Chapter Two: Scarlet Lotus

Fate had not been unkind to Shang Lu; on his 24th birthday, it led him into the Giant’s Sanctuary. Compared to his peers, this birthday was extraordinarily cool—like the difference between a slap on the cheek and a massive jackpot. The world had handed Shang Lu that jackpot. The first time he stepped into the cavernous hangar of the 151 Support Base, he looked up and thought: Damn, Old Ji should have told me this thing was this huge.

How huge was it?

Shang Lu secretly wondered if it had a certain organ, it would be bigger than his entire body.

The work platform stood nearly forty meters above the ground, equivalent to over ten stories, yet Shang Lu, standing there, could only reach the giant’s chin. Old Ji said its nickname was “Red Lotus” (even taxi drivers called it that), a name that sounded graceful, but Shang Lu thought calling it the Eight-Armed Nezha would be more fitting, for it truly had four arms. This deep crimson giant stretched its limbs like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man, leaning against the cavern wall, its head bowed in deep slumber beneath the majestic dome of light.

Suddenly, Shang Lu felt like poking it, wondering if it would awaken like a divine miracle.

“Don’t touch it,” someone noticed his risky intent. “There’s high voltage.”

Shang Lu pulled back his hand and turned to see Old Ji.

“Everyone who comes here for the first time wants to touch it,” the old man said, gripping the iron railing of the work corridor, leaning slightly forward as if staring up into the giant’s head. “But it’s live right now. If you’re unlucky and touch a live wire, twelve thousand volts of high voltage electricity will pass through your body down to your feet—”

He stomped his foot on the metal floor of the platform.

“Then we’ll have to find you a spot in the botanical garden’s martyr’s cemetery.”

Old Ji was the chief engineer of the support base and the one responsible for receiving Shang Lu. His name had a heroic ring to it: Ji Yingxiong. As one of the designers of Red Lotus, he was senior, knowledgeable, and held a high status. Aside from the base commander and political commissar, he was practically the boss. Junior officers had to address him as “chief.”

“What do you think of it?”

“Big,” Shang Lu answered. “Can it really move?”

“Barely, but it moves slowly,” Old Ji said. “You haven’t seen its legs yet, right? They’re in Hangar No. 2 and can fold up like the outriggers on a self-propelled artillery piece.”

Leaning on the railing and looking down, Shang Lu saw the ultimate humanoid weapon suspended in the cavern. Only the upper body was present—a robust, rugged metal frame, linkages, skeleton, and deep red armor plates combined like a giant stripped of skin, exposing its innards, battered and incomplete. People in the base cavern bustled about in gray coveralls and gas masks. In the scorching heat of Chongqing’s August and September, they dared to bundle up thanks to the cavern’s constant 15-degree Celsius environment.

People moved amid flickering lights and loudspeaker announcements. The only two idlers seemed to be Old Ji and Shang Lu, strolling together, eyes wandering.

“Keep moving forward. It’s your first day, so I’ll show you around again,” Old Ji said. “This will all be your scope of work later. Don’t worry, get familiar with it gradually. It’s not complicated... By the way, how did your folks back home take you coming to 151?”

“To defend all humanity, it’s every man’s duty,” Shang Lu answered confidently.

“That’s good,” Old Ji sighed. “You know, we get plenty of young people every year, but few are specialized. Most from the Institute of Automation head to Chengdu or the rear bases. The moment they hear ‘151,’ they run faster than rabbits.”

Old Ji said Shang Lu was the first graduate from the Chinese Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Automation to voluntarily be assigned to this base in three years.

He was quite puzzled.

Graduates from the Institute of Automation were highly sought after—rear bases, central institutes, government agencies, major enterprises, all competing for them.

Yet here was one heading to the front line, which delighted Old Ji immensely.

At 58, having lived half a lifetime, seeing things from top to bottom and bottom to top, Old Ji still couldn’t figure out Shang Lu’s motive for coming to 151. In the end, he could only conclude that the young man had a high sense of ideological consciousness.

—In truth, Shang Lu’s ideological awareness wasn’t that high. He always believed humanity was doomed, but he didn’t struggle much over choosing 151.

Two months earlier, upon graduating with a master’s degree, he faced the assignment list and without hesitation dragged the rations and supplies quotas from top to bottom, filling in the 151 Nanshan Support Base—where the per capita allocation was highest.

His advisor was shocked and called him in overnight: “Are you sick of life? Do you know where 151 is?”

Shang Lu said he knew—it was in Chongqing, Nanan District.

“Do you know what Nanan District is? It’s the front line! People die there!”

Shang Lu said he knew. “If I’m going to die anyway, might as well eat well first.”

From one perspective, he hadn’t come to save humanity but because he thought humanity had no future. Might as well give up and do it in style, with dazzling fireworks.

Two months later, Shang Lu was sent as a technical officer from the Institute of Automation to support and be stationed at the 151 Nanshan Support Base.

His advisor called Old Ji and said, “Old Ji, I’m handing you my student. If he loses a hair, I’ll hold you accountable.”

Old Ji and the advisor were old acquaintances, having researched giant mech pilot neural interfaces and control systems together at the Institute of Automation. Joyfully, Old Ji slapped his thigh: “Finally, a suitable successor. Once here, no running away.”

“Attention, control system testing complete, repeat, control system testing complete.”

A grand female voice suddenly rang from above. Old Ji and Shang Lu looked up from the platform as a bright yellow alarm light spun and flashed.

“Chief Engineer!” someone shouted from the overhead corridor, poking their head out. “Self-check finished!”

Old Ji turned and said, “Hold tight.”

Before Shang Lu could react, the corridor beneath them trembled slightly, then began to slowly descend. Shang Lu quickly grabbed the railing.

He realized the work platforms were movable, resembling scaffolding surrounding the giant’s body, rising and lowering in sequence, rearranging.

Old Ji hurriedly jogged with Shang Lu along the catwalk, winding around to the giant robot’s nape. Others on the work platforms gathered as well, clutching folders and tablets, crowding around Old Ji to report their tasks in a flurry of voices.

“Chief Engineer, the hydraulic cylinder pressure is holding at 86%. Should we adjust it further?”

“The Riemann probe and gravitation gyro need fine-tuning, about 0.04 microseconds off.”

“Chief! The 302 core output pressure is unstable!”

“Damn it, one at a time! One at a time!”

Old Ji was quickly overwhelmed, buried under a pile of work logs, unsure which problem to handle first.

Shang Lu was momentarily sidelined, giving him a chance to observe the giant humanoid weapon from behind. He slipped past the crowd around Old Ji, stepping forward along the corridor, reaching out to touch the chipped red armor.

He noticed a sealed hatch nearly a meter tall at the back of the neck, bolted tight.

Before he could examine further, a loud “shhh—” burst from inside the mech.

It sounded like the air release of a large truck’s brake cylinder.

Then the bolts on the hatch began to turn, accompanied by a clicking and clacking sound. Something was moving inside.

Shang Lu imagined a giant spider trapped within—only a spider could control four arms simultaneously—frantically clawing at the metal inner walls, desperate to break free.

With a “click,” the hatch opened, revealing a young woman leaning sideways in the deep red light.

She wore heavy gear like a spacesuit and held a helmet in one hand, clad entirely in black, her face pale as paper.

Shang Lu was stunned.

“Hey! Are you blind?” she gasped, then shouted at the dazed Shang Lu, “Give me a hand!”