"Don’t listen to your aunt’s nagging. I’m doing fine."
Xu Yishu lay on the bed, his gaunt face wearing a faint smile. When Xu Youyuan first walked in, she barely recognized him. Her father’s temples had turned almost completely white, his cheekbones protruded sharply, and his entire frame had withered away. Even his lips were tinged with purple.
Xu Youyuan sat down without saying much and began peeling an apple for him.
Xu Yishu glanced at his daughter but couldn’t bear to look again. He reached for a tissue and handed it to her.
She took it, casually wiping away the tears beneath her eyes before continuing to peel the apple. Once finished, she cut the fruit into small pieces, arranged them in a bowl with a fork, and handed it to her father.
"I miss Mom just as much as you do."
The moment Xu Youyuan spoke, Xu Yishu’s facade of strength shattered. His lips trembled slightly as he turned his face away, silently letting tears fall.
"Do you remember what Mom said before she left? She wanted us to keep living happily—that was her wish. She hated it when you drank. Do you really want to make her uneasy? And with me not around, seeing you like this… I don’t even know what to do. Auntie was right. If I’d just married some man and had kids, you wouldn’t be left with nothing to do but cling to a bottle all day."
Xu Yishu didn’t take the apple, so Xu Youyuan fed him herself.
He sighed and turned back to her. "I told you not to mind what your aunt says. She’s just a gossip. Your mother and I supported every decision you made. It’s your life—no one else gets a say. As for me… I just don’t know what to do with myself. Drinking helps me sleep sooner."
Xu Youyuan said, "I’ll move back to stay with you."
Xu Yishu nearly jumped. "No! What would you do in this small town? You’re still so young!"
It had been a long time since anyone called her young. Even Xu Youyuan herself felt her energy dwindling.
When she first left Squall, she’d been full of ambition. But now, what little drive remained had been worn down by the grind of reality.
"Right now, I don’t have much going on anyway. The freelance work I take can be done from home. Coming back means no rent, lower expenses, less pressure—and most importantly, I can be here for you. Though, if I move back, you’ll have to put up with more gossip." She smiled faintly. "Not like I’m some big-shot producer anymore. Just another unemployed nobody. No point clinging to that life."
Xu Yishu gripped her hand, stopping her.
"No matter what your situation is now, never settle for mediocrity. You are anything but ordinary, Youyuan. You changed the world once, and there are still greater things ahead of you. Even if the whole world stops believing in you, I… I will always trust you. You can’t come back. You can’t let yourself sink into comfort. Reputation doesn’t matter—what matters is your responsibility to this era. You can’t abandon that."
Xu Yishu had worked in traditional research, and his words often carried a lecturing tone. Hearing him speak so grandly, Xu Youyuan couldn’t help but chuckle.
There was a time when Xu Yishu had been deeply disappointed in his daughter for neglecting her studies in favor of gaming. But over the years, the industry had shifted from the fringes to the mainstream. The old prejudices faded as money poured in, and esports viewership now rivaled that of the NBA, Champions League, and World Cup.
Gradually, her parents had let go of their biases—even making an effort to understand the world their daughter loved.
After the Vehicle Incident, Xu Yishu had heard everything from Xu Youyuan. In fact, it was he who first pointed out the risks behind Squall’s reckless maneuvers.
The neural crystals used in full-dive gaming didn’t just create flawless immersion—they opened countless avenues for exploitation.
When the technology first emerged, Xu Youyuan had explained it in detail to her parents. Xu Yishu’s expression darkened as he raised several concerns, the most chilling being: If the system extracts other brain data, would players even know? Could they refuse?
If not, and if people remained unaware their minds were being mined for unrelated information, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Following her father’s warning, Xu Youyuan, representing her company, visited the Online Gaming Regulation Bureau and submitted a formal report on the potential dangers. The resulting "Full-Dive Gaming Operation Guidelines" mandated that all neural crystals developed or sold domestically must include monitoring protocols, with every neural data pathway under supervision.
For years, every game—led by Squall’s Rebirth Universe—had adhered to these rules. But two months before the Vehicle Incident, while testing a new feature, Xu Youyuan noticed something odd. Reviewing the data paths afterward, she found one missing. When she checked again, it reappeared.
A sense of unease settled over her. She erased traces of her own account’s activity and used a tester’s credentials to run what seemed like routine checks. Analyzing the backend data, she confirmed it—phantom pathways, all clustered in similar locations.
The pattern gave her an idea. With Lunar New Year approaching and the office nearly empty, Xu Youyuan hacked into the encrypted intranet. There, she uncovered unfamiliar data streams. Reconstructing them revealed exactly what she’d feared—yet the confirmation still stunned her.
Squall was trying to bypass the monitoring protocols and directly harvest players’ neural data.
The implications were too severe to act on immediately. After discussing it with Xu Yishu, she decided to wait, gathering evidence while observing Fat Liu’s next moves.
Xu Yishu urged her to document everything, ensuring she’d have proof if things escalated.
But whether she was caught during this process or flagged earlier during her tests and hacking, the Vehicle Incident soon erupted.
During the two weeks Xu Youyuan spent detained, every piece of evidence she’d painstakingly collected vanished.
Fat Liu’s intentions hadn’t been entirely clear at first—but forcibly ousting her, pinning all blame on her, and attempting to erase her from the industry only confirmed his malice.
Even in her lowest moments, Xu Youyuan never forgot her purpose. She kept searching for opportunities, for proof.
Yet between the filling of the Philmore Canyon and the daily grind of hardship, her resolve was wearing thin.
On the way back to her hometown after hearing about her father’s drunken fall, exhaustion truly hit her for the first time. The thought of retreating—of spending the rest of her days quietly here—felt almost comforting.
The hospital room’s window was small, stifling.
After listening to his daughter, Xu Yishu could see the weariness in her.
"No father would want their child to suffer, but Youyuan, if you just come back like this, would you be satisfied?"
The word "satisfied" stabbed Xu Youyuan right in the heart. Her weary eyes, dulled by exhaustion, suddenly sharpened with resolve as she shook her head firmly:
"No, I wouldn’t."
Xu Yishu said, "Before your mother passed away, I asked her if she had any regrets in life. She thought for a moment and answered with certainty—no. Remember how serene she was in her final moments? It’s not that she wasn’t afraid of death. Death is humanity’s ultimate fear; everyone is afraid. But she faced it with composure because she had no regrets, no lingering discontent. She lived true to herself. Youyuan, I want the same for you. When your time comes, I hope you can meet the end just as your mother did..."
This visit home had turned her father into anything but the drunkard she remembered. Instead, he served her a hearty bowl of motivational soup, pouring it down her throat in generous gulps.
Xu Youyuan had never been one for inspirational speeches, but she had to admit—even she found this occasional sip surprisingly nourishing. At the very least, it proved Old Xu’s mind was still sharp, unclouded by alcohol.
After a few days of recuperation in the hospital, Xu Yishu had repeatedly begged Xu Youyuan for drinks. She rationed him—one ounce at noon, another in the evening—but it was never enough to satisfy him. Frustrated, he started urging her to leave.
Xu Youyuan wasn’t in a hurry. She stayed by his side. Three days later, Xu Yishu could walk again and returned home. But home life was even stricter—no midday drink, just the single ounce at night.
Xu Yishu grew so desperate he nearly sleepwalked in search of liquor. Xu Youyuan, working late on her drawing board to meet deadlines, caught him red-handed every time.
"Sweetheart, you’ve got so much on your plate. The nation and its people are counting on you. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me—go back already," Xu Yishu pleaded, trying to guilt-trip her into loosening the restrictions. Xu Youyuan nearly laughed herself to tears:
"Dad, where was this shamelessness when Mom was around? Why didn’t you sneak drinks back then?"
Xu Yishu smirked, a rare slyness in his eyes. "Who says I didn’t?"
"Oh, so you were just that sneaky? Even your own daughter never noticed!"
By the fifth day, Shi Ye called, asking where she’d disappeared to this time—her place was empty again.
Xu Youyuan told her she’d be heading back today. Shi Ye offered to pick her up.
"No need, I’ll just take a cab."
She really had to return. Her pet, A-Shuang, was still at the boarding facility, and prolonged stays risked depression. As for Old Xu, he seemed much better now that he’d seen his daughter.
Before leaving, Xu Youyuan warned him: "Cut back on the drinking. If you end up hospitalized again, I’ll come right back. The vacuum trains are fast these days—just a movie’s length away. And next time? Not even half an ounce for you."
"Take care of yourself. Don’t drain the pond to catch all the fish," she added.
Xu Yishu adjusted his glasses, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Why do I feel like I’m the kid here?"
Xu Youyuan grinned. "Be glad you’re not. Otherwise, you’d have it much worse."
On the return train, Cang Lu video-called to discuss the project proposal.
"I’ve reviewed the plan. It’s polished, but the core gameplay is just... too ordinary. I know it’ll make money, but it lacks distinction. We both know it won’t explode. I only want the best—if it’s mediocre, I’d rather not do it at all." Cang Lu, lounging on her sofa, looked freshly awake. Whether it was her bare face or not, her tone was uncharacteristically stern. "Youyuan, let me ask you something. When do you think love feels most intense, most palpable?"
The non-technical question caught Xu Youyuan off guard. After a pause, she ventured,
"When it’s mutual?"
Cang Lu rolled her eyes so hard it was almost audible. "I’ll be blunt—you might not be the right fit for this project. I’ll look elsewhere. I’ve got other ideas too; I’ll loop you in once they’re more developed."
Xu Youyuan had nothing to add but a nod.
Cang Lu took a sip of water, studying the screen before asking, "What time do you arrive? I’ll meet you."
"Don’t bother, I’ll grab a cab," Xu Youyuan replied lightly. "Honestly, it’s fine. I’d rather you speak your mind than waste time."
"Shi Ye mentioned you tried dating in the Dark Box to research the proposal?"
"Damn it, she can’t keep anything to herself! I told her not to blab! I’m sewing her mouth shut!"
"What’s wrong with being professional?"
From Cang Lu’s tone, it seemed Shi Ye had only spilled the first half—nothing about Shi Yue.
Xu Youyuan backpedaled fast. "Well, it’s embarrassing since none of them worked out."
"Impossible. When has our Bird Sister ever lacked suitors? Even Little An had to put in serious effort back then. How could you strike out entirely?"
"It’s... a long story." Xu Youyuan’s voice wavered slightly, eager to redirect. "I’ll fill you in another time."
After hanging up, she leaned back, disheartened by the rejected proposal.
The vacuum train sped through its tunnel, offering no scenery—just monotony. Years ago, they’d installed 4D screens on windows, streaming sixteen famous landscapes passengers could choose from. Later, the selection expanded to hundreds, and with a data cable, riders could upload their own. Now, every window framed a different world.
Xu Youyuan hadn’t bothered downloading anything. She picked the Alps at random. The view shifted—the towering Matterhorn rose in the distance, piercing the sky.
Lush plains and azure skies adjusted seamlessly with the train’s motion, eerily lifelike.
After humanity conquered the solar system, Earth’s wonders became free virtual experiences. Today’s pricey trips to Venus might soon be loss leaders for tourism.
The world moved too fast. Only by pausing her frantic sprint could Xu Youyuan take stock. Beyond her work in the metaverse, much of the new world eluded her.
Immersion in hologames, obsession with grievances, stretches of scraping by—she’d slowed just a step, yet the dread of being left behind was palpable.
Family, self, future... She was greedy. She couldn’t let go of any of it.
Past the age of effortless adaptability, with no luxury of time to explore, she had to outwork the twenty-somethings flooding the scene.
So, pride? Best to toss it aside.
Sister: "She arrives at 18:50, S6 Station, Train ZK9980."
The meeting had just ended, and everyone was packing up their laptops and projector equipment. Shi Yue remained seated, reading a text message from Shi Ye.
While organizing the meeting notes, Little An accidentally caught a glimpse of their boss—her lips curling into a brief, suppressed smile.
"Kun." Shi Yue called out to a colleague who had just stood up to leave. "Aren’t you heading to Tomorrow City for a business trip right now?"
Kun: "Me? Now? No, it’s tomorrow, isn’t it?"
"No, you are." Shi Yue rose to her feet. "I happen to be free. I’ll take you to the station."
Kun: "??"
166 Reading Network
