Long-life Species I

Cleo,

I hope this letter finds you well.

First and foremost, I hereby declare: I voluntarily relinquish any right to claim remuneration from Scholar Cleo regarding this article.

Now, pretend this is a list complaining about all the setbacks of a foolish old coot like me. Before the trip, you kept asking me why I took on this Luofu mission at my age. Back then, I... I'm sorry, I don't remember what I told you at the time. But I know that I still owe you a sincere reply.

I know that the academy sent us here to engage in the profitable exchange of information, not to hear us ceaselessly repeat in our reports about the beautiful sights aboard the Xianzhou. But regarding the key issue of longevity, I'm like my predecessors whose only success has been managing to take in those beautiful sights.

It's been almost 12 standardized months since I came to the Luofu — so one year has passed according to the Xianzhou star calendar. I've partied at the Grand Fair in Starskiff Haven, despite the herniated disc in my back; I've drunk the cultural heritage phenomenon of mung bean soda, as recommended by amicassadors (and when I say cultural heritage, just imagine what a hundred-year fermentation process it is — it's nothing to the Xianzhou natives!); and I've been to the Alchemy Commission for their acupuncture therapy. I feel as though I'm 20 years younger! Still good for another few whacks from the old lady's turner!

After all of these meaningless activities, I should have, as my failed predecessor should have, posed this crucial question: "How can I, with my osteoporosis, failing memory, skin sagged like an empty beanbag... How can I return to the days of my youth, and live out another thousand years of life — just like you folks here on Xianzhou do?"

I never asked it though, Cleo — I never said a word. And that's why I'm sitting here sipping tea and writing up all of these letters of repine.

All the intelligent beings in the universe want the secret to everlasting youth. Whilst we overwhelm ourselves with the suffering of life, we search inside ourselves and say: When our chance comes, we must take it and extend our lifespans.

Yet without the help of technology, most intelligent hominids naturally wither and fade within the span of a hundred years. Except for a few races — those human subspecies known as long-life species.

Blessed by a whimsy Aeon (usually Yaoshi), the lives of some intelligent hominids cross that threshold set for them by death. They possess a long lifespan, and multiply in disastrous quantities. What's more worrying is their natural aggression in plundering resources from various homeworlds, sometimes completely converting entire ecosystems. You must be pretty familiar with these lifeforms: the Denizens of Abundance.

These Denizens of Abundance have no small volume of literature researched about them by the Intelligentsia Guild (as far as I know, many are utterly inhumane, but of course, the Abundance don't listen to reason). The researchers have all reached the same conclusion: The life-extension protocols of the Denizens of Abundance are intrinsically connected to their genetic make-up — cannibalism, interspecies blood transfusions, a hive mentality, rejuvenation via hibernation or molting... Despite easy access to longevity, most of the Denizens of Abundance lose their minds as they warp into twisted beasts (even if those saber-toothed tigers have somehow had access to interstellar travel, they would have caused less panic than the Denizens of Abundance do). Even if the Guild uncovers their secrets, nobody could commercialize it — rich people will never stump up the cost of treatment for inhuman long-living!

In the end, the Intelligentsia Guild turned their research toward a more civilized long-life species: The Xianzhou Alliance. They are mortal enemies locked in eternal combat against their fellow long-life species, the Denizens of Abundance. The Alliance seems rational, can we invest some money in learning the secret to long life from them?

Hmph, resource exchange, political mediation, trade wars... They have exhausted all possible methods to achieve nothing but regular academic exchanges. The Guild still doesn't plan on giving up, and keeps sending a stream of silly, cursed fools like us aboard the Xianzhou. Academic exchanges? Please, we might as well have the word "SPY" carved onto our foreheads. Do you really think the Xianzhou people don't get what we're up to? Will they just spill the beans while out doing grocery? Is it possible the masters governing the schools are all in fact idiots?

Cleo, I'm sorry about all this blathering. Maybe I'm the idiot here. I know it's an impossible task, but here I still am. Because I'm no longer the middle-aged guy who used to teach you back then — I'm old now, my joints all creak and crunch like there're spikes inside me, and I curse the universe every time I have to rise from my chair. $?%*&! Why? Why — no matter how far our tech advances — there is still no cure for arthritis? I truly regret not taking up the company on their cyber-medical insurance policy. At the time, I was filled with hubris and thought that I'd never grow old.

But I was wrong. Now I hope to see a breakthrough before I die.

Your dearest teacher, Todd Riordan