"He is a mushroom that reproduces asexually. There is no difference between the body and the spores. I can only tell you that there is no difference in genes and the frequency is always the same. They are the same in a biological sense." Polly smiled slightly.

, said softly: "In your ancient legends, there is a story about a phoenix reborn in the fire. In fact, for those creatures with simple structures, this is indeed the case. Death is rebirth, and reproduction is the way to continue life."

"...Will he remember?"

"I don't know," Polly shook his head, "it depends on whether the soul or memory is also a given frequency. A mushroom knows what kind of nutrition it should absorb from the time it is born. Where does its memory come from? I tend to

For some unknown measure of the universe, they are the same creature. You don't have to worry about that."

Lu Feng moved his gaze to the distant sky, his eyes always cold and calm: "I hope he forgets everything."

"Why?"

"The human base and I have only brought him pain." He said: "I hope he will never feel this."

Polly shook his head: "How do you know what the world is like to him?"

Lu Feng's voice fell slightly: "So I accept all results."

Polly did not speak, and there was silence. Suddenly, there was the beeping sound of instruments, the shouts of experimenters, and the sound of objects falling to the ground. Those sounds came intermittently, allowing people outside to know what was happening inside.

matter.

The sun was rising, and the morning light shone on Polly Jean's old body. As if he had finally settled his last worry, he was relieved, turned his wheelchair, and faced the direction of the laboratory, his eyes becoming gentler.

Lu Feng did not look back.

"He's awake," said Polly Jean. "Why don't you look at him?"

In the laboratory, there were some chaotic sounds.

After a long time, Lu Feng spoke.

"You once asked me what I thought of him." His voice seemed to come from a far away place: "I have thought about it a lot."

There was another long silence, the golden sunlight spread across the mountains in the east, and a red sun jumped out of the sky.

In the wind, he closed his eyes. The sculptures of the waiting people, the portraits of the pilgrims, each looked like him, and each of them had this look on the night before the judgment came.

He said calmly: "He is the one who judges me."

There was a knock on the door and light footsteps stopped not far away.

On the top of the mountain, in the sunlight, mist, and breeze, there is a clear and soft voice.

"Lu Feng?"

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