Chapter 55

Chapter 55

Not only were the viewers concerned about this issue, but the Xia State government was equally attentive.

After all, this time, the number of Anomalous Zones descending upon Xia State was relatively small. But if the reason remained unclear and the situation reversed next time, the outcome could be catastrophic.

Although the Anomalous Zone that descended upon Nanxi City this time did not cause significant harm, the senior leadership of Xia State, having reviewed the entire course of events, understood that this was a special case—unlikely to be repeated.

Had it not been for the Dawn Bureau’s branch office coincidentally falling within the range of the Anomalous Zone’s descent, and the subsequent gathering of people via broadcast, coupled with Ying Yuanxing learning of Nanxi City’s plight through 1666 and sacrificing his own resources to send garlic—

And thanks to the Dawn Bureau’s organizational power, the garlic was swiftly and evenly distributed, allowing the convoy to escape successfully without any members facing real danger.

It could be said that achieving even one of these conditions during an Anomalous Zone’s descent would be difficult, let alone both simultaneously.

Anyone who witnessed the convoy’s escape after the Anomalous Zone’s descent would consider themselves fortunate. But could they rely on such luck next time?

Thus, analyzing the reason for the higher number of Anomalous Zones abroad became of critical importance.

Upon analysis, one statistic stood out prominently—the average number of Weird coins exchanged by civilians in various countries through the JoyBuy app.

In Xia State, the average daily exchange was fewer than ten Weird coins, especially after excluding children who couldn’t exchange them. Even though birth rates had plummeted after the anomalies appeared, Xia State’s large population meant a significant number of children remained, bringing the average below ten coins per day.

Abroad, however, the situation was different. Initially, Weird coins were exchanged for money to improve living standards. But since everyone could exchange them, while the exchange rate remained stable, rising prices meant people had to exchange more to sustain their standard of living.

As a result, the exchange volume abroad surged. While Xia State averaged fewer than ten coins per day, some relatively better-off countries abroad exchanged at least thirty coins daily, with more exploitative systems pushing the number to a staggering hundred coins per day.

"How can they exchange so many?" Zhao Zhangyan was incredulous upon reviewing the collected data. Having exchanged Weird coins himself, he knew how taxing on one's emotions the process was.

For an average person, exchanging a dozen or so coins per day would nearly exhaust their negative emotions. If they were willing to exchange positive emotions as well, the absolute ceiling would be thirty coins.

A hundred coins—how was that even possible?

"Extreme emotions produce more Weird coins. Repeated oscillations between extreme joy and extreme negativity could accumulate to a hundred coins," Mr. Zhou said gravely. Such emotional extremes, if repeated, would severely damage a person’s mental health, requiring extended rehabilitation.

Yet, according to their findings, those exchanging Weird coins had no time to recuperate—their emotions remained in constant turmoil, eventually destroying them mentally.

Though not Xia people, Zhao Zhangyan couldn’t help but sigh at the suffering of other humans.

"So the research institute believes their excessive Weird coin exchanges led to more Anomalous Zones descending," Zhao Zhangyan said.

Mr. Zhou nodded, then shook his head. "Not just that. The need to exchange Weird coins generated copious amounts of negative emotions. While we can’t confirm the exact figures for positive emotions, we estimate they’re much lower, as cultivating positive affect is far harder than negativity."

"Though most negative emotions were exchanged, lingering traces persisted, attracting the Weird. Our research also found that prolonged exposure to negativity creates a magnetic field in the human body—one that attracts not just the Weird, but Anomalous Zones themselves. This is likely why so many descended abroad this time."

Some ordinary people abroad, pushed to desperation, abandoned hope and lost themselves in hedonism. The power elite treated them as disposable—until the consequences struck.

"Then, was Nanxi City’s Anomalous Zone descent due to some... social issues the state overlooked?" Zhao Zhangyan instinctively wondered if there were hidden societal problems in the area.

"No. Nanxi City’s Weird coin exchange data was no different from elsewhere. It was pure chance," Mr. Zhou explained, shaking his head.

Zhao Zhangyan felt a moment of embarrassment but mostly relief.

Once the hypothesis was confirmed, the state publicly released the research institute’s findings. Silence would have risked greater panic, given the intense online discussions.

Now aware that prolonged negativity attracted Anomalous Zones, the state prioritized monitoring the psychological well-being of the Xia people.

The last thing they needed was baseless rumors inviting an Anomalous Zone.

While such emotional issues might not summon a major Anomalous Zone, even a small one posed serious dangers.

Upon the announcement, netizens were first stunned by the foreign Weird coin exchange figures, then by the research institute’s conclusions.

"I knew foreign countries were inhumane, but this level is shocking."

"A hundred coins a day? I just checked—my current emotions could barely get me twenty. Are they emotion mills? How do they squeeze out so much?"

"It’s not just a hundred, right? The wealthy abroad surely don’t exchange coins—it’s the lower classes. The real number must be even higher."

"They brought it upon themselves. News from abroad says only those on the fringes of Anomalous Zones escaped. The rest, including the rich and powerful, remain trapped. It’s been days—they’re probably not getting out."

"Isn’t their government doing anything?"

"Doing what? Not every country is like Xia, genuinely responsible for its people."

"What about the wealthy? Aren’t they acting?"

"Those without connections abroad have likely had their assets seized. Those with connections depend on whether their allies are willing to help—spending huge sums with no guarantee of success. It’s entirely a matter of chance."

"I thought only the poor suffered abroad. Turns out the rich aren’t spared either."

"Big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp. Over there, everyone’s potential prey."

"Do they know about this abroad? What will they do?"

"They’ll probably restrict Weird coin exchanges. Otherwise, Anomalous Zones are too dangerous."

Discussions spread across Xia's online forums, analyzing international developments with newfound calm. The more they learned, the more assured they felt—Xia wouldn’t suffer the same fate, drastically reducing the risk of Anomalous Zones descending for the same reason.

With global internet connectivity, foreign audiences also saw Xia’s government announcement.

Some dismissed it as Xia exploiting coincidence to slander foreign nations.

Others, despite their animosity, trusted the report—knowing Xia wouldn’t mislead its people without evidence, lest it undermine state credibility.

A few considered returning to Xia. Though transportation was challenging, with enough money, it was still feasible.

But many more wondered if distancing themselves from the lower classes was the solution. If Anomalous Zones were drawn to the masses’ negativity, keeping them far away would ensure safety. Previously overlooked, this strategy might now make foreign regions safer than Xia.

After all, Xia’s large population still exchanged Weird coins, inviting Anomalous Zones. But newly established safe zones, free of such exchanges, could be far more secure.

Implementing this required more than money—it demanded political influence.

Just as Xia’s netizens debated possible foreign responses, news from abroad arrived.

"On the path of inhumanity, foreign nations keep surpassing one another."

"I...I don't understand. How is there still no resistance?"

"Banning those who exchange over fifty Weird coins weekly from certain zones? Seriously? Rather than addressing the root cause, they just ban the people?"

"But they still need servants. What if those servants exchange coins? Routine screenings, then expulsion upon discovery, followed by hiring new ones?"

"Honestly, I doubt they can find replacements. I knew a foreign middle-classer—still alive, decent income, but exchanging coins because inflation made life unbearable otherwise."

"Those who don’t need to exchange coins wouldn’t work as servants anyway."

"You’re overestimating their humanity. Reports indicate, if you want to work in these areas, and you've previously exchanged Weird coins, you're administered emotional suppressants, which basically eliminate emotional fluctuations, making coin exchanges impossible."

"Hold on—emotional suppressants? When did foreign research make such advances?"

“It might be a semi-finished product. Seems like there was no prior news about it, and now it’s suddenly out. Anyway, it’s just for ordinary people to use—those rich elites wouldn’t touch it. If something goes wrong, they can just throw some hush money.”

“To put it bluntly, I really hope the Weird creatures go after these people instead of ordinary folks.”

“Ugh, with them doing things this way, can they really isolate the problem completely? I feel like they’ll just create new issues.”

“Whatever, never mind. Don’t dwell on foreign matters. Another batch of garlic has ripened on the farm. Better go grab some fast. With garlic in hand, even if a Weird Domain descends, there’s still hope to escape.”

“Thanks for the reminder. I almost forgot. If I missed it, I’d be devastated.”

Zhao Zhangyan sighed as he read the online discussions.

Actually, the government’s official statements weren’t just to reassure the people—it was also a warning to foreign nations not to play with fire. They wanted them to ease up on the exploitation, as we're all in this together on Earth.

Though foreign Weird Domains wouldn’t spread to Xia State, who knows how multiple Weird Domains could affect the planet?

Problem is, those countries truly don’t give a damn about people. If you pose a risk, they’ll isolate you—without giving up their luxuries.

Seeing this, Xia State could only post a few more warnings online. Beyond that, they could only strengthen border patrols to prevent illegal border crossings.

...

Taking out the pickled garlic and replacing it with freshly harvested garlic in jars, Ying Yuanxing packed the pickled garlic and had 1666 deliver it.

The pickled garlic was mainly supplied to the Dawn Bureau, enabling rescue teams to see through disguises within Weird Domains after consuming it.

“What about Nanxi City now—”

Before Ying Yuanxing could finish, 1666 shook his head. “Can’t deliver there.”

Ying Yuanxing sighed. It seemed the government still hadn’t reclaimed Nanxi City’s Weird Domain. If they had, deliveries would be possible.

“How’s the situation?” Ying Yuanxing had to ask.

“Human casualties are low. Your pickled garlic played a big role. Rescue teams can easily spot Weird creatures disguised as humans and avoid getting lost,” 1666 replied. He’d heard this from humans—perhaps the Dawn Bureau, noticing Ying Yuanxing’s concern, had asked recipients to relay the message if they saw him.

Previously, they hadn’t dared to let 1666 deliver messages, fearing unreliability or the risk of sensitive information. But after the Nanxi City incident, Xia State’s trust in him had grown somewhat. While sensitive info was still off-limits, routine reports were now permissible.

Hearing this, Ying Yuanxing relaxed. If the garlic did its job, that was what mattered.

After sending 1666 off, Ying Yuanxing sat down to go over the farm’s production numbers, frowning slightly.

He had pushed the farm to its limits: an average of 10,000 garlic bulbs per day, 3,000 carrots, and scattered other crops barely worth mentioning.

The carrots were for Xuan Ying, to boost his strength—off-limits.

Ying Yuanxing knew his farm had just flown under the radar of powerful Weird creatures. Once discovered, Xuan Ying would be its only line of defense. His strength had to grow, not wane.

Garlic, too, was just as crucial.

With these two crops occupying most of the land, little remained. Storage sheds for jars and brewing barrels took space, wells and irrigation required plots, and pasture grass for Chen Yuan’s sales also claimed area.

Looking over the map, Ying Yuanxing sighed. The conflict was between more stuff than space. Even with fertilizer, yields could only improve marginally before topping out.

He wanted to plant more, but there was no room.

Heading out to the farm’s border, where the pasture lacked an air barrier but edges still held, Ying Yuanxing reached out—nothing.

“It should be able to expand a bit more,” he murmured. Before unlocking the general store, seeds were scarce. He’d scraped together enough from weeds to buy land. Now, with the farm fully utilized and plenty of Weird Coins saved up, why wouldn’t these areas respond?

He wasn't hiding his frustration. When Yuan Qing came to expand his house, she had to ask.

Initially reluctant, Ying Yuanxing reconsidered. “The farm feels too small. I want to expand it.”

Yuan Qing surveyed the area and nodded. For a farm, it wasn’t tiny, but as a Weird Domain, it was modest.

She’d assumed Ying Yuanxing preferred compact zones, but now saw his desire to grow.

“Your Weird Domain is indeed small. What kind of additions were you thinking?” she asked curiously.

“I... this... Weird Domain?” Ying Yuanxing froze. Wait, this is a farm? How had it become a Weird Domain?

The thought slipped away before he could grasp it.

“Ms. Yuan, what kind of Weird Domains do you think I could add?” he asked, refocusing. Clueless himself, he trusted her insight.

Yuan Qing hesitated. Expanding Weird Domains was deeply personal for Weird creatures. But given their rapport, she relented.

“Your farm is all flatland, just a few ponds, no rivers. Snatching a river zone would be nice. Even better—an ocean! The sea is vast, and Taoxi Village lacks one. If you claimed it, you could see the ocean right here. Oh, a desert would work too, though I hear a clan of Weird creatures holds those. Might be tough...”

Starting cautiously, she grew excited, eyes gleaming with greed.

For every Weird creature, becoming a Domain Lord was the ultimate dream. Yuan Qing was no exception—just too weak to act.

Her words ignited the stream chat.

“Wait, Weird Domains can be stolen? The Weird world’s competition is fierce!”

“Then what are the zones we reclaim?”

“Ousting Weird Domains from our world isn’t the same. But if Ying Yuanxing can locate them, could he take them? Didn’t the Dawn Bureau kill a Domain Lord before?”

“Now that you mention it, wasn’t there a village-like Weird Domain with farmland? If the streamer grabbed that, he’d hit the jackpot.”

“You’re missing the point. If he has a Weird Domain, is he a Weird creature too? Why else would she say that?”

“Must be a misunderstanding. He’s definitely human.”

“If he’s human, how could he seize other Weird Domains?”

“Before even securing land, you’re already arguing over possibilities. Can’t we just see how this plays out?”

Watching the stream, Zhao Zhangyan felt a mix of excitement and confusion.

Was the farm really a Weird Domain? And why did Yuan Qing think Ying Yuanxing controlled it as its Domain Lord?

But the key detail was this: all humans chosen by the Salvation Game and sent to the Weird world underwent physical changes upon arrival. This allowed prolonged survival there—unless directly attacked by Weird creatures, they wouldn’t deteriorate like regular people.

The catch was limited time back on Earth. So even if Ying Yuanxing were a Weird creature, as long as he thought like a human, it didn’t matter.

Yuan Qing’s words got Ying Yuanxing fired up. If her theory held, his farm could incorporate any terrain.

Nearby, Xuan Ying inhaled the carrots—less eating, more absorbing. Actually chewing 3,000 would take ages. While his true form remained, Xiao Hei Cat’s duplicate streaked out.

Xuan Ying knew Ying Yuanxing’s longing for expansion. If he needed Weird Domains, Xuan Ying would fetch them.

His first target? His own Weird Domain.

Xiao Hei Cat raced into the village woods, locating a wisp of smoke—his own duplicate. Pouncing, he compressed it into a dense black sphere and carried it back.

When he returned, Yuan Qing had already left, while Ying Yuanxing was looking at a map.

"Xiao Hei?" Ying Yuanxing watched as Xiao Hei dashed back, clutching a dark orb in its mouth. He thought it was just a toy Xiao Hei had found outside, though the ball looked somewhat familiar.

"You should eat this," Xuan Ying spoke up from the side.

"?" Ying Yuanxing was completely baffled, unable to grasp the situation. The black ball didn’t seem edible at all—why was he being told to eat it?

"This is my Doppelgänger that controls the forest. It’s also a Domain Lord. To seize an Eerie Domain, you either kill the Domain Lord or consume their essence. Yuan Xing, you probably can’t kill me," Xuan Ying said, looking at Ying Yuanxing. Even though it was just a Doppelgänger, this Doppelgänger was quite difficult to kill. With Ying Yuanxing’s abilities, at best, he could grab it with both hands and shove it in his pack to seal it away.

"So, eating me is more convenient," Xuan Ying added.

"Your Doppelgänger?" Ying Yuanxing stared at the black ball, finally realizing why it looked familiar. If Xuan Ying’s true form—that shadowy blob—were shrunk down, it would look exactly like this.

"No need. Let’s find another Eerie Domain. Hurry and send your Doppelgänger back," Ying Yuanxing waved his hands repeatedly. Seeing Xiao Hei still holding the Doppelgänger’s black ball in its mouth, he quickly took it out and wiped off the drool.

"Xuan Ying, get back already. Even if I want to occupy an Eerie Domain, I wouldn’t start with yours," Ying Yuanxing poked the black ball and tried to persuade him.

Besides, devouring Xuan Ying—even if it was just his Doppelgänger—was something Ying Yuanxing simply couldn’t bring himself to do.

"But if you don’t eat me, then your first experience will be consuming another ghost," Xuan Ying grumbled reluctantly. He wanted to claim all of Yuan Xing's milestones. Sure, the first gift was from Yuan Xiu, but the rest should belong to him—even being eaten.

"Didn’t you say killing is an option? Can’t I just kill another ghost instead?" Ying Yuanxing’s mouth twisted. He wasn’t sure if all ghosts in the Ghost World were like this or if Xuan Ying was just particularly unique, so he forcefully changed the subject.

"Well, otherwise..." Xuan Ying started to say, then glanced at his Doppelgänger. Even if he wanted Ying Yuanxing to kill it, it would take too much effort, so he trailed off.