Chapter 81: In the Deep of Night

The house was eerily quiet, interrupted only by the gentle snoring of Big Cat Face’s youngest son. The silence was otherwise unbroken.

Lin Xian crept cautiously down the stairs, striving to make no sound. He was certain Big Cat Face was concealing something. Though Big Cat Face had acknowledged this, he intended to introduce Lin Xian to his boss tomorrow and involve him in their plans. But Lin Xian couldn’t wait until tomorrow.

At dinner, Lin Xian had glanced at the calendar. It was still August 28, 2624. This confirmed that although he hadn’t witnessed the apocalyptic white light at 00:42 yesterday, the world had likely been obliterated by it. The cycle persisted, the dream continued, and only the world had altered its facade.

Click. Click. Click.

Lin Xian tiptoed through the living room, navigating around the clutter left by Big Cat Face’s boisterous son. Fortunately, Mrs. Face had managed to tidy up before bed. Yet, despite her efforts, the small, cramped nature of the house remained unchanged.

Finally, Lin Xian reached the front door.

Creak——

The door squeaked open, causing Lin Xian to tense. He glanced back, but there was no stir from Mrs. Face or the children.

Lin Xian carefully locked the door behind him. He didn’t plan to return, and it seemed prudent to deter any potential thieves.

Turning, he embarked down the winding, uneven path, unsure of his destination in the disorganized sprawl of makeshift houses that blocked every view. No wonder he hadn’t spotted the new Donghai City or the distant black skyscraper during daylight.

“Living here too long would drive anyone mad,” Lin Xian muttered to himself.

Disoriented without the moon’s guidance and unable to discern east from west, he chose a direction at random and began to wander. Soon, he found himself at the small market where Big Cat Face had once purchased roast chicken. The area was bustling, hardly navigable for vehicles.

According to Big Cat Face, all resources in this world—knowledge, history, technology—were monopolized by the inhabitants of the new Donghai City. Lin Xian struggled to grasp the structure or rules of this world, unable to comprehend such a convoluted development trajectory. The physical proximity of the old and new Donghai belied a vast cultural and technological gulf as if it were as distant as Earth from the Moon.

But Lin Xian, from 600 years in the past, knew the true appearance of the moon. What was this black hand shadow? An enormous structure across the moon’s poles? A light-absorbing material? Whatever it was, it transformed the moon into an “art piece.”

Regrettably, to fully comprehend it, Lin Xian would need access to the archives in new Donghai City. “But it truly is an art,” he thought, admiring the moon from an artistic standpoint.

Due to tidal locking, the moon’s rotation period matches its orbit around Earth. This means... “The moon always shows the same face to Earth. We never see its far side.”

Thus, the emblem of the Genius Club could rise nightly, ever visible from Earth, a constant presence in the lunar cycle.

Lin Xian gazed towards the brilliantly lit, massive sci-fi city of New Donghai. Even at this late hour, it buzzed with activity, a city that never slept. Did its residents not require sleep or rest? What kind of lives did they lead? Immortality? Eternal youth? Or had they replaced their bodies with cybernetic parts, like characters from films and games, becoming fully mechanized?

Lin Xian didn’t know. “But I have to see it for myself.”

He glanced at his watch. 00:41:41

If this dream adhered to the rules of the “first dream,” there were just 19 seconds left before the apocalyptic white light would obliterate everything, waking him in his bed. But with such advanced human technology, was it possible they were oblivious to this impending disaster without any means of prevention?

Lin Xian looked up at the bustling New Donghai City, everything as usual. He looked down at his watch—00:41:57...00:41:58...00:41:59...

Suddenly, a faint fragrance of camellias drifted through the night air.

Tap.

A hand rested on Lin Xian’s shoulder.

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation