KK’s announcement faded, but the darkness didn’t dissipate as usual.
Lin Jing was still in a daze, staring blankly at the rapidly scrolling chat. His mind hadn’t caught up yet.
The chat was filled with screaming “AAAAAAAHHH” and a chaotic mix of question marks and exclamation marks.
【This background summary is too beautiful. I’m crying. Romance and innocence remain eternal.】
【…Holy cr*p, so the ending was already determined from the beginning????】
【I get it now. The three soul-rewinding formations each took us back to the past of the princess, the queen, and Christine? The real goal of this role-playing dungeon was to fill in the logical gaps and complete each character’s story.】
【I thought I was watching a livestream, but I was actually watching a love story. 😭😭😭】
【Am I the only one who noticed Lin Jing called out a different name at the end? It wasn’t Cyril!】
【I’m shipping it. I’m shipping it hard.】
The girls in the chat were gushing over the romance, while the guys were dissecting the plot.
The excitement was overwhelming.
Then, a soft blue glow surrounded the screen, and a large results panel appeared before Lin Jing, listing scores for over twenty players.
【Shuang Mu Cheng Jing: +25】
【Lucky Rat: +20】
【W: +5】
【Charles: +3】
【Blackbeard: +1】
【Little Conch Beep Beep Beep: +1】
【Harsh Critic: +1】
…
Below that was a long list of players who had failed the dungeon, all with negative scores.
【Rumor Has It That Love Is Hard to Find: -23】
【Tears Are Salty: -25】
【Even the Wind Loves Your Gentleness: -25】
【Teach Me How Not to Miss Him: -25】
…..
Lin Jing was still dazed, as the excited “AAAAAHH” in the chat finally quieted down, replaced by celebratory messages.
【Throwing confetti! Congrats on getting full marks for the third time in a row!】
【Cheers! This time, no one can accuse you of cheating by relying on your boyfriend, right? 😂】
【? LOL am I the only one who noticed the failed players all had heartbreak-themed usernames?】
【I see it now. The successful players each have their own unique style, but the failed ones… all lost to love.】
【Understood. Women… are slowing down my ranking progress.】
【Got it. I’m grabbing a knife to go find my boyfriend now.】
Just as the chat was filled with laughter and celebration, KK’s voice suddenly returned.
This time, it wasn’t the usual soft and sweet tone—it was cold, mechanical, and filled with anger.
【Warning: The system has detected a special player attempting to forcibly alter world data. Penalty: Point deduction.】
【Second warning: Three violations will result in permanent account deletion.】
At the bottom of the penalty list, a name appeared, highlighted in red.
【Wan Feng Wan Yue: -500】
The chat exploded.
【WTF!!!!!!!!!!!】
【??????????】
***
Lin Jing had seen that woman before.
It was a rainy day. Butterflies flew low.
Their first conversation was simple and abrupt.
“What are you looking at?”
“Hyacinths.”
When the woman in the black dress and black gloves left, Lin Jing’s mother came to find him. He told her about the encounter.
His mother was briefly stunned before asking, “Did she say anything else to you?”
Lin Jing shook his head. “No. She gave me a piece of candy.”
During the summer, the main star had the best view of shooting stars, especially in the forest base.
At night, the sky, free of train tracks and barriers, looked like the Milky Way pouring down.
As a child, Lin Jing’s favorite thing was to sit on a rock at night and stare at the sky.
His mother would dry his hair.
Lin Jing, holding his little robot, curiously asked, “That lady seems to visit once a year.”
His mother replied, “Because there’s someone here she wants to see.”
“Who? The director?”
“Children don’t need to know about these things.”
Lin Jing lowered his head, fiddling with the robot’s arm, and honestly admitted, “She was really beautiful.”
His mother said, “Laixiya was once the most beautiful woman in the Empire. She was back then, and she still is now.”
Lin Jing thought of the fairy tale he had heard earlier. “Was Sleeping Beauty as beautiful as her?”
Mother Lin bent down and fed him the candy. “Just as beautiful. Kind people are always beautiful.”
Lin Jing chewed on the candy, nodded, and then said, “Her eyes look a bit like the sky.”
Mother Lin raised an eyebrow. “The sky?”
Lin Jing nodded. “Mm. They’re like purple, but also like black. The color of the sky. Very high, very far, like the feeling of the sky. Mom, look up.”
The night sky was pitch-black, covered in a light purple mist, embracing thousands of twinkling stars.
Mother Lin remained silent in the sea of flowers for a long time before rubbing Lin Jing’s soft hair. “Have you played enough? Let’s go back to sleep.”
Lin Jing hugged his little robot and hesitated. “Mom, is that lady unhappy?”
“Mm.”
“Why is she unhappy?”
“Because…” The words meant to comfort a child stopped at her lips. The wind blew gently, and Mother Lin finally said, “Because geniuses are always unhappy.”
At that moment, a butterfly, lost in its way, bumped into Lin Jing’s nose, leaving a powdery trace on his face.
Lin Jing didn’t have time to ponder, “Why are geniuses unhappy?” His pupils widened, his mind filled only with one thought—he had to catch that butterfly.
In a flash, he set his robot on the rock, ran barefoot, and leaped forward.
“Lin Jing—” Mother Lin was startled and reached out to grab his arm.
But the little boy had already dashed off like the wind.
The white butterfly fluttered its wings under the starlight.
On that summer night, the wind was cool and gentle, carrying white hyacinth petals into the air.
The butterfly flew into the base, and Lin Jing chased after it.
It climbed the stairs.
Lin Jing followed.
It climbed another flight.
Lin Jing still followed.
By the time he reached the third floor, he was already running out of breath.
Fortunately, the lights above the third floor were all off. The butterfly fluttered deeper into the hallway. Lin Jing hesitated—he was a little scared, but after chasing it for so long, giving up now didn’t feel right.
He gritted his teeth and ran forward. The dark corridor ended at a tightly closed laboratory door.
Just as the butterfly reached a meter from the door, a blue laser shot out, slicing it cleanly in two. Its severed wings drifted to the ground, snapping apart like a broken thread.
Lin Jing was so startled that he froze on the spot.
A second later, a red alarm blared through the hallway, but luckily, it only lasted a second—no one was alerted.
Then, the laboratory door opened.
His father stood there in a white lab coat, wearing glasses. His refined and scholarly face showed a trace of surprise. “Lin Jing?”
Lin Jing, who had been scared out of his wits a second ago, stared blankly for a few seconds before letting out a heavy sigh of relief.
Father Lin frowned. “What are you doing here alone?”
“I…” Lin Jing couldn’t possibly say he was chasing a butterfly—that sounded too silly. Thinking quickly, he rushed forward and hugged his father’s waist. “Dad, I missed you.”
Father Lin was easy to fool. He chuckled, bent down, and ruffled Lin Jing’s hair. “Wait a bit, and we’ll go home together.”
Lin Jing nodded. “Okay.”
His father led him into the laboratory.
“Don’t touch anything. Stay quiet.”
Lin Jing: “Mm-hmm.”
He had grown up in the base and was strictly disciplined. Though playful outside, he was always obedient in the lab.
Father Lin returned to his work, handling a vial of crystal-blue liquid.
Meanwhile, Lin Jing’s attention was drawn to the largest glass test tube in the center of the lab. He stood frozen, staring at it.
What is that?
His large, damp brown eyes blinked in confusion as he cautiously stepped closer.
As he neared, the light illuminated it more clearly.
Above the test tube, red wires connected to various machines.
Inside was a boy, slightly older than him.
The liquid inside was blue. The boy had his eyes closed, his skin pale, his features delicate—cold, lifeless, devoid of any human warmth.
A small platform stood before the test tube. Too short to see properly, Lin Jing carefully stepped onto it.
Father Lin, now done with his work, removed his gloves and approached. Seeing Lin Jing staring, he chuckled. “What are you looking at?”
Lin Jing tilted his head, deep in thought, and reached out to touch the boy’s face.
The light cast over the boy’s long lashes, trailing down to his wrist, then his lips—cold and distant, as if trapped in an eternal dream.
After a long pause, Lin Jing softly said, “He looks like the Sleeping Beauty in the story.”
It was the fairy tale his mother had told him earlier that day.
In the story, Sleeping Beauty had a beautiful name—Aurora.
Father Lin smiled, half amused.
Lin Jing pressed his palm against the glass, aligning it perfectly with the boy’s face. He tilted his head, suddenly struck with an idea. “If I kiss him, will he wake up?”
Father Lin chuckled, bending down to ruffle his hair. “You can try.”
Lin Jing hesitated for a second, then nodded.
“Okay, I’ll try.”
The five-year-old boy took a step forward, stood on his toes, and gently kissed the glass.
A light, feathery kiss.
A child’s innocent test—curious, nervous, expectant. Naïve and pure.
The pale blue liquid swirled gently, and the boy inside remained lifeless, his skin like cold, silent light.
The laboratory was dark, the air tinged with a faint blue glow, the machines pulsating red. The world suddenly felt eerie, secretive.
Lin Jing pressed against the glass, his clear eyes like a young beast’s, staring intently without blinking.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds…
A long silence.
But the figure inside the test tube did not wake.
Disappointed, Lin Jing pulled back and wrinkled his nose. “He still didn’t wake up.”
Father Lin, unsurprised, nodded. “Mm.”
“Why? Because he’s not a princess?”
Professor Lin smiled. “Maybe when you grow up, you can wake him.”
![The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]](https://i1.wp.com/lazygirltranslations.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/02/unnamed-5.jpg?resize=151,215 "The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar]")
