Chapter Six: Entering the Dream Once More

On the third floor was a living room of over fifty square meters, already furnished. There was one suite—at the far end, the room belonged to Li Daoran. Outside, five more rooms were set aside for Chen Ming and other protection personnel. From the Rabbit Country, only Chen Ming had a room on this floor, while the other rooms were reserved for members from Dove Country and elsewhere. Hou Liang had no right to come up to the third floor and could only wait on the second.

Li Daoran entered his room. The space, over a hundred square meters, was decorated with utmost luxury, offering him an experience of unparalleled extravagance.

He sat carefully on the sofa, looked around, and said, “Isn’t this a bit too luxurious? I’m not used to it.”

Chen Ming, unconcerned, walked to the fridge and took out two glasses of freshly squeezed juice. There was nothing alcoholic, but a variety of natural beverages were available. He sat down on the sofa in a relaxed manner, crossed his legs, and said, “Don’t worry, these are just things. For humanity as it is now, such things no longer matter.”

Li Daoran pondered for a moment and said, “Should I keep the livestream on all the time? Can I turn it off? I still need to use the bathroom and shower—having it on constantly is inconvenient.”

Chen Ming let out a derisive laugh. “Turn it on if you want, turn it off if you don’t. Frankly, who can restrict you now? As long as you’re not trying to become humanity’s god or dreaming of ruling the world, your personal affairs are your own. Even if you did want to rule the world, it wouldn’t be impossible to make it happen—after all, at least a third of humanity supports you. The question is, do you want to?”

Li Daoran shook his head vigorously, waving his hands. “Brother Chen, please don’t say that! I’ve never wanted to be any kind of ‘World Chief.’ Who in their right mind would want that? There’s not even a salary, right?”

Chen Ming shook his head, downed the juice as if it were strong liquor, and said with a trace of drunkenness, “People change. The chasm of desire in the human heart can never be filled. You’re just an ordinary person now, but who knows about the future? Did you ever imagine living in a place like this?”

Li Daoran opened his mouth to reply, but Chen Ming raised a hand to stop him.

“No need to say more. Since I didn’t kill you, it means I agree with you. Prove yourself with actions. Show humanity who you are through what you do. As for the livestream, open it if you want, close it if you don’t; don’t burden yourself so much. Whether humanity survives or perishes has nothing to do with you, understand? For all you know, if you die, we might still live on just fine.”

With that, Chen Ming stood up, patted Li Daoran on the shoulder, turned on the computer, registered a random account, and started a video livestream, connecting it to the large central screen.

Soon, netizens flocked in.

Chen Ming said, “Don’t let your imagination weigh you down—listen to the real voices of the people. Hello, viewers. I’m sure you already know the truth of the situation. If you have anything to say, just send it in.”

In no time, a barrage of comments flooded the screen. As Li Daoran read them, he lowered his head, hiding the tears welling in his eyes.

When he learned that the fate of all humanity rested on his shoulders, the pressure nearly broke him. Chen Ming noticed and considered ending his life—or perhaps giving him release. But precisely because of this, Li Daoran endured. He decided to do something for humanity. Yet when he arrived at the Ideal Nation, saw these things, and faced the world’s top scientists, the pressure returned in full force. He didn’t know if he could handle it.

“Ten-year fan here, uninvited but present.”

“Finally, a full-face reveal! And you’re actually kind of handsome—nice.”

“On behalf of all humans of Bluewater Star, go for it!”

The screen was filled with words of encouragement and support, and Li Daoran felt his heart lighten. After hours of pressure melted away, he felt a little embarrassed. He stood, bowed to the camera, and said, “I’m just an ordinary second-year college student. Thank you all for encouraging and supporting me. I’m under tremendous pressure, and I don’t know if I can shoulder this responsibility. In my eyes, Brother Chen Ming is much more capable than I am. If I were you, I’d rather he bear this responsibility instead of me. But fate chose me. I’ll do my best. Thank you, everyone.”

“Sure, our war hero is outstanding and handsome, but don’t belittle yourself. You’ve done really well.”

“Feeling pressure is normal. If I were in your place, I’d probably have collapsed long ago. You’re already very strong.”

“Turn pressure into motivation—break out of Bluewater Star and reach for the universe; this is our moment.”

“I’m a diabetic, and because of you, I’ve been cured. You’ve given humanity a new lease on life. Everyone in the world should thank you—you’ve wiped out most diseases.”

“My high blood pressure is gone, too.”

“Is my little cold even worth mentioning anymore?”

Chen Ming stood up, patted his shoulder, and said, “See? What you’ve done truly benefits humanity. I agree with you—I’m much stronger than you. I wish I could take your place. But fate chose you; that means you’re the most suitable. Understand?”

Li Daoran broke into a smile through his tears and nodded.

He leaned back on the sofa, and between the highs and lows, his mind suddenly relaxed, and he drifted off to sleep.

The shattered world quickly pieced itself together, returning to its original state.

Li Daoran found the surroundings exactly as he’d left them. Glancing at his watch, he realized not a second had passed.

Since he was here, he decided not to return immediately.

“Prove it with actions,” he murmured, gritting his teeth. “As long as I have legs, I’m good.”

He started running.

But he had overestimated himself. As a college student who could barely run three kilometers, suddenly running thirty was not something that could be achieved just by having legs.

Still, after receiving a shot of the genetic agent, his potential was awakened. With sheer willpower, he managed to push through fifteen kilometers, barely completing one lap.

In the small infirmary, a familiar face was carefully reading a file, brows furrowed.

Li Daoran woke from his fainting spell, and the close-up face startled him. Wasn’t this the beautiful nurse who’d teased him and assigned him to Class 10?

Liu Meng, who had been leaning over to observe him, was also startled by his sudden awakening, but she calmly straightened, smoothed her bangs, and pretended nothing had happened.

With a mocking tone, she said, “Little guy, how are you still so weak? Even after the shot, you can’t handle it?”

Li Daoran thought perhaps he really was too weak. It seemed others could run with ease, as Chen Ming had said—if you have legs, you can do it. Yet he hadn’t made it. He kept silent, feeling inadequate.

Liu Meng pursed her lips mischievously and smiled.

She said, “My name is Liu Meng. We’ll be seeing each other often. Remember what I told you? Don’t fall into my hands, little guy.”

Turning around, she pulled out a specially made extra-large syringe, loaded with the same genetic agent Li Daoran had received before.

Li Daoran’s expression changed. He quickly said, “Sister, what’s in that shot? We have no grudge between us, right? That needle is huge—it could kill someone.” Curled up on the bed, clutching the blanket, he looked utterly helpless.