Chapter 76: Compression (3)
76 – Compression (3)
The starry sky and the spaceship reminded him of the movie he had once watched with Dong Jun, which then led his thoughts astray.
No… it couldn’t be like that. The answer wouldn’t be that complicated.
What he needed now wasn’t a stroke of genius that could resolve all the doubts, but more evidence.
Regarding this, he wasn’t entirely clueless; in fact, he even had a continuously evolving plan.
Just as he was thinking, the system chimed with a notification.
User “Player X” requested to add you as a friend.
Player X?
Upon receiving the friend request, Lin Xun’s first instinct was to wonder if it might be Dong Jun, but clearly, “Player X” wasn’t Dong Jun’s naming style—because X was an unknown variable, representing something uncertain.
He accepted the friend request.
The next moment, another notification sounded.
User “Player X” requested to visit your home.
Then let them visit.
He allowed it, and immediately, a silver light appeared beside him—a man in a white lab coat, wearing black square-framed glasses. These people always chose the strangest virtual avatars for themselves.
Lin Xun saw his face—handsome features, sharp gaze, vaguely familiar. “Xue Xin?”
“It’s me,” Xue Xin smiled politely. “Senior hung up on me so suddenly today, so I was a bit worried.”
“I’m fine,” Lin Xun replied calmly. “How did you know my ID?”
“I guessed,” Xue Xin said. “Senior’s username on the school forum was this one, so I tried it. I didn’t expect to actually guess right.”
Lin Xun hummed in acknowledgment, then asked, “Are you still here to talk about that collaboration?”
“Exactly,” Xue Xin’s attitude remained gentle and courteous. “My company also hopes to establish a partnership with you.”
Lin Xun looked at him. “Which company are you at now?”
The internet industry sees frequent personnel changes—today at one major company, tomorrow possibly jumping to the next. He only knew where Xue Xin had started but couldn’t guarantee he was still there.
Xue Xin lowered his gaze, seeming slightly disappointed, then answered, “I’m at Eagle. The project I’m working on is researching strong artificial intelligence, and we’re confident we can compress the Bradley coefficient to below 1—does senior know about the Bradley coefficient?”
Lin Xun: “I know.”
—Dong Jun had already mentioned this term to him. The Bradley coefficient was used to measure how close artificial intelligence was to human-like capabilities. Below 1 could be considered strong AI, possessing thinking and learning abilities comparable to humans.
“Then I won’t explain it. In any case, we really need talents like you, senior.”
Lin Xun looked at him.
After a few years apart, the once vibrant junior had changed, becoming much more mature and steady, like a businessman who could stand on his own.
He reflected on himself, feeling as though he hadn’t made much progress.
“Thank you,” he said, “but I can’t agree.”
Xue Xin: “Why?”
“My project is nearing its end,” Lin Xun replied, not mentioning that he was already half a Galaxy person. “We’ll have to meet at the expo—I wish you success.”
Xue Xin: “I… I’m sorry.”
After a brief moment of disappointment, he looked at Lin Xun again. “If I had proposed this two years earlier, would senior have joined the team?”
“I hope you don’t mind,” Lin Xun said calmly. “I prefer freedom. Even a couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have been willing to work for Eagle.”
Xue Xin forced a smile. “I’m the one who’s intruding.”
Lin Xun: “Thank you for your kindness.”
“Well… I won’t disturb you any further, senior,” Xue Xin said.
Lin Xun: “Goodbye.”
Just as he thought Xue Xin would leave, the person suddenly took a step closer to him.
“Is your project going smoothly, senior?”
Lin Xun thought about the meticulously detailed schedule Dong Jun had laid out and replied cheerfully, “Smoothly.”
Xue Xin glanced at him again. “If you encounter any difficulties, senior, you must remember to come to me.”
Lin Xun didn’t particularly care. He didn’t really want to engage with Xue Xin, so he replied indifferently, “I’ll remember.”
“…You must remember to come to me,” Xue Xin repeated, staring straight at him as if he had something more to say. But in the end, he only said, “Well, senior, I’ll take my leave now.”
“Goodbye.”
Lin Xun watched him vanish into a flash of white light and frowned slightly.
Galaxy, Eagle—did Xue Xin know about his connection to Galaxy? And what was he trying to do?
He felt he should perhaps tell Dong Jun—the next time they met.
Facing the starry sky, he sat hugging his knees. After a while, a thought crossed his mind.
He opened the friends interface and searched for a name—Lo.
The system began its search. About a second later, it announced, “User ‘Lo’ is currently offline. Would you still like to send a friend invitation?”
Lin Xun couldn’t quite describe what he was feeling.
So, Lo was a real person.
Should he send it?
After thinking for a moment, he ultimately decided against it—better not disturb the person.
By the time he emerged from the virtual space, it was already late at night, time to sleep. Zhi Zhen jumped onto the bed and lay down on the pillow but didn’t close its eyes. Its blue, glowing gaze fixed on him—Lin Xun had come to understand what it meant. It was urging him to sleep.
After washing up and getting ready, he also lay back in bed.
He tried lying on his left side, his right side, and flat on his back, but couldn’t find a comfortable position. Finally, he grabbed a pillow to hug, which felt somewhat satisfactory—it reminded him of how much he liked hugging a pillow while sleeping. Perhaps it was this habit that led him to treat Dong Jun like a pillow the night before.
But even with something to hold, he still didn’t sleep well. He felt no drowsiness and simply lay there restlessly.
—Usually, he would drift off to sleep slowly in such restless states, but it’s easier to go from frugality to luxury than from luxury to frugality. After experiencing how quickly he could fall asleep with Dong Jun, he now felt nothing was quite right.
He tossed and turned for a long while before finally tossing the pillow aside and hugging Zhi Zhen instead. Only then did he drift into a hazy sleep.
He had a pleasant dream, a peaceful one. Peaceful dreams often leave little impression, and upon waking, he could only recall the swing in the old house, the warm yellow light in the room late at night, and the feeling of being exhausted from play, leaning against someone and falling asleep, as if another day had passed.
One day, then another.
In the blink of an eye, many years had gone by.
He looked out the window at the swaying hawthorn tree, unsure where that wisp of melancholy, light as smoke, had come from.
There was a message from Dong Jun on his phone. He was busy during the day today but would be free in the evening.
Lin Xun replied with a “Hang in there ^^” before scrolling through the messages in the “Loving Family” group chat.
The seniors in the immortal path healed the fissure beneath the children’s hospital yesterday and held a small celebration. Lin Xun, having discovered the fissure twice, was called by the seniors “this kid really has bad luck” and “but bad luck also has its benefits.”
Lin Xun smiled.
There was also other news, such as the steady progress in demon-slaying work, Yuanxiao’s recent impressive academic improvements, and Chang Ji’s breakthrough to the Golden Core stage—all worthy of congratulations.
The Golden Core stage.
His own Golden Core stage was still nowhere in sight.
Even if it were, it wouldn’t matter—the system was dormant.
But he still wanted to ask his senior brother what insights he had gained, hoping he might find some inspiration himself.
A Happy Pointer: Senior brother, are you free today?
Two minutes later, his senior brother replied.
Chang Ji: In a group meeting.
A Happy Pointer: I’ll come back later then.
Academic matters were more important.
—But his senior brother was clearly slacking off. Three minutes later, Lin Xun received another message from him.
Chang Ji: Can you get in touch with the sword cultivator?
A Happy Pointer: Huh?
A Happy Pointer: I’ll try.
They only knew one sword cultivator: Qi Yun.
The last time they contacted each other was three days ago in Mingming’s neighborhood. When Qi Yun boarded the bus, he mentioned he had to wake up early the next day—after all, he was a trainee who needed to practice.
He sent Qi Yun a message.
A Happy Pointer: Are you there?
A Happy Pointer: Finished practicing?
A Happy Pointer: Had breakfast?
A Happy Pointer: Practiced swordplay?
After sending this series of messages, Lin Xun was certain that, given Qi Yun’s temperament, he wouldn’t be able to resist replying with a long string of messages himself.
But ten minutes passed, and there was still no reply.
Was he really practicing?
But it was still early morning, not even seven o’clock. It was understandable for Chang Ji to be in a group meeting, but for a trainee to keep the same schedule as a Ph.D. student? Lin Xun suddenly felt a sense of awe for people in the entertainment industry.
He knew Qi Yun’s phone number and, without overthinking it, dialed it.
The other party’s phone was turned off.
Lin Xun frowned and sent a message to Chang Ji, saying he couldn’t reach him.
Chang Ji: I haven’t been able to reach him since yesterday.
A Happy Pointer: Do you two often contact each other?
Chang Ji: I was getting an autograph for my junior sister.
Lin Xun: “…”
Alright, fine. Qi Yun’s star career was promising.
And as a considerate junior brother, he wouldn’t let his senior brother face difficulties alone.
A Happy Pointer: I know how to find him.
He was skilled at fan activities.
Lin Xun closed WeChat, opened Weibo and fan apps, and after some maneuvering, followed all of Qi Yun’s accounts. This person’s Weibo was quite flashy, with many posts—either sharing short videos, posting selfies, or routinely greeting fans with “Good morning” or “Good night.”
However, all his social media updates had stopped two days ago without exception.
Lin Xun felt that things might not be as simple as they seemed.
He decisively joined a large fan group.
Qi Yun’s Sword Tassel: It’s been a while since we’ve heard from our brother. Am I out of the loop?
^Love Qi^ Star: Brother is focusing on dance practice~
^Love Qi^ Ning Ning: We’re also waiting for updates from our brother~
Lin Xun: “.”
Judging by the group nicknames, the vibe seemed a bit like elementary school students.
This path was a dead end. He opened Qi Yun’s encyclopedia page, followed the introduction to his agency, and went to their official website.
Before noticing any other information, he first saw the address.
He frowned, then opened the Beijing subway map.
Ten seconds later.
A Happy Pointer: Brother.
A Happy Pointer: He might be in trouble.
The location of Qi Yun’s talent agency happened to be near the terminal station of Metro Line 4—a place Lin Xun remembered vividly because Lin Kexin had told him that a rift was opening there.
Qi Yun had been perfectly fine three days ago, replying to WeChat messages instantly and frequently sharing his battle records in the group chat. Yet now, at this very moment, he was unreachable. Could it be a coincidence?
Lin Xun never believed in coincidences.
Without further ado, he and Chang Ji quickly reached an agreement. At nine o’clock, Lin Xun boarded Metro Line 4 with a cat carrier on his back—since the crowd was large and eyes were everywhere, he wore a mask.
The morning rush hour hadn’t fully subsided, and the train was packed. Zhi Zhen seemed a bit frightened, letting out a few meows from the cat carrier, which attracted the attention of a girl sitting nearby who tried to play with him.
Zhi Zhen turned his head away, ignoring her.
Lin Xun closed his eyes.
It was the second day, and the System Space was still inaccessible, but he could now see the program frames of others and himself. He had already conducted some tests—last night, he still couldn’t use the keyboard to execute any attack moves, just like any ordinary person. But this morning, he could already unleash sword Qi, indicating that the system was indeed slowly recovering.
From the system’s recovery process, he could also glean a lot of information. For example, using code to attack was the first function the system restored, which could also be seen as the easiest function to repair within the entire system. The more difficult to restore, or the more severely damaged modules, were things like the mission system.
The metro moved from station to station, with people gradually getting off. By the end, only a handful remained. Lin Xun got off at the final stop and waited above ground for Brother Chang Ji to arrive—the staff couldn’t pass through security, so he had to take a taxi.
Before long, a taxi slowly pulled up in front of him, and Brother Chang Ji stepped out, holding a golden staff.
Lin Xun: “Brother.”
“Junior Brother.” Chang Ji was dressed in white casual wear, a string of prayer beads wrapped around his wrist, still looking exactly the same as always. “Is he nearby?”
“His talent agency is here,” Lin Xun said. “Moreover, I know there’s a high chance of a demon realm rift here.”
Chang Ji: “Should we go to the company first?”
Chang Ji had always been a man of few words, and this time he didn’t ask how Lin Xun knew about the demon realm rift—this was one of the reasons Lin Xun enjoyed working with his senior brother.
Lin Xun: “Wait.”
He unzipped the cat carrier and placed Zhi Zhen on the ground.
“Be good, sweetie,” Lin Xun asked. “Where are the demons? Take me there.”
Zhi Zhen circled around his feet: “Meow?”
Lin Xun locked eyes with him: “I know you’re not an ordinary little cat.”
Zhi Zhen climbed onto his leg, signaling that he wanted to be held.
Lin Xun: “?”
Lin Xun: “Stop pretending.”
Zhi Zhen: “Meow…”
Chang Ji finally spoke up: “What are you doing?”
Lin Xun asked: “Brother, is he an ordinary cat?”
Chang Ji: “Yes.”
Lin Xun: “Just a domestic cat?”
Chang Ji: “What else?”
Lin Xun and Zhi Zhen stared at each other.
This couldn’t be.
He looked at Zhi Zhen: “I command you to remove the frame immediately.”
Zhi Zhen scratched him twice.
Lin Xun had no other options and could only put the cat carrier back on.
Following behind his senior brother, he asked: “Why does this cat sometimes act one way and other times another? Sometimes he seems very human-like.”
Chang Ji: “Schizophrenia?”
Truly, senior brother is senior brother.
“Unlikely,” Lin Xun said. “Its other form seems to possess immense magical power. Can that be explained through metaphysics?”
Chang Ji replied, “Possession, soul displacement, or spiritual communication—all are possible.”
Lin Xun narrowed his eyes.