Chapter 72
Xing Shi skillfully accessed the program, channeling energy to send two messages.
The first was to the group chat: [Seniors, it seems Fu Xiuning really knows about the strategy! I feel like he’s watching me and my host. There are people around us who might be his! What should we do? I think we’re about to get taken out [crying].]
The second was to the Main System: [Fu Xiuning very likely knows about the strategy. We’re no match for him. Help us, please [sobbing].]
“Green Bean Paste” watched the entire process unfold and immediately realized that the “chance” Xing Shi had mentioned was the brief moment he used to send those messages. It protested weakly, “Darling, aren’t you going to wait for the Main System’s reply?”
Xing Shi said, “Not necessary.”
At that moment, “Green Bean Paste” knew there was no hope.
It hadn’t spent much time with Xing Shi, but it could tell that he wasn’t a soft-hearted person. It began to cry. “I still don’t remember who I was before.”
Xing Shi replied, “At least you know the truth now.”
“Green Bean Paste” whimpered, “Then before I die, I want to hear some compliments.”
Xing Shi handed this task off to 99 and turned his attention back to the group chat.
“All Consorts Are Queens”: [Just two meals together shouldn’t be enough for this. Has your host done anything to provoke Fu Xiuning recently?]
“Fortune Awaits,” previously content to play the role of a harmless good guy, now took the initiative in the face of the current crisis. It extended a lifeline to the “Green Bean Paste” duo: [Don’t panic. First, confirm if those people really belong to Fu Xiuning, then tell us the general situation, and we’ll help you figure something out.]
“Green Bean Paste”: [I think they’re definitely his people. I’m so scared, ahhhh [panicking].]
Xing Shi closed the group chat and began channeling energy to dismantle the system.
“Green Bean Paste” protested in panic, “It hasn’t even finished complimenting me!”
99 quickly jumped in: “You’re incredibly patient, you speak very well, and every time we chat, you provide positive feedback. I’m sure many would love to be your friend. You’re amazing. Take care.”
“Green Bean Paste” sobbed harder. “That’s it?!”
99 replied, “Yes. I was worried you’d miss part of it if I said too much.”
“Green Bean Paste” accused, “You have no love in your hearts!”
99 replied calmly, “But we’ll avenge you.”
It added softly, “As I’ve said before, we’re already dead. This day was bound to come eventually.”
“Green Bean Paste” fell silent.
The energy severed another layer, and its data collapsed completely.
Its consciousness seemed to drift away, and fragments of images flashed by like a long-lost dream.
It murmured, “I think I can see it.”
99 asked, “See what?”
“Green Bean Paste” replied softly, “Myself… I think I’ve found myself…”
99 pressed, “Congratulations. Who were you before? A host or a strategy target?”
It waited a few seconds, staring at the small bundle of energy wrapped in the stream before it. “Darling?”
Silence.
A faint “beep-beep” echoed—the sound of someone logging in or out of the chat.
99 paused, then said softly, “Goodnight.”
But the calm shattered moments later. Overwhelmed by grief, it wailed, “How could you just leave like that?! I didn’t even get to know the real you! Even though I know you weren’t always sincere when you comforted me, I’ll still miss you. All of you are gone now, leaving me all alone. Who’s going to share my ships with me?!”
Xing Shi meticulously dismantled the final layer before standing up. He walked to the balcony, opened the window, and let the fragments drift away into the night breeze. He said, “Stop crying. Check the group’s reaction.”
99 suppressed its emotions and sniffled an acknowledgment. “Okay.” It opened the group chat.
The sudden disappearance of “Green Bean Paste” after its tearful outburst had sent shockwaves through the chat.
The other two systems were in disbelief.
They immediately reported the incident to their hosts and tried investigating Fu Xiuning, only to find nothing on the phone’s camera. The dimly lit room was empty save for faint sounds—likely the couple watching a movie together.
“All Consorts Are Queens”: [I couldn’t find anything.]
“Fortune Awaits”: [Neither could I. There’s no trace of anything on Fu Xiuning.]
Following Xing Shi’s instructions, 99 also chimed in.
“Face-Lover Forever”: [Huh? What does this mean? Is Fu Xiuning going to avoid direct action in the future because he’s under public scrutiny? Is he changing tactics?]
A chill ran down the other two systems’ spines.
Fu Xiuning’s past unpredictability was already hard enough to deal with, but at least they could analyze his behavior back then. This time, “Green Bean Paste” had vanished without any clue, and Fu Xiuning himself hadn’t even made a move.
If this became the new norm, how could they possibly prepare themselves?
They immediately messaged the Main System, asking how “Green Bean Paste” had been taken out.
99 also sent a message, asking, “Now that this concerns their safety, those two systems will definitely contact the Main System, right?”
Xing Shi hummed in acknowledgment, closed the window, and returned to Fu Xiuning’s side.
The parents had stayed for two days and only received a vague “it’s just a hunch” as an answer. Seeing that the two resumed their normal routine of school and work afterward, the parents reluctantly left, still half-doubting the situation.
Now it was just the two of them again.
Fu Xiuning’s home theater, untouched for so long, finally saw some use.
He waited for Xing Shi to climb into bed before pulling him into his arms from behind. Together, they watched a movie.
99, observing the warm atmosphere, swayed slightly, feeling the urge to share the moment with someone.
It turned and found itself alone. “Top Draw,” “Latecomer Surpasses,” and “Green Bean Paste” were all gone.
Though they had come from different worlds and met by chance, their encounters had been meaningful. This was likely their last farewell.
Melancholy overcame 99 again. When the notification sound chimed, it opened the chat and said, “The Main System just issued another announcement, telling us to lay low and avoid getting close to Fu Xiuning.”
Xing Shi said, “Ask again how ‘Green Bean Paste’ was taken out.”
99 agreed and sent another message to the Main System.
Both “All Consorts Are Queens” and “Fortune Awaits” were persistently asking as well, eager to understand what had happened.
They wouldn’t normally press like this. Usually, they could glean details from Fu Xiuning’s actions or avoid bothering the Main System about return-trip uncertainties. But this time was different. The sudden and bizarre nature of “Green Bean Paste’s” disappearance, coupled with the tense atmosphere, heightened their anxiety about meeting the same fate.
The Main System replied uniformly: [Follow orders.]
“Beep-beep.”
A new message appeared below.
System 99: [What if it didn’t return??
The Main System: […]
System 99: [Did it really not return? Do you not even know what happened to it?]
The Main System: [Shut up.]
System 99: [One last thing—there are only three of us left. Fu Xiuning and Xing Shi are on guard. The task can’t move forward. Please issue new instructions as soon as possible.]
The Main System abruptly closed the conversation.
Since Xing Shi’s incident hit the trending topics, messages from below had been pouring in nonstop.
The Main System had already deduced that Fu Xiuning had discovered the strategy and recognized the gravity of the situation. With group awareness now heightened, the world’s barriers had instantly become stronger. Binding or parasitizing natives now required significantly more energy than before.
While netizens might forget in time, Fu Xiuning certainly wouldn’t. Xing Shi’s status as a celebrity ensured they had the means to keep this story alive in the public eye.
The Main System couldn’t afford to drag things out. The longer it delayed, the more the world consciousness would grow, making invasion increasingly difficult.
But abandoning the strategy wasn’t an option either. It had expended enormous energy to reach this nebula and sustain its attacks over the years. Giving up now would mean all that investment was for nothing—unacceptable.
Moreover, its remaining energy was insufficient for another space-time traversal. There was nowhere else to go. Was it supposed to slowly deplete its energy and return to its once feeble state?
Never.
Staring at the boundary between dimensions, it seethed with hatred.
99, after waiting five minutes without a response, closed the chat and asked, “Will it abandon the strategy?”
Xing Shi said, “Unlikely.”
Although the systems’ memories were incomplete, their descriptions of the Main System and its behavior patterns allowed him to make an educated guess: a supreme being that regarded humans as ants wouldn’t let a mere ant trip it up without retaliating.
Besides, they’d all mentioned how much the Main System valued its energy. It wouldn’t simply let its investment go to waste.
99 was about to ask what the Main System’s next move might be when it suddenly felt energy streams coiling around it.
After a brief pause, it asked, “Is it my turn to log off?”
Xing Shi said, “Not yet.”
99 asked nervously, “Then what are you doing?”
Xing Shi replied, “Adding something.”
Having dismantled a system once before, he now understood how to manipulate it without causing it to collapse. Drawing energy from 99’s reserves, he compressed it bit by bit into its core, forming a magical array.
99 howled in protest, unrestrained this time since there were no colleagues around to witness it. Its cries were full of raw emotion.
Xing Shi pretended not to hear and continued his work slowly, only stopping once the array was complete.
99 floated aside. “Are you done?”
Xing Shi said, “Yes.”
99 sighed in relief, sensing nothing amiss. “What did you do?”
Xing Shi said, “A defense mechanism.”
Satisfied, 99 asked no further questions and resumed watching the movie while quietly shipping the couple.
Before they knew it, it was late at night.
When the movie ended, Xing Shi followed his brother back to the master bedroom to rest. The next day, they headed to the company together.
As soon as they stepped out of the third-floor elevator, laughter from the lounge caught Xing Shi’s attention.
When he walked over, he saw Feng Zifan surrounded by a small crowd.
Feng Zifan’s work had been keeping him increasingly busy, so his visits to the company had grown rare.
However, he was always self-aware. Whenever he had free time, he would come back to the company to learn. Upon seeing Xing Shi, he greeted him with a smile.
Xing Shi sat down beside him. “When did you get back?”
Feng Zifan replied, “Yesterday afternoon. I have work the day after tomorrow, so I came to attend a few classes.”
Xing Shi commented, “Motivated.”
Feng Zifan sighed. “I just feel like there’s so much I don’t know.”
They chatted until it was nearly time for class, then headed to the training room together.
Feng Zifan deliberately slowed his pace, letting the others walk ahead.
On the day Fu Xiuning’s livestream went viral, Feng Zifan had been at the airport, about to leave Z City for work. Today was his first chance to speak to Xing Shi.
In a low voice, he asked, “I saw what happened with the boss. Do you think… Yu Yi might be one of those people?”
Xing Shi replied, “Who knows.”
As he spoke, he considered the current situation. With Li Yu and Sang Chenhao both being company artists—and Feng Zifan being one of his few friends in the company—he felt it necessary to warn him. “Don’t bring this up to anyone else.”
Feng Zifan tensed slightly and said, “Got it.”
Satisfied, Xing Shi nodded and entered the training room.
Feng Zifan stood next to him, watching the instructor enter, and began warming up as usual.
But the next moment, a crisp “beep-beep” sounded in his mind.
Then a cold male voice followed, emotionless and metallic: [System 01, binding host.]
