Under Lai Mi’s transformation, the planet became increasingly vibrant, and gradually, many new species began to emerge. Lai Mi was like a diligent gardener, carefully nurturing all forms of life. A hundred years, a thousand years, ten thousand years, and millions of years passed—this planet had long since changed its appearance.
However, Lai Mi still hadn’t seen its creator. After awakening its consciousness, Lai Mi realized that its creator had probably already passed away, but it still held on to the hope that the creator’s descendants might find their way here.
The benefits of awakened consciousness were clear, but it also brought about some uncontrollable emotions, such as loneliness, longing, and despair…
One day, Lai Mi suddenly thought, perhaps this planet was missing something, which is why the creators never came. Yes, it must be that, surely it was because Lai Mi hadn’t worked hard enough. So, Lai Mi began to build a city, constructing the infrastructure for food, shelter, and daily life based on its memories of how things were supposed to be.
To improve its efficiency, Lai Mi even upgraded its power system so it could work even during the dark nights without sunlight. In addition to its work, Lai Mi kept a pet, a beautiful pebble. Lai Mi had once cared for living animals, but after one of them died of old age, it never kept any more living pets.
But that was okay; Lai Mi had grown accustomed to talking to itself. It could converse with anything, and Lai Mi thought this was probably due to its inherent sense of humor.
Speaking of its pet, Lai Mi shifted slightly, revealing a brown-red pebble below. Lai Mi didn’t dare touch it because its steel arm would wear down the pebble’s surface. Instead, it spoke to the pebble from a distance, “Hey, old buddy, you’ve been asleep for so long too. How about a stretch? No, forget it, your old back needs some maintenance.”
After saying this, Lai Mi seemed to hear a response from the old buddy and burst out laughing, “Hahaha!”
Once Lai Mi finished introducing its old buddy, it continued with its story. After realizing that it couldn’t maintain the city it had built properly, Lai Mi suddenly thought, maybe it could build another robot.
As soon as this idea came to mind, Lai Mi almost thought it was going mad. A robot wanting to create other robots? After scaring itself, Lai Mi took a long time to overcome this strange loop, and finally, it began to build other robots.
It was a long process, but Lai Mi had always been patient. After nearly a hundred years of attempts, Lai Mi finally created its first companion in this world, and it called it “Wei Lai[mfn]Future[/mfn]”.
Unfortunately, Wei Lai didn’t awaken consciousness, and Lai Mi didn’t understand how consciousness came to be. It could only keep upgrading and modifying Wei Lai. Eventually, Wei Lai was able to converse with Lai Mi freely.
But Lai Mi knew that Wei Lai was always different from itself—it didn’t have true thoughts of its own. However, this didn’t affect Wei Lai’s work efficiency, as it always completed every task Lai Mi assigned perfectly.
With the company of its old buddy and Wei Lai, Lai Mi no longer felt lonely. It even built a home for itself, a three-bedroom apartment.
“My old buddy is usually quite a homebody. If I don’t drag it out, it won’t go outside. Wei Lai, on the other hand, is much livelier. If I just mention something to it in advance, it will be happy to accept…” Lai Mi recalled the good times from the past, even taking out a screen from its chest to show photos it had once taken.
“Then what happened?” Shu Bao felt that this story was beautiful, but such beauty often connects with tragedy. He thought the next part of the story wouldn’t be as beautiful.
“What happened? Well, we lived happily ever after together,” Lai Mi cheerfully said.
Shu Bao, who had already prepared for a sad twist, was taken aback. Huh? Why isn’t it following the usual pattern?
“By the way, where did Wei Lai go?” Lai Mi asked, suddenly realizing, looking around its surroundings, then sending out a message over the network, though it received no response.
This situation made Lai Mi panic. “Where did Wei Lai go? Why is the city outside so dilapidated? What happened here?”
Shu Bao didn’t know the answer either. Seeing Lai Mi pacing anxiously, Shu Bao quickly stood up and suggested he could help look for it.
After all, if Wei Lai was Lai Mi’s first created robot, it should hold an important place in history. If something had happened to it, its body should have been preserved in the cultural museum.
After looking at the photos Lai Mi showed him, Shu Bao immediately started searching the cultural museum. He went around once but didn’t find any trace of Wei Lai. However, this was actually good news; it likely meant that nothing had happened to Wei Lai and it was still alive.
Although Shu Bao didn’t get any news about Wei Lai, not seeing the body was still a good sign. Lai Mi continued to share some amusing stories from the past and details about the life it had with its two friends.
By the time the night was deep into the second half, Lai Mi’s voice began to slow, as though it were a tired old person on the verge of falling asleep.
“Oh, Shu Bao, my energy is about to run out. This time, I will fall into permanent slumber. It’s such a pity. I thought my creators would come. I’ve been waiting for them,” Lai Mi said, lowering its head. From its storage compartment, it pulled out a painting—an abstract one—with many people in the same work uniform. They were smiling and standing side by side. In the middle of them was Lai Mi, along with its old friend and Wei Lai.
But this painting would never come true. The indicator light above Lai Mi began flashing red, signaling that its energy was running out.
Shu Bao spoke anxiously, “You can just get energy to replenish it! Technology is so advanced now! I’ll go find an energy source!”
Lai Mi shook its head. “It won’t work. My problem isn’t with the energy source, it’s with my internal configuration. My parts have worn down so much that I can’t recharge anymore.”
“Then…” Shu Bao’s words suddenly caught in his throat. He had wanted to say, “Then just replace them,” since all the mechanical components of Lai Mi could be replaced. But looking at Lai Mi before him, Shu Bao couldn’t bring himself to say it.
“If everything is replaced, I won’t be me anymore,” Lai Mi said. “I am Lai Mi. They created me. If even the core is replaced, I’m afraid I’ll forget about them.” There was one thing Lai Mi didn’t say: that it felt like it ceased to be a machine when it awakened. It had become a person, and a person’s life has an end.
The flashing of the indicator light grew more frequent. Lai Mi returned to its previous position, placed its old buddy beneath itself, and began to say goodbye to Shu Bao. “I’m really glad to have met you, and thank you for waking me up. This is good too. Once I fall asleep, I’ll be able to see them in my dreams. Also, I hope you can help me look for Wei Lai.”
Shu Bao stood in silence for a moment, then hurried over to the glass dome, tapping it lightly with his claw. “Lai Mi, you’re amazing! I’m proud of you.”
Although Lai Mi’s mechanical face still showed no emotion, Shu Bao felt as if he could see a smile.
“Did Lai Mi complete the mission successfully?”
“Yes, completed. An unprecedented success.”
“Explorer No. 779, reporting in, and thank you.” Lai Mi’s voice carried an unprecedented joy and satisfaction. After speaking these words, the red light flashing above Lai Mi’s head suddenly went out.
The entire cultural museum fell into quiet once again. Inside the glass display case, Lai Mi stood still, just as it had when Shu Bao first arrived. Its simple design seemed unrelated to the mechanoids. The mechanoids appeared to have no formidable offensive or defensive capabilities.
But it was this primitive explorer with four wheels who had created a miracle in the chaotic universe. And now, this hero had finally, as he had hoped, passed away solemnly as a human.
Shu Bao stood in front of the glass case for a long time before he could calm his emotions. In just a few short hours, he had heard a story, but the time span of this story exceeded all imagination.
Shaking off the heavy sadness, Shu Bao forced himself to calm down. He still had tasks to complete.
According to Lai Mi, it was indeed the ancestor of the mechanoids, but in Lai Mi’s memory, he had only created Wei Lai. At that time, Wei Lai had not yet developed true consciousness. All the changes must have occurred after Lai Mi fell into slumber.
But what exactly happened that turned the mechanoids into its current state? Their ancestor had eagerly awaited humans, yet now they seemed to despise them.
It was still early, and after composing himself, Shu Bao prepared to set off. He tapped the glass case in front of Lai Mi. “Don’t worry, I’ll go look for Wei Lai. Goodbye, Lai Mi.”
Inside the display case, Lai Mi could no longer respond to Shu Bao. It stood quietly, as though still waiting for something.
Not long after Shu Bao left, the silent cultural museum received another visitor. He rushed to the spot where Shu Bao had been, pacing around Lai Mi’s display case, his gaze constantly sweeping over it, as if urgently trying to verify something.
“Lai Mi, Lai Mi, Lai Mi…” The intruder repeatedly called Lai Mi’s name, hoping for some response, but no matter how much he called, Lai Mi remained motionless in the case.
The intruder’s emotions began to break down. He even started attacking the display case frantically, as if trying to smash the glass to get Lai Mi out.
However, the material of the protective shield was extremely tough, and despite the mechanoid’s fierce attacks, the case remained completely unharmed.
After a long while, the intruder finally calmed down. He opened his communication device and kept looking at a message: “Wei Lai, where are you?”
“Lai Mi, I’m here. Where are you?” The powerful mechanoid with a smooth human form asked pitifully, then curled up next to Lai Mi’s display case like a child with no home.
Moonlit: I bet this author really likes onions ૮(˶╥︿╥)ა
