The No. 1 Hunfen King in the Entire Server [Interstellar] Chapter 73

When Lin Jing exited the game, it was already nighttime.

The apartment he rented was near Imperial University, far from the bustling city. The nights were especially quiet.

Outside, only the patrolling drones buzzed, sweeping past the window with a trail of blue light.

Back in reality, all the pain from the game turned into exhaustion.

His limbs ached, drained of all strength.

Lin Jing stared blankly ahead, his mind empty.

Then, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and got up to take a shower.

As water cascaded from the showerhead, the soreness in his eyes finally eased.

He moved quickly, drying his hair roughly with a towel before walking to the window and dialing his home number.

On Hailan Star, it was still afternoon.

His mother had just returned from the university and was watering the plants.

“Sweetheart, why are you calling so suddenly?”

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window on the 10th floor, Lin Jing gazed at the slightly purple sky of District 2, closed his eyes briefly, and said, “Mom, can you tell me about Xu Wanzhi?”

The moment he spoke, he realized his voice was unbearably hoarse.

Hearing his voice, his mother had initially been concerned, wanting to ask, What happened to your throat?

But when she heard that name, her pupils widened slightly.

Her words froze in her throat.

A long silence fell over the call.

Even the sound of water trickling onto the plants had stopped.

“Xu Wanzhi?” After a while, his mother spoke softly. “Sweetheart, why are you asking about him?”

Lin Jing pressed his hand lightly against the window, his face pale, eyelashes trembling violently.

Outside, skyscrapers lined the horizon, their massive digital screens flickering like virtual fireworks.

As his palm touched the cold glass, a strange mix of soreness and numbness, like a tiny electric current, shot through his brain.

Only now did Lin Jing finally understand why, at the end of Ancient Codex, he had felt such a complicated emotion.

The dark cave at the bottom of the sinkhole, the ancient roaring ocean just beyond a glass wall.

In the dim blue light, Xu Wanzhi had walked toward him.

Just like their first meeting in childhood.

His five fingers pressed tightly against the glass, fitting perfectly.

Lin Jing smiled.

His mother’s voice on the other end was gentle yet worried. “Lin Jing?”

He responded with startling calmness. “Because I love him.”

The line fell into a deathly silence.

Lin Jing, still exhausted from the game, confessed to his parents in a steady, deliberate voice.

“Mom, I think I like Xu Wanzhi.”

“We met when we were kids, didn’t we?”

On Hailan Star, the climate was warm and springlike all year round.

The wind, carrying the scent of sunlit forests, breezed into the room.

His mother stood still, staring blankly at a large hyacinth flower in full bloom.

The pages of a book beside her rustled in the wind.

After a long while, she set down the watering can and said, “Yes, you met.”

She closed her eyes briefly before reopening them, her tone clear and composed. “But Lin Jing, he is incapable of love.”

Her smile vanished entirely. “I was responsible for monitoring his growth back then. The data showed his empathy was at zero.”

“He doesn’t understand joy or sorrow, love or hate. Even the basic human instincts of crying and laughter had to be taught and mimicked. If you’ve fallen for him…”

She hesitated before lowering her voice. “It will only bring you pain.”

The wind flipped through the open book pages again, but she said nothing more.

Lin Jing remained silent. Though physically drained from the game, his mind had never been clearer.

With his fingers still against the cold glass, he murmured, “No, Mom. I don’t think you understand him at all.”

His mother was quiet for a while, then calmly put her book away and spoke with firm finality.

“Your father and I will leave for the main star tomorrow. Drink more water for your throat. And get some rest—sleep early.”

Then, without another word, she hung up.

Lin Jing pursed his lips. His hair had mostly dried by now. He tossed the towel aside and collapsed onto the bed.

Originally, he had wanted to contact Xu Wanzhi first.

But as childhood memories resurfaced, the urge for confirmation had driven him to call his mother instead.

Now, completely drained, the moment his head hit the pillow, he slipped into a deep, hazy sleep.

The next day, Lin Jing was woken by Lu Xingyu’s phone call.

He had slept until the afternoon and was then forcibly dragged out for a meal.

In the corner of the Imperial University cafeteria, the midterms were over, but the finals season hadn’t ended yet, so the place was nearly empty.

Lin Jing, still groggy, rested his head lazily on one hand, picking at fruit with a fork, his appetite lacking.

Lu Xingyu, sitting across from him, stared intensely.

After a long silence, he finally snapped. “You have nothing to explain to me?!”

Lin Jing calmly took another bite. “Explain what? Didn’t you already know?”

Lu Xingyu practically exploded. “Know what, my *ss! All I know is that just yesterday, you were crying to me about your crush being a failure, and then the next second in the game, you’re making out with the guy! Oh, and before you logged in, you told me you weren’t even close with him?! Not close? Not close, my *ss! Would a ‘not close’ senior risk a 500-point deduction for you like a complete lunatic?”

Lin Jing: “……”

It hadn’t felt like a big deal in the game, but hearing Lu Xingyu say it out loud made it feel absurdly embarrassing.

For once, Lin Jing was at a loss for words. He forced himself to respond, “That kiss was just part of the game. It has nothing to do with my real emotions.”

Lu Xingyu, whose crush was still painfully out of reach, felt his teeth ache with bitterness.

“I told you to stream the game to clear your name, not to turn it into a public romance showcase! Now look—do you even want to see the entire star network’s reaction to your ‘divine love story’?”

Lin Jing: “……”

See what, my *ss.

Expressionless, he deadpanned, “No.”

Lu Xingyu sneered. “Well, too bad. The whole star network is talking about it. ‘Wan Feng Wan Yue.’ These four words have been plastered everywhere. Who would’ve thought the first time us regular folks would finally see this legendary ID, it’d be in this kind of scene? Lucky you. Hun.”

Lu Xingyu sighed, “A big shot is a big shot—he actually managed to forcibly modify the data in Survivor.”

“Some girls have already written over 100,000 words about your love story—the past and present grievances of the former and current number one. I even heard screams from the dorm across the hall last night.” Lu Xingyu suddenly smirked and said mischievously, “By the way, from your final game results, everyone has derived an important life lesson.”

“Love really affects your ranking speed. The crazier you’re in love, the harder you get penalized.”

“…..” Lin Jing was speechless.

Seeing Lin Jing’s helpless and exasperated look, Lu Xingyu finally felt a little better and asked, “So, what do you plan to do now?”

Lin Jing replied, “Go to the base.”

Lu Xingyu said, “Didn’t Dean Chang tell you to train first?”

Hearing this, Lin Jing paused, put down his fork, and said softly, “I think… my mental power has already recovered to A.”

Lu Xingyu’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What?!”

Lin Jing stretched out his palm, quietly observing the lines in his hand, then looked up and asked, “Did you see the blue light at the end of the game?”

Lu Xingyu scratched his head. “Uh, yeah, I think so. It shot through the crack in the sky—it looked pretty cool. I thought it was just an ending cutscene.”

Lin Jing smirked slightly. “No, I think it was some kind of radiation. Right after it appeared, my whole body felt like it was being torn apart.”

Lu Xingyu was shocked. “And then it directly boosted you from B to A?!”

Lin Jing: “…Probably. I need to go to the research institute to confirm.”

Dean Chang had actually been urging him to visit ever since he logged out of the game.

Lu Xingyu suddenly raised his arm and waved a small knife. “Wait, before you go, I have a tiny request.”

Lin Jing raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”

Lu Xingyu grinned. “Now that it’s all official, I guess that kinda makes me a matchmaker, right? So… can you send me a photo of senior?”

Lin Jing barely held back his irritation. “You? A matchmaker? Please.”

He still hadn’t settled the score with Lu Xingyu for almost getting him banned from the game. He was just in a good mood, so he let it slide for now.

Actually, Lin Jing had already messaged Xue Wanzhi.

No matter how realistic the game felt, coming back to reality still made everything seem like a dream.

He spent ages typing and deleting messages, hesitating over what to say, before finally sending one he thought was appropriate:

[I’ll come find you after my mental power recovers ^^]

He even carefully picked out the two symbols at the end, hoping they’d make the message seem a little friendlier.

Though, according to Lu Xingyu, those symbols were usually used sarcastically.

Still, after a long search, this was the best he could find.

Then he quickly locked his screen, feeling anxious as he waited for a reply.

But by the time he arrived at the research base, there was still no response from Xue Wanzhi.

The person welcoming him was the same senior from before—a long-haired woman in a white lab coat, holding a notebook.

This time, however, her expression was incredibly complicated.

Her gaze was full of curiosity and wonder, and every now and then, she even shook her head in disbelief.

Lin Jing felt a bit uneasy under her scrutiny. He forced a polite smile.

The senior saw this, sucked in a breath, and let out another deep sigh.

Lin Jing braced himself. “Senior, can you take me to Dean Chang?”

The senior nodded but couldn’t hold back her question. “Little Jing, when exactly did you two fall in love?”

He knew this was coming.

Lin Jing smiled politely. “A long time ago, I guess. Senior, I’d rather not talk about it.”

The senior held back her curiosity. “Alright, I was just wondering.”

Then she added, “By the way, be careful when you go in. Dean Chang is still pretty mad.”

Lin Jing: “Huh?”

The senior sighed and muttered, “You think Xue Wanzhi’s 500-point penalty was unfair? Actually, it wasn’t at all. If the punishment system hadn’t been pre-set and impossible to change in time, I think the director would have banned him outright.”

Lin Jing: “…”

The senior thought for a moment before adding, “But with his personality, I doubt he cares whether he gets banned or not. I’ve rarely seen him interested in anything. I guess geniuses are always cold and distant.”

At the same time, she had never imagined that one day, Xue Wanzhi would experience such an intense, almost reckless kind of love.

As Lin Jing entered the elevator, a small screen above him finished broadcasting the morning news and switched to a panoramic view of space.

The image paused on a nebula.

He had seen this nebula before, back at the Science and Technology Museum.

In the radiation of the cosmos, clouds of dust and gas glowed as they scattered, only to be drawn back together by gravity—forming the shape of a rose. Breathtaking and romantic.

The senior glanced up and smiled. “Oh, it’s the Rose Nebula?”

She continued, “This is probably the most romantic celestial body in the universe. Haha, people often use it for confessions. It has a beautiful meaning, too.”

Lin Jing blinked, tilting his head slightly. “What does it mean?”

The senior looked up, blinked a few times, and smiled. “I think it means… ‘Love from the universe.'”