole in the scripture copying hall.
But is there anything here that can change the speed at which time passes?
Lin Feng's gaze shifted back to the ropes hanging overhead.
Rope...time...relative...reverse...
These words spun, collided, and recombine rapidly in Lin Feng's mind, like countless puzzle pieces trying to piece together a complete picture.
A vague idea began to take shape, but it was not clear or complete enough.
"Third round of copying complete."
Xia Ning's voice interrupted his thoughts.