[Dear player “Shuang Mu Cheng Jing,” congratulations on successfully clearing the script “Antique Codex.” Mode: Adventure, Level: Beginner, Score: +25]
[Background of “Antique Codex”: Life was born in the deep sea of the Hadean eon. From birth to death, from rise to decline, in the billions of years of time, it was only a fleeting moment—only time remembers.]
KK’s gentle voice echoed in the darkness, and Lin Jing emerged from the game. A glowing blue settlement screen floated before his eyes.
[PO: -25 points]
[Chubby Is Cute: -25 points]
[Karl: -25 points]
[A Rock: -25 points]
[Keke: -25 points]
[Despicable: -23 points (reset)]
[Elina: -25 points]
[I’m A Good Boy: +19 points]
[Shuang Mu Cheng Jing: +25 points]
Unbelievable. Almost a total wipeout.
Lin Jing: “……” If he posted this scoreboard on the Survivor forums, it would definitely go viral.
By the time he exited the game, it was nighttime in the real world. Having experienced one game already, Lin Jing no longer felt as weak.
He rubbed his temples, shaking off his drowsiness, and got up from his chair, intending to head downstairs for some food.
At this hour, his parents were already asleep, and the house was shrouded in darkness.
As Lin Jing descended the stairs, he spotted a soft glow in the silence.
Only when he got closer did he realize—it was the hyacinth his mother kept indoors.
The flower’s large bloom emitted a gentle, silvery radiance, as light and delicate as moonlight.
Reaching out his hand, it felt as though silk was flowing over his fingertips.
Lost in thought, Lin Jing mused—his mother really did love hyacinths.
After eating, he returned to his room and slept through the night.
By the time Lin Jing woke up, it was already the next morning.
He checked his terminal. As expected, there were no new friend requests.
Of course, Black Jacket’s words were just nonsense. Or maybe he got so carried away celebrating that he forgot.
In Survivor, the only way to add other players as friends was through the settlement screen. There was no search function—once outside, there was no way to find someone again. If you missed your chance, it meant you had no fate with them.
That is… unless their name appeared on the rankings.
Rankings… Oh right, he said he would add Xu Wanzhi.
Lin Jing moved his mouse, about to check the official website, but his hand hesitated for a long time.
His emotions were complicated.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
The door automatically slid open, and a round-headed robot peeked inside, enthusiastically saying, “Good morning, Master. Time for breakfast.”
Lin Jing exhaled a breath of relief.
For some reason, he felt reluctant to add Xu Wanzhi.
Maybe it was fine to just do something else for now.
Professor Lin had already left for his morning lecture, so the only person downstairs was Lin Jing’s mother.
She had set down a half-finished glass of milk beside her and was reading the newspaper. Hearing footsteps, she glanced up, her deep blue eyes filled with amusement. “Good morning, Lin Little Jing. How old are you now, and you still need me to call you down for breakfast?”
Lin Jing hesitated for a second before casually replying, “Wasn’t hungry.”
His mother snorted. “Right. Like someone didn’t sneak downstairs to snack in the middle of the night.”
Lin Jing took a bite of his bread. “Mom, that’s not how you use the word ‘sneak.'”
She rolled her eyes. “Did you mess with my flowers?”
Lin Jing stiffened and chose to remain silent.
“I knew it,” she huffed. “There were petals all over the floor this morning.” She rolled up her newspaper and raised it as if about to smack him.
Lin Jing: “……” This was an injustice! Who knew the flowers were that delicate?!
But being a man who understood the situation, he chose to change the subject. “Mom, do you have class today?”
His mother sighed, both exasperated and amused. “You little rascal.” But she still put her newspaper away and said, “Afternoon class. I’ll head to the university later. Want to come with me?”
Lin Jing nearly choked on his milk. “Why would I go with you?”
She replied, “To get some fresh air. Ever since you came back from the hospital, you’ve either been cooped up at home or stuck in that game. You barely look human anymore.”
Lin Jing weakly asked, “Can I refuse?”
His mother smiled sweetly. “What do you think?”
Lin Jing: “……”
Hailan Star had four distinct seasons—warm winters and cool summers. More than once, it had been ranked the happiest and most livable planet on the star network.
Traveling from the forested mountain roads to the bustling city had its own kind of carefree charm.
The most famous landmark of Hailan University is the vast lavender field in front of the library, just past the main entrance. Many visitors consider it a must-see spot, stopping by to take photos, filling the place with the sounds of laughter and chatter.
After parking the car, Mother Lin led him toward her office.
Lin Jing stared at the sea of flowers thoughtfully and asked, “Mom, didn’t we have a flower field in front of our house when I was little?”
Mother Lin blinked, looking somewhat proud. “That’s right, and I was the one who insisted on planting those hyacinths despite everyone’s objections.”
Lin Jing: “…I knew it.” It was your doing.
Holding a stack of documents, Mother Lin’s white dress swayed gently in the breeze as she walked along the tree-lined path. She smiled and said, “You still remember the flower field? Do you also remember the big rock in the middle of it? When you were little, your favorite thing to do was climb up there and daydream.”
Lin Jing: “Huh?”
Mother Lin said, “There was this huge rock in the middle of the field. It looked out of place, but it was embedded so deeply in the ground that we couldn’t move it. We just had to leave it there. When your dad and I were too busy to watch over you, we knew exactly where to find you—curled up on that rock, fast asleep.”
Lin Jing: “…”
Hearing this, Lin Jing started to recall faint memories. “Didn’t you also tell me stories there?”
Mother Lin chuckled. “Oh? You remember now?”
Lin Jing scoffed, “Yeah, I remember. You were terrible at reading stories. You’d mess up fairy tales, skip sentences, jumble up the order—an absolute disaster.” As a child, he had nearly cried out of frustration.
Mother Lin: “…”
Unable to hold back a laugh, she said, “I didn’t realize you had such strong opinions about my storytelling. Was I really that bad? You still cried over The Little Mermaid, though. And you kept pestering me about what happened to the evil fairy in Sleeping Beauty.”
Lin Jing would rather not dwell on how clueless he had been as a child. His face remained expressionless. “That was just me being sentimental. It had nothing to do with your storytelling skills.”
Mother Lin’s lips curled into a gentle smile. “The older you get, the less adorable you become.”
As their conversation continued, curiosity got the better of Lin Jing. “You put so much effort into planting a whole sea of hyacinths, so why did we move away?”
By now, he could tell that his mother had truly loved that place.
Mother Lin’s smile faded slightly. She was silent for a moment before tucking a few stray hairs behind her ear and replying lightly, “Why so many questions today?”
Lin Jing looked at her and pressed his lips together, choosing not to push the subject. His mother clearly didn’t want to talk about it—whatever had happened must have been a painful memory.
For some reason, a particular scene flashed through his mind again—his mother standing at the staircase that night, eyes red with unshed tears, shaking her head, silently pleading with him to stop asking.
Mother Lin led him to her office.
Her office was on the top floor, with a staircase leading up to the rooftop.
She had come back to grab her USB drive with lecture materials. Once she had it, she left, leaving Lin Jing alone in the office.
The room was simple yet filled with personal touches—bookshelves, a sofa, a computer, a desk, and small potted flowers carefully placed around, adding a soft and romantic charm.
Lin Jing sat at the desk and opened the computer. On impulse, he wanted to search for those four words again. But Elena had been right—whether it was “cosmic fireworks” or “Aurora explosion,” the search engine turned up nothing. Every trace had been completely erased.
Then…
Lilith?
Every word Elina had said had been pointed and deliberate. Could “Lilith” be another clue?
He searched for “Lilith” and found over ten thousand results.
The top entry was an informational article, accompanied by an image—the same one Ke Lingxuan had mentioned. It showed Lilith lifting her skirt slightly as she turned her head back. She had golden curls, violet eyes, and a halo of sunlight surrounding her, exuding an air of arrogance and defiance.
The bold text next to the image stated her name: Lilith Osmond, followed by four characters that signified unparalleled nobility.
The author of the article was clearly a devoted fan, praising her endlessly.
Lin Jing skimmed through it quickly but found nothing particularly useful. Eventually, he clicked on the related entry for the Osmond Family.
The Osmond family was currently one of the most influential noble families in the empire.
The current patriarch served as the Speaker of the Counsel, wielding immense political power. His family members held high-ranking positions across various governmental bodies.
The direct bloodline traced through the Counsel Chief’s lineage.
He had two brothers and three children. One daughter had married into the royal family, one son was in scientific research, and the youngest daughter—Lilith—was a university student at Imperial University.
In the interstellar age, everything was determined by ability, and every profession required public assessment and approval. The fact that every member of the Osmond family had reached such heights was a testament to their extraordinary genes.
The entry included an old family portrait of the former Speaker.
It had been taken years ago. The elderly Counsel Chief and his wife sat in the center, flanked by their three young sons—who would later become high-ranking officials.
But as Lin Jing hovered his mouse over the image, his eyes locked onto a small figure in the center—held in the arms of the Counsel Chief’s wife. His pupils dilated in shock.
This was someone who hadn’t been mentioned at all.
A little girl, wearing a large white bow in her hair, with long lace ribbons trailing down. Her voluminous dress was elaborate, embroidered with intricate flowers so realistic they seemed alive. Yet, despite her delicate and adorable attire, there was nothing warm or human about her.
She had jet-black hair cascading over her shoulders, and her deep violet eyes were nearly black. Her features were exquisite—beautiful beyond words—yet utterly devoid of vitality. She wasn’t like a lifeless doll on display, either. Instead, she resembled a superior, hyper-intelligent being, gazing down at the world with an indifferent, detached expression.
Lin Jing was stunned.
Below the photo was a name: Laecia Osmond.
The former youngest daughter of the Osmond family.
So…
The Counsel Chief actually had a sister. Which meant that Laecia was Lilith’s aunt.
Yet now, every trace of her had been deliberately erased. She had become someone who could no longer be spoken of.
Elena’s chilling words echoed in his mind—
SSS-level mental power. A lunatic. Selfish. Ruthless…
If he guessed correctly…
This person should be… Xu Wanzhi’s mother?