When Wu Paulo arrived at Japan’s Antarctic research station, his straight-line distance from Charlie wade was roughly four hundred kilometres.
Like the Nordic station, Japan’s was surrounded by the same desolate landscape, with no neighbours nearby.
The oddity lay in Antarctica’s sheer vastness. When the limited number of nations built their limited research stations, everyone left space for their own and others’ future development. Building too close to another country would not only constrain one’s own growth, but could also compromise the secrecy of certain tasks.
After all, Antarctic research was not purely about studying the local humanities, environment, or flora and fauna.
Like space exploration, Antarctic research concerned not only science, but also a nation’s strategic layout, and even the development of certain strategic technologies.
For instance, both America and China had once tested Mars rovers in Antarctica, because Mars is a planet with an average temperature of just over minus sixty degrees, and Antarctica is the closest earthly environment. Moreover, Antarctica’s ice fields and hills bear significant resemblance to Martian terrain in some ways.
Precisely because each nation’s Antarctic research involved various cutting-edge technologies, everyone rarely chose to cluster together.
Japan’s station was much larger than the Nordic one, yet even so, as Wu Paulo gazed at the low buildings under the polar night’s starlight, he could not hide his disdain.
Especially when he saw the characters “Showa” written in Chinese outside the station, his face filled with contempt and extreme displeasure.
Thus, a palm-sized miniature sword suddenly appeared from his wrist. He infused spiritual energy into it, activating the array within. The sword, less than a chi long, instantly seemed enchanted, growing in a flash to a full one metre thirty or forty in length, a gleaming treasure sword.
The sword had not truly grown; the spiritual energy merely activated the array, which illusory manifested such a blade. A blade formed of spiritual energy could cut iron as if it were mud and split mountains and stones.
Wu Paulo held the long sword and lightly swept it across the face of the stone stele inscribed with “Showa Station”. The entire inscribed side was instantly shaved smooth. Then, with another flourish, he carved three bold, free-spirited cursive characters: “Wu Han Palace”.
Wu Paulo was not well-read and could think of no grand, imposing name. He only felt that if the legendary Guanghan Palace truly existed on the moon, it would probably look like this barren place, freezing cold and sunless.
Yet here there was no Chang’e; instead, it would serve as his temporary residence. So he crudely changed one character, turning it into Wu Han Palace.
In his mind, “Wu” represented the Wu family, “Han” perfectly described this godforsaken spot, and “Palace” proclaimed his extraordinary status.
After renaming it, the station looked much more pleasing.
Thus, he pondered inwardly. Now that Wu Han Palace existed, it was his daoist field, so he naturally needed a daoist title.
After much thought, since he used Wu Han Palace as the name, he decided on Guanghan Zhenren as his title. It sounded majestic, ethereal, and full of profound meaning.
He summoned Kikuchi Kohei and ordered, “Kikuchi, from now on, have everyone, including yourself, kneel on one knee and respectfully address me as Guanghan Zhenren whenever they see me. Understood?”
The effect of psychological suggestion eliminated all ambiguity and maximised obedience.
Kikuchi Kohei immediately knelt on one knee without a word and said respectfully, “This subordinate pays respects to Guanghan Zhenren!”
“Ah.” Wu Paulo felt refreshed and invigorated.
Though he was the greatly respected Grand Elder in the Poqing Society, when had he ever experienced true reverence? In his youth, he began seclusion, sitting cross-legged for over a hundred years. His consciousness rarely left his sea of knowledge, utterly immersed in his own world. He was far lonelier than Sun Wukong pressed under Five Elements Mountain for five hundred years. At least Sun Wukong had herdsmen bringing fruit; during his seclusion, he had no one to speak to.
After emerging, though Poqing Society members showed respect, he could sense it stemmed not from loyalty to him, but from deference to Wu Feiyan.
It made him feel like a famous actor in an old opera troupe. Everyone bowed and scraped, but they were the troupe owner’s people. They held no loyalty to him, and he had no real authority in the troupe.
Now it was different. Including Kikuchi Kohei, these dozens of Japanese research team members were utterly devoted lackeys. In this “Wu Han Palace”, he was unequivocally the boss, no longer living in Wu Feiyan’s shadow.
Thus, he immediately said to the kneeling Kikuchi Kohei, “Go, summon everyone. Have them all come to pay homage to me!”
Kikuchi Kohei said respectfully and loudly, “This subordinate obeys!”
He then went to gather everyone.
Though the others did not understand Chinese, Wu Paulo’s psychological suggestions had been conveyed through Kikuchi in Japanese, so they obeyed him absolutely.
Soon, everyone assembled on the freezing plaza.
