Chapter 105 - 43: The Logical Closed Loop of Rumors

Chapter 105: Chapter 43: The Logical Closed Loop of Rumors

The Jiangcheng Local News Official Account also published an article:

"Jiangcheng Flood Control Headquarters announcement: As the rain clouds weaken and move out, the rainfall in our city has significantly decreased. Following days of round-the-clock efforts by firefighters, armed police, and the militia, the floodwaters on the main roads of the main urban area are gradually receding..."

The rain was lightening up; the water was receding. Everything seemed to be taking a turn for the better.

He recalled his cousin’s words by the window last night: "As long as the rain stops and the water recedes, the rumors will naturally collapse on their own."

Yu Xian’s mood brightened a bit. Once life returned to normal and the natural disaster passed, everyone would be able to calm down. That absurd rumor about "physics experiments creating rainstorms" would dissipate with the receding floodwaters. With the internet and cell service restored, the "Midnight Bus" audio could finally be brought to light, unmasked, and thoroughly investigated.

After a hasty dinner, Yu Xian sat back down at the coffee table, immersing himself in his parents’ papers. A message from Yang Yiyi pulled him back to reality; the senior was going to sleep. Without him realizing it, the night had already grown late.

Yu Xian rubbed his sore eyes and closed his laptop and notebook. His cousin still hadn’t returned today. He briefly washed up, turned off the living room lights, and went back to lie down in the guest bedroom.

Before going to sleep, he checked his phone one last time, hoping to see some good news, like reports on post-disaster reconstruction or weather improvement announcements from the meteorological observatory. He even hoped to see a return of rational voices reflecting on the madness of the past two days. Just as his cousin had said, "Once the water recedes, the rumors will naturally collapse." Carrying this expectation, he tapped open the trending topics list and clicked on the hashtag "Northern Hemisphere Artificial Rainstorm."

However, the comment section that greeted him left him stunned. There was no reflection, no apologies, and certainly no return to rationality. The sentiment was a completely one-sided carnival—a terrifying, horrifying, despair-inducing carnival.

"Family! The rain is actually lightening up! Our efforts worked! We still have to rely on ourselves! Justice will prevail! Unity will prevail!"

"Facts speak louder than words! It must be because those labs got smashed and the machines were shut down that the rain stopped!"

"Confirmed! Irrefutable proof! The apologist dogs were saying it was a natural disaster before, but what else can they say now? As soon as the equipment was smashed, the sky cleared up!"

"It really was the doing of those evil scientists. If the machines hadn’t been smashed, who knows how long this rain would’ve lasted!"

"Thank you to the warriors who charged the front lines these past few days! You are the heroes who saved humanity and this city! The will of the people has triumphed over capital and evil mad scientists!"

Yu Xian stared fixedly at the screen. Absurd. It was utterly absurd.

What kind of logic was this? The rain stopped because the labs were smashed? This was simply a massive piece of dark humor, a suffocating logical paradox.

The rainfall had naturally weakened because the rain clouds had exhausted their energy, following the natural laws of atmospheric circulation. Combined with countless flood control workers like his cousin, along with armed police and soldiers pumping water day and night, the floodwaters had finally receded. But in the eyes of these fanatical rumor believers, it had become proof that their "actions were effective."

They forcibly linked two completely unrelated events—"smashing the labs" and "the rain stopping"—using a crude and simplistic cause-and-effect logic. It was like ancient human sacrifices for rain; if it coincidentally rained right after, everyone would be convinced that the sacrificed life had moved the heavens.

This was the ending his cousin hadn’t anticipated. The weakening rain should have been the moment the rumors went bankrupt. But now, it had instead become the most powerful, irrefutable "evidence" for this conspiracy. It formed a perfect logical loop, thoroughly pushing those who had still been somewhat skeptical into the abyss of public opinion.

Even more terrifying was that it imbued this mob violence with a false sense of "justice" and "sanctity." It made all the rioters who participated in the destruction feel like world-saving heroes—warriors who would shut down the "doomsday machine" even if it meant bearing infamy. In this state, no matter how much data or how many detailed papers scientists presented, they would never be able to convince this mob, which was already trapped in its logical loop and consumed by fanaticism.

In a world submerged by ignorance and frenzy, was there still a place for reason and science?

Yu Xian stared hard at the screen, feeling that something was off. He wondered why there still hadn’t been any control or management of public opinion up to now. Why were they allowing these attacks and unreasonable doubts against the physics community to run rampant? Where exactly did the problem lie?

He didn’t know how much damage the JCU School of Physics had suffered in this wave of assaults. It truly was an eventful and troubled time. Finding a radio station to listen to, Yu Xian barely managed to drift off to sleep.

Saturday morning.

The phone beside his pillow vibrated madly, acting as if it were malfunctioning. Yu Xian groggily grabbed it. Before he even unlocked it, the screen was already crowded with a dense block of message notifications. He wondered, "Is the school’s signal restored?"

Jolting awake, Yu Xian hurriedly swiped the screen open. The red notification badge in the top right corner of the green app icon was ticking up frantically. It turned out that the "Noah’s Ark Ticket Snatching Group," which had been dead silent for three days, was now being spammed with several messages per second—all sent by Shi Zuozhou.

"@All Brothers! Guess who’s back from the dead!

"Holy crap! I finally have internet! I almost suffocated to death these past few days!

"I’ve almost finished reading all the web novels I downloaded. If the internet hadn’t come back, I would’ve had to start memorizing vocabulary words!

"How are you guys? Did you get flooded? Did you starve to death?

"@COS! Old Yu, you’re at your relative’s place? You didn’t lose internet over there, right? I’m so damn jealous!

"@Yang Liu Yiyi! How’s things over at No.7 Dormitory, Brother Yi? Did you hoard enough food?

"@COS @Yang Liu Yiyi! Calling headquarters! Calling headquarters! Please respond if you copy! Are you alive?!"

This guy seemed to have gone mad from the isolation. His messages came one after another like a savage who had been starved for three days finally seeing a grand feast. Even through the screen, Yu Xian could feel his manic, survivor-like euphoria.

Yang Yiyi replied with a voice message: "I’m fine too. As long as everyone is safe."

Yu Xian also hurriedly reported that he was safe in the group and added a few reminders to stay cautious.

Backing out of the group chat, he saw that another conversation had a red dot. It was a pixel art cat avatar. It was Wen Xiao, the Uncertainty Robot.

"Yu Xian, can you receive my messages? It looks like my signal is restored here.

"Where have you been these past few days? I couldn’t get in touch with you at all. Nothing bad happened, right?

"Are you getting my messages?

"Why aren’t you saying anything?"

Interspersed among these were a few sticker emojis. The last two messages read:

"That audio... I have a major discovery!

"I can’t explain it clearly over the phone. Let’s meet up; it’s better to talk in person."

Seeing Wen Xiao’s messages, Yu Xian’s heart skipped a beat. A major discovery? Had Wen Xiao cracked the core waveform segment of the audio? He was just about to reply when two notifications popped up in the grade group chat:

"@All Members, Notice on the Lifting of Closed Campus Management and the Restoration of Normal Teaching Order at Jiangcheng University.

"According to the university’s notice, following the lifting of the rainstorm warning and the partial completion of campus floodwater cleanup, Jiangcheng University will officially resume in-person classes next Monday (November 19). Students are advised to use the weekend to adjust and return to class on time.

"Additionally, due to the current complex state of public security, leaving campus privately over the weekend is strictly prohibited. Please pay attention to your personal safety."

There were also a few messages forwarded by various course representatives regarding makeup class schedules, as well as some official news push notifications:

"Jiangcheng announces the resumption of work and production: Starting today, all municipal government organs, enterprises, and public institutions will resume normal work operations, and public transportation will fully resume service."

Jiangcheng had fully resumed work and classes. For the students and faculty who had been trapped on an isolated island for a week, this was undoubtedly great news.

But for those rioters blocking the school gates, laboratories, and research institutes, it also signaled something else. The workweek was approaching, and life had to go on. No matter how fanatical they were, or how much they felt like world-saving heroes, in the face of the impending Monday, they could only reply "Received" in their work group chats and clock in on time.

This farce seemed to finally be drawing to a close.