Chapter 136
He wanted to see the child, but he also wanted to see the girl who once made his heart flutter—and perhaps still did. Ye had a lot on his mind. Seeing Jiang Jitang standing not far away, he invited him over—partly to thank him, partly to have someone to talk to.
People in the Rouge World were naturally wary of wandering humans. So over the past few years, although Ye had to trade for supplies with different tribes, he actually had very little meaningful interaction with them and certainly couldn’t talk deeply about his ideals.
Jiang Jitang walked over and sat by the campfire. He was intrigued by this extraordinary person appearing in the Rouge World. In a primitive society where even basic necessities were hard to come by, it was thrilling to encounter such an idealist.
After expressing his gratitude to the divine messenger, Ye began to tell his story.
The story of a small orphan who had been rebellious from a young age.
His parents had died early when the city was attacked by ferocious beasts. The tribe’s welfare support was insufficient for a child to grow up properly. From an early age, Ye had mastered the ability to obtain food in dangerous forests while avoiding danger.
He even defied the land-dwelling humans’ natural fear of water, learning to swim and dive. Other skills, like climbing trees, scaling rocks, and identifying poisons, were integrated seamlessly into his abilities.
This laid the foundation for his future wandering path.
But the seed planted in his heart came from a passing group of merchants.
It was a caravan claiming to come from the sea, having crossed half a continent. Among their goods were many items the tribe had never seen before.
For safety reasons, the tribe only allowed them to enter briefly. They could exchange goods and had to leave.
But Ye followed them.
The merchants had camped somewhere outside, and he chased them there. It was dangerous, but Ye was lucky—it was a real caravan, not bandits disguised as merchants.
The merchants welcomed him, showed him the items they had collected, and told him stories of distant lands.
Ye first learned about boundless saltwater pools and birds living at sea—possibly fishing seabirds. The merchants even spoke of burning mountains, like giant cauldrons filled with molten rock.
Three days of interaction left Ye profoundly shaken.
At such a young age, he had many questions:
“Do I have to live the life others around me live? Marry, have children, propagate my lineage, and then one day die at the jaws of a beast or the hands of disease?”
“Human life is so short; who knows when it will return to the Sacred Land. Can I live the life I want?”
These questions still challenge young people on Blue Star, though most compromise when faced with reality. Ordinary life might lack excitement, but it offers stability.
Ye, however, did not yield to stability. He was wild, true to his name.
In the Rouge World, once Ye began to think, he could not stop the restless drive within him. He unconsciously honed his survival skills, strengthened himself, and made preparations.
Eventually, he refused the marriage arranged by the tribal chief, took his meager belongings, and left the safety of his tribe.
“How was the outside world?”
Hearing Jiang Jitang’s question, Ye smiled. His body was covered in scars, his legs bore signs of healed fractures, yet when asked this question, his eyes held no regret or gloom—only a brightness like the moon breaking through clouds.
“Ye was fortunate to catch a glimpse; it is unforgettable for life.”
Ye’s only regret in life was that he had attracted a girl’s affection without leaving any promise.
It was the only time he hesitated after setting out on his wandering journey—whether to stop, to anchor himself.
Yet, in the end, the warmth of family could not outweigh the pull of the “distant world.” He left the fox-girl behind, carrying both the sweetness and bitterness of love, and resumed his journey.
“So this time you returned for the child?”
“Not exactly.” Ye ran his messy hair through his hands, a little embarrassed. The child was an important reason, but not the only one. He had found a reason to return and look around. As for whom he wanted to see… well, just look at that lovestruck expression. Does it need asking?*
“Because the fox-girl hasn’t married, waiting for you?” Jiang Jitang asked, curious.
“No.” Ye shook his hand, giving Jiang Jitang an answer that puzzled him.
The fox-girl had long since married. He had heard she was happy, and that was enough reason for him to come see her—to see the happiness of the one he loved.
Wishing for her happiness was second only to wandering.
“Then why the blush and shyness?”
Jiang Jitang didn’t quite understand this mindset. After all, his personal ethics were still developing. He could not wholeheartedly wish happiness for someone he liked who married another. Not stealing a partner already reflected his moral stance.
In the end, Ye himself felt content.
They talked for most of the night. Soon, the sky lightened. Ye set off for the fox tribe’s settlement, not far away.
He wanted to invite Jiang Jitang along, but Jiang Jitang had his own reason—to see the child—and he wasn’t the type to intrude foolishly. He patted Ye’s shoulder, healed the new injuries layered over old ones, leaving only scars, and watched as Ye walked into the tribe at dawn’s first light, then left the task world.
Over the next ten days, he would visit ten cities in the East District while meeting with the civil organizations that had already responded.
It wasn’t mere formality—he was also securing benefits. Uncle Wang, the supplier, had scaled up, so Jiang Jitang could now distribute special-effect foods twice a day.
The delicacies in the restaurants remained at the original share, while an extra portion was distributed punctually across the East District cities every three days, handed out by local officials to official players and trustworthy civil organizations in exchange for information on previously closed dungeons, lower-tier open dungeons, and cooperation with official policies.
Obedience earned rewards—this was the hidden meaning behind the operation.
Jiang Jitang had no formal training in governance. His university major was unrelated, and in the student council, he only did menial tasks, never leadership. Yet he had managed rebel forces, and even when surrounded on all sides, the power remained under his control.
There were no tricks, just one method: treat people like people.
Provide material needs and spiritual needs. The former: salaries and welfare in place, illness treated, accidents managed, death cared for.
The latter: mutual respect, not elevating oneself or belittling others. If you could also provide warmth and support for their families, ensuring posthumous security, they could follow him with confidence.
Jiang Jitang flew with a few people to the most remote East District city. Although in the East, it was far less developed than Jin City, let alone first- or super-first-tier cities. Consequently, player numbers were lower.
He met briefly with local officials and representatives of civil organizations, discussing local conditions and introducing the new East District player APP.
The afternoon was for free medical services, treating the city’s players.
He saw so many ordinary, idle players, scattered like wildflowers on the world’s edges—unremarkable, unnoticed, and easily trampled.
The harshness of the Rubik World was evident in them. Without extraordinary talent or willpower, ordinary people were the most likely to become cannon fodder or background characters in stories.
Most carried lingering injuries.
“Sorry, Mr. Jiang.” A treated player, still in a yellow delivery uniform, apologized.
Jiang Jitang was puzzled: Why apologize?
“I scolded you online. Soon I’ll enter a dungeon, I’ve even written my will—they say it needs notarization. I want to live a few more days, to see my unborn child. Thank you.” He spoke confusedly, hands trembling—whether from excitement or fear, it was unclear.
“Hey,” Jiang Jitang called, “add the website.”
“Huh?”
“Scan the code. See this section? Free dungeon guides for levels six and below. Find one suitable for you—first come, first served. It updates constantly, so follow it closely.”
“Free guides? Wait, I’ll add it.”
Since the city had few players, he also treated lightly injured ones, and these players added the East District player APP under Jiang Jitang’s guidance.
Other sections of the APP weren’t yet very engaging, but the information section attracted ordinary players—it contained dungeon info Jiang Jitang obtained through special-effect food quotas.
Most of the East District’s player organizations signed off, agreeing to exchange free dungeon guides for special-effect food quotas. They only received mid- and lower-tier dungeon info, but it was enough for most social players.
Remember, the East District concentrated over seventy percent of all national player organizations.
Unfortunately, compared to the number of casual players, dungeon numbers were still insufficient, and official guides were limited. Players had to check daily to grab a spot.
International sections also provided news on foreign players.
For example, the “All Citizens Armed in J-Nation” news with evidence, objectively describing how J-Nation players used schemes to thwart C-Nation players in dungeons.
Objective description, but the meaning was clear: encounter J-Nation players, treat them as militarists. Don’t harm them, but don’t let them harm you.
Jiang Jitang didn’t care about a few potentially coerced innocents—ten J-Nation players’ lives weren’t worth a single C-Nation player. Overcorrection was necessary.
In terms of public opinion, the player society was a hidden society—extremely dangerous, where high-level players who controlled discourse were survivors of extreme environments. Opinion held little sway.
He felt a bit regretful; in a lawful society, it wasn’t the head-chopping world he had once known.
Thus ended a day’s journey. Players in this city knew the East District Director Jiang Jitang—a capable healer and kind person.
They saw a benevolent figure, fitting their “dad” stereotype.
They also realized that the player society was under real-world government jurisdiction, losing some freedom but gaining safety.
“If someone harms me, someone will avenge me.”
For casual players, having a “mom in charge” was comforting.
That night, three Rouge World tasks were settled—all receiving five-star ratings. The points no longer interested him, but the offered wish stars were highly attractive.
“Huh? Was Ye’s daughter influenced by him, becoming a historically famous traveler?” The biggest wish star came from Ye’s task; Jiang Jitang thought it was provided by Ye’s daughter.
“Yes, she was influenced—she became a ‘painter,’ the earliest in history, a matriarch of the painting world, on par with her father.”
By chance, a miracle, and with that piece of parchment as the binding, two more jewels were added to human civilization history in the Rouge World.
If the system didn’t know Jiang Jitang was a perfectionist, it might suspect he knew something—after all, the deeper the connection with the task world, the greater the benefits of being bound.
