The mill’s wooden door has been open for seven days.
At first, it was a chilling silence.
Sunlight streamed unhindered into the stone house piled high with wheat flour, and dust motes danced in the beams of light like countless prying eyes.
For the first two days, people quickened their pace as they passed by, as if the wide-open door were a black hole that would devour order.
The children were sternly warned by their parents not to go near that area.
However, nothing was stolen.
A bag of wheat, a shovel, even a rusty nail that had fallen to the ground, were all unharmed.
On the morning of the third day, the change quietly began.
Someone found a brand-new broom leaning against the doorframe in front of the mill, as if it had been born to be there.
On the fourth day, there was a small bag of dried mushrooms.
On the fifth day, there was a pair of sturdy straw sandals.
On the seventh day, not only was nothing missing from the mill's entrance, but it also resembled a silent altar, piled high with anonymous acts of kindness from all directions.
On this very day, just as everyone was beginning to get used to this strange tranquility, Lin Yi dropped a real bombshell.
He stood before everyone, his voice not loud, yet it clearly penetrated into everyone's ears, shattering the nascent sense of order.
"Starting today, all registration procedures are suspended."
The crowd erupted in chaos.
"What?" A student leader responsible for recording work points turned pale, almost breaking the charcoal pencil in his hand. "Mr. Lin Yi, what... what does this mean? The 'Heroes' Ledger,' the 'Nameless List'... everything is suspended?"
“Yes, all of them.” Lin Yi’s eyes were as calm as a deep pool. “We will no longer record what anyone did, nor measure how much anyone contributed. Whether it’s building a wall or cultivating land, whether it’s saving lives or making donations.”
"Wouldn't that...wouldn't everything be in chaos?!" a burly man couldn't help but roar. "I work sixteen hours a day, am I supposed to be treated the same as those lazybones who hide in their rooms and sleep all day? Who would be willing to put in their hard work!"
Before he finished speaking, he was immediately met with a chorus of agreement.
Anxiety, anger, and confusion spread like a virus among the population.
They had painstakingly established an effective reward and punishment system in the apocalypse, a system that allowed everyone to see their own value, but Lin Yi was going to tear it down with his own hands.
Lin Yi didn't argue, but just quietly looked at them, his gaze sweeping over every excited face.
Only when the boiling clamor gradually subsided did he speak again, his voice carrying a cold, penetrating force: "If trust can be shattered with a single tap, then it has never truly existed."
One sentence silenced all the noise.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, Chu Yao felt a chill run down her spine, causing her to tremble uncontrollably in the breeze.
In that instant, she clearly "perceived" two completely different things.
One type is "institutional dependence," which resides in people's hearts like interlocking gears. It is cold and fragile; once a part is removed, the entire system is on the verge of collapse.
The other kind emanated from Lin Yi, something even more powerful yet more ethereal—he called it "emotional trust."
He is using the most extreme method to completely separate the two.
This is a high-stakes gamble, with the future of the entire settlement at stake.
On the third day after the new regulations were announced, that strange unicycle appeared.
It stopped right in front of the mill, as if it had popped out of the ground.
The truck was loaded with a heavy bag of fresh wheat, the grains plump and radiating the scent of sunshine.
A pair of brand-new straw sandals with fine stitches were hanging on the handlebars.
No one saw who pushed it there; it was like a silent gift, quietly waiting.
Several young students immediately became alert and wanted to trace the source of the tire tracks.
This is their instinct, a habit of "tracing back to the source and registering merits" under the old system.
"Stop." Lin Yi's voice came from not far away; he had been standing there without anyone noticing.
"Mr. Lin Yi, let's go see who sent it, at least... at least we need to know who it was!" the student in the lead said anxiously.
Lin Yi shook his head, his gaze falling on the wheelbarrow with a strange respect: "No need. Let it come by itself, let it go by itself."
The students looked at each other, but ultimately obeyed the order.
That day, everyone walked around the wheelbarrow as if it were some sacred object.
That night, it was late and quiet.
The person on night watch was surprised to find that the wheelbarrow had slowly moved to the corner of the wall without anyone pushing it.
The sacks of wheat on the cart were taken down by someone and neatly stacked in the grain pile at the mill.
Then, the empty car just sat there quietly overnight.
The next morning, as the sun rose, it disappeared without a trace.
At the same moment, in the underground chamber, Ivan saw a complex rune slowly closing on a crystal screen that was shimmering with a faint light.
He felt seven barely audible tremors beneath his feet, tremors that were like the pulse of the earth, steady and powerful.
He closed his eyes and whispered in an almost inaudible voice: "The eighty-fourth node...closed."
Immediately afterwards, Lin Yi announced an even more perplexing decision—he would go into seclusion for three days, not handling any affairs or meeting with anyone.
Everyone assumed he was going to engage in some kind of profound spiritual practice or to contemplate a more significant decision.
However, this is not the case.
Lin Yi simply locked himself in his room.
In the center of the room, there was a brazier.
He took out stacks of heavy ledgers and paper books from a dusty wooden box.
That was the cornerstone of all order in the settlement over the past year.
The first book is "The Heroes' Ledger".
The cover is wrapped in cowhide and records the names and deeds of the most meritorious people in every battle and every rescue.
Each name is followed by a long list of material rewards and privilege upgrades.
The second book is "The Nameless Book".
The yellowed paper contained a list of items donated by all the anonymous donors. Although it was unknown who they were, the "record" itself was a form of acknowledgment.
There were also stacks of scraps of paper collected from the mill, with notes on who delivered a few pounds of grain and who borrowed a hoe.
Lin Yi remained expressionless as he tossed the books into the fire pit, page by page, book by book.
Flames rose, greedily licking the words that recorded merits and contributions.
The ink distorts and disappears under high temperature, eventually turning into ashes.
The firelight illuminated Lin Yi's calm and expressionless face, as if he were performing a sacred farewell ceremony.
What he wanted to burn was not just these records, but also the obsession that lingered in everyone's heart—the obsession that "my efforts must be seen and remembered."
He wanted to let this obsession go with the wind.
Outside, Chu Yao sensed that familiar emotional fluctuation once again.
On the first day of Lin Yi's seclusion, a brief, disorienting anxiety permeated the entire settlement.
It was like a group of soldiers who were used to following orders, suddenly losing their commander.
But soon, this anxiety did not turn into chaos; instead, it strangely settled down and transformed into a deeper, more profound silence.
People still work at sunrise and rest at sunset, but they communicate less with each other, while exchanging glances more often.
A tacit understanding that needs no words is growing wildly in this silent soil.
On the third night, an unexpected event occurred.
"Fire! The mill is on fire!"
A sharp scream pierced the night sky.
From the direction of the mill, a plume of black smoke mixed with flames shot into the sky.
The fire wasn't actually that big; it was just a few bundles of dry grass piled in the corner that got ignited.
However, a strange thing happened—everyone who rushed to the scene instinctively stopped outside the fire, and no one rushed in immediately.
The air seemed to freeze.
Everyone is engaged in an internal struggle.
Should we rush in to put out the fire?
No one will know who you are, no one will remember your merits, you will not receive any reward, and you may even get hurt.
The old rules are obsolete, and there is no new set of rules.
The very foundation that enabled people to perform "heroic acts" had been personally removed by Lin Yi.
One breath, two breaths, three breaths...
Time stretched out endlessly at that moment.
Ten breaths later.
"ah--!"
A figure suddenly burst out from the crowd; it was a boy who looked only fifteen or sixteen years old.
He covered his mouth and nose with his sleeve and plunged into the thick smoke without hesitation.
His actions were like a lit fuse.
Immediately afterwards, an old farmer who was usually quiet and reserved grabbed a bucket and rushed in as well.
Then there was a female worker in a weaving workshop, a night watchman who had just changed shifts, a blacksmith...
One, two, three...
Seventeen people rushed into the fire without any orders or promises.
Some of them carried water, some rushed to transport grain, and some moved tools.
Throughout the entire process, no one rushed forward, no one backed down, and no one shouted slogans.
Like a swarm of worker ants working in perfect harmony, they unleash astonishing power in silence.
The fire was quickly extinguished.
Seventeen people emerged from the mill, covered in dust and dirt. They silently arranged the salvaged supplies neatly and then began cleaning up the mess.
From beginning to end, no one mentioned "merit" or asked each other's names.
They simply did what they thought they should do, and then quietly blended into the crowd, as if nothing had happened.
Inside the house, Lin Yi, who was sitting cross-legged, heard all the noises outside. From the start of the fire to its extinguishing, he remained completely still.
The last page of paper in the brazier had also turned to ashes.
The next morning, Lin Yi pushed open the door.
The sun was warm, and a faint smell of burning lingered in the air.
He walked to the newly renovated mill and saw a new piece of paper pasted on the wooden door, the edges of which were still wet.
There are only three lines of text above, written in a bold and powerful style:
The fire is out.
The grain is available.
People are safe and sound.
The signature area was blank.
A barely perceptible smile finally appeared on Lin Yi's lips.
He gently took the paper down, went back to his room, and threw it into the already cold stove.
As new flames rose from the hearth, Ivan's voice, through some mysterious link, whispered a final word in his mind: "The Well of Memory...begins to forget."
Almost at the same moment, Chu Yao's clear, cold voice rang out in the morning light, as if reporting to some unseen entity: "Unit 84, complete."
Lin Yi walked out of the house and came to the wheat field on the edge of the settlement.
The wheat in the field has already sprouted ears, and green waves ripple in the breeze.
He walked to the center of the field, dug up a patch of soft, fresh soil, and buried the last and most important roster in his arms—his own memo containing all the plans and key personnel.
He stood up, patted the dirt off his hands, looked up at the clear blue sky, and suddenly chuckled softly.
“Next question…” he muttered to himself, his voice so soft it seemed it might dissipate in the wind at any moment, “Shouldn’t we ask, ‘When everyone becomes reliable, who will bear the responsibility for inevitable mistakes?’”
Before the words were even finished, a sudden change occurred!
On the distant mountain ridge, a crystallized ear of wheat rose against the wind, defying all logic!
It is completely translucent, like a crystal sculpture, and emits an ominous cold light.
However, it only rose halfway into the air before it was suddenly covered with spiderweb-like cracks amidst a silent tremor.
"Snap—"
A sound even crisper and more piercing than shattering glass suddenly exploded in Lin Yi's mind.
The crystalline wheat shadow instantly disintegrated into billions of sparkling powders, falling like a beautiful, deadly snowfall.
Lin Yi's smile froze instantly, his pupils contracted sharply, and his gaze became as calm as ice.
"Unit 85... came sooner than expected."
As soon as he finished speaking, the whole world seemed to be muted.
The wind stopped, the birdsong ceased, and even the undulations of the wheat fields subsided completely.
The vast wheat field was as still as a frozen oil painting, each ear of wheat maintaining its final posture, motionless.
A thick, heavy pressure filled the air, as if some enormous creature was slowly opening its eyes in the void beyond our sight.
Everything is holding its breath in anticipation.
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