“That’s true, but won’t Earth be dangerous then, too? Look at how things are changing now. The country’s main economic force is being used to establish a space fleet, which is not a commercial good and will not bring in one cent in profit. People’s lives will only get worse. Add to that the sheer size of our base population, and simply having enough to eat becomes a problem. And then take a look at the international situation. Developing countries don’t have the ability to escape, and developed countries have refused to socialize their technology. But the poorer and smaller countries won’t give up. Aren’t they threatening to pull out of the Non-Proliferation Treaty? And they may take more extreme actions in the future. Who knows—in a hundred and twenty years, before the alien fleet even arrives, the world might be engulfed in the flames of war! Who knows what sort of life your great-grandson’s generation will lead. Besides, the escape ships aren’t what you imagine. Comparing them to the Shenzhou spaceship and the ISS is ridiculous. The ships will be big, each of them a small city, and a complete ecosystem to boot. Just like a tiny Earth. Humanity can live on them forever without any outside supplies. And most importantly, there will be hibernation. We can do that now, even. The passengers on board will spend most of their time in hibernation, where a century feels like no more than a day, until they reach the new world or they reach an accord with the Trisolarans to return to the Solar System. Then they’ll wake up. Isn’t that a much better life than suffering back on Earth?”

Zhang Yuanchao thought this over in silence.

Shi Xiaoming went on. “Of course, to be completely honest with you, space travel is indeed a dangerous thing. No one knows what sort of hazards they might encounter in space. I know you’re mostly doing this for the continuation of your Zhang lineage, but don’t let it worry you…”

Zhang stared at him as if he had been pricked. “How can you young people say things like that? Why wouldn’t I worry?”

“Let me finish, Uncle Zhang. I don’t mean it like that. I just mean that even if you don’t plan on sending your descendants to flee in spaceships, this fund is worth buying, guaranteed. Once it’s available for the general public to buy, the price will soar. There are lots of rich people, you know, and there aren’t many other avenues for investment, and hoarding is illegal. Besides, the more money you have, the more you think about preserving your line, wouldn’t you say?”

“Right. I know that.”

“Uncle Zhang, I’m being totally honest here. The escape fund is currently in a preliminary phase and has only a small number of special internal salespeople. It wasn’t easy for me to get in on the quota. At any rate, when you’ve thought it over, give me a call, and I’ll help you fill out the paperwork.”