Hijacking the Timeline

”A person is like a rainbow—you only know they exist when you meet them. So that’s where your name comes from,” Feng Qi nodded, understanding the origin of Fang Zhiyou’s name.

He grabbed a skewer of mutton and devoured it in one go, then turned to shout at the night market stall owner grilling skewers nearby:

”Boss, another hundred beef skewers, a hundred mutton skewers, and five lamb kidneys!”

Fang Zhiyou’s lips twitched as he stared at the mountain of skewers piling up on the table.

He was realizing that treating Feng Qi to a late-night snack wasn’t as simple as he’d imagined.

If Feng Qi kept eating like this, Fang Zhiyou feared his wallet wouldn’t hold out. After all, he was still a student, relying on his parents for income. The small savings he’d managed to accumulate from his living allowance were about to be wiped out by this one meal—and might not even be enough.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the thought aside and took a large gulp of wine.

Feeling dizzy and flushed, he turned to Feng Qi and asked, ”Brother Qi, can you finally tell me what I need to do to earn people’s respect?”

Feng Qi grinned at the question. ”I heard you’re working on a virtual engine. How’s the progress coming along?”

”So-so. The basic framework is complete, but there are still many areas that need refinement. Brother Qi, where did you hear about this?”

Feng Qi didn’t answer directly, instead pressing further:

”Have you considered refining the architecture of this Virtual Engine?”

”I have, but it would require a massive investment of time and resources. I even applied for funding from the technology research institute, but my application was rejected. For now, I’m focusing on my studies.”

Feng Qi, unable to find any record of this history in the database, was taken aback:

”Why was it rejected?”

”I’m not surprised. The materials I submitted were unremarkable—just the architecture of a Virtual Engine. Both the technology research institute and the United Military Department already have their own virtual simulation engines. My new model clearly didn’t catch their eye.”

”More importantly, this is a new world where cultivation studies are the core focus of development. No matter how good the Virtual Engine is, what use would it be?”

Hearing this, Feng Qi suddenly understood the reason.

From a historical perspective, he viewed Fang Zhiyou’s Virtual Engine as exceptionally brilliant, even capable of altering the course of human history.

But from the perspective of someone living in the present day, the situation was entirely different.

In modern society, virtual engines are widely used to construct game worlds, simulating realistic physics and visual effects.

Some virtual engines are also employed for scientific testing, such as experiments or evaluating the performance of advanced weapons.

However, the results obtained from virtual engine simulations often fall far short of real-world accuracy.

For example, when testing a weapon’s destructive power, live-fire trials at a weapons testing range remain the gold standard. Virtual engine simulations serve only as rough estimates, prone to numerous bugs and inaccuracies.

Before the emergence of Savior, virtual engines were essentially a ”chicken rib”—tasteless to eat but too valuable to discard.

Fang Zhiyou, later hailed by historians as a virtual genius, didn’t achieve true fame during his own era.

Instead, his legacy was cemented when someone used the virtual engine he built to create the groundbreaking game Savior.

Only then did Fang Zhiyou secure his place in history.

The parallel with gunpowder is striking. Initially used primarily for alchemy and largely unknown, gunpowder’s fame skyrocketed after its military applications were developed, transforming it into a world-altering invention.

Fang Zhiyou’s virtual engine followed a similar trajectory.

Before the birth of Savior, its utility was severely limited, and it remained largely unappreciated.

But after the birth of the ”Savior,” the Future Virtual Engine he had created shone brightly, much like gunpowder being used for military purposes.

Later generations continuously upgraded the foundational architecture of his Future Virtual Engine, making its physical simulations increasingly realistic.

Subsequently, numerous experiments in the technological and military domains could be simulated in the virtual world simply by providing detailed parameters, streamlining processes and conserving resources.

Watching Fang Zhiyou’s flushed face from the alcohol, Feng Qi realized that even Fang Zhiyou himself might not have fully grasped the profound impact his Future Virtual Engine would have on future generations.

The rejection of his funding application by the technology research institute likely reinforced his belief that his research was merely a hobby with limited practical value.

With this in mind, Feng Qi immediately said, ”Would you be interested in refining the Virtual Engine’s architecture? I’ll provide the funding.”

Fang Zhiyou visibly startled at this, then shook his head. ”This is purely a hobby for me. I’ll gradually refine it in my spare time. Right now, my studies should take priority.”

”Do you think the Virtual Engine has limited practical value?”

”Doesn’t it?”

Observing Fang Zhiyou’s somewhat dejected demeanor, Feng Qi sensed he needed motivation. He said,

”I have an idea that I need your help to refine. If we succeed, you’ll become a historical figure revered by all.”

”What kind of idea?” Fang Zhiyou asked, his curiosity piqued.

”I need a virtual engine with physics that closely mimic reality, so I can create a highly realistic virtual game.”

”Of course, the purpose of this game isn’t just to get players to spend money. My vision is this...”

As he spoke, Feng Qi explained the concept of ”Savior” to Fang Zhiyou in detail.

He emphasized that creating this game could address the shortcomings in practical combat training for students at various academies, and even drive advancements in both scientific and military domains.

Initially puzzled, Fang Zhiyou’s expression gradually turned serious.

He realized Feng Qi had come fully prepared.

Not only did Feng Qi understand the core direction of the virtual engine Fang Zhiyou had been developing, but he had also conceived a series of content that could be derived from it.

Fang Zhiyou was astonished by the scope of these ideas.

If Feng Qi’s ambitious vision could truly be realized, the future value of the virtual engine would be immeasurable.

However, lingering doubts remained in Fang Zhiyou’s mind. He turned to Feng Qi and asked:

”If I perfect the Future Virtual Engine, how do you plan to develop the game?”

”I can help you with the physics rendering, but the trajectories, algorithms, and other aspects of art magic will require extensive real-world testing. How will you handle that?”

”Even with a top-tier team, testing each art magic individually would take decades. By the time this game is finished, it might be decades from now.”

Faced with these questions, Feng Qi smiled.

”You don’t need to worry about that. For now, just focus on perfecting the architecture of the Future Virtual Engine. I’ll provide the financial support.”

”Oh, and the art team will need to work closely with your Virtual Engine. We’ll need to train new talent in that area, so you’ll be responsible for that as well.”

”I haven’t even agreed yet,” Fang Zhiyou muttered, unable to resist.

If he doesn’t agree, just send him back to that bridge and let him keep jumping! What a waste of breath!

Ignoring the Narrator’s grumbling, Feng Qi smiled and said, ”So, I need your answer now.”

Hearing this, Fang Zhiyou hesitated.

Feng Qi’s plan was undeniably tempting.

But considering they had only met once and he didn’t know Feng Qi well, agreeing to such a grand scheme so hastily seemed reckless.

The plan sounded tempting, but he wasn’t naive. He knew that implementing it would require immense effort.

Moreover, the outcome was far from certain. All his hard work and dedication could easily end up being a futile endeavor.

Yet, after talking with Feng Qi, he felt an inexplicable pull, a magnetic charm that made him want to believe.

Especially Feng Qi’s radiant smile, which never left his face, exuded an irresistible warmth and approachability.

After a moment of hesitation, he spoke cautiously:

”Even if I agreed, my parents wouldn’t. They want me to get into the Cultivation Technique Research Class at Star City Academy.”

Hearing this, Feng Qi grinned. ”What are your chances of getting into the Cultivation Technique Research Class at Star City Academy?”

”Zero. Honestly, I don’t even like Cultivation Technique Research. I’m only trying because of my parents’ expectations.” Fang Zhiyou sighed.

Hearing this, he thought of his best friend, Mo Fei.

Mo Fei’s parents wanted him to get into the combat class at a prestigious academy.

But unlike Fang Zhiyou’s parents, they never pressured Mo Fei, allowing him to choose his own path in life.

In contrast, Fang Zhiyou carried the weight of his parents’ expectations.

”If you have zero chance, does that mean you won’t get in?”

”I suppose so. Interest is my motivation. If I’m not interested, how can I find the drive to study?”

”Is that why you were dating in school?”

Fang Zhiyou felt awkward under Feng Qi’s teasing gaze and took a large gulp of wine to hide his embarrassment.

”While I can’t help you get into Star City Academy, our Virtual Engine development and Virtual Game studio will be located within the academy. Your parents should agree to that, right?”

Fang Zhiyou looked stunned. ”The studio will be inside Star City Academy? Are you serious?”

”Completely serious.”

”I don’t believe it. Star City Academy is a cultivation academy, not a technology academy. Setting up a technology faction studio there is pure fantasy. How could the principal possibly agree?”

”Unless you bribed the principal with a fortune, making him take a huge risk to approve it,” Fang Zhiyou added skeptically.

Feng Qi wasn’t surprised by Fang Zhiyou’s skepticism.

”If I told you our studio facilities—including accommodation and meals—are provided by Star City Academy, and that apart from attending classes, our treatment is virtually identical to that of the students, would you believe me?”

”Are you drunk, or am I?” Fang Zhiyou asked irritably, glancing at his wine glass and feeling dizzy.

”Neither of us is drunk,” Feng Qi said earnestly. ”If the basic conditions weren’t met, I wouldn’t have come to find you specifically.”

”So Star City Academy actually agreed?”

”Exactly.”

”On what grounds? I want to know why Star City Academy agreed to your terms. Did the principal take a bribe?”

”Because I’m a genius,” Feng Qi grinned.

”Geniuses are a dime a dozen. That’s not why Star City Academy agreed to your terms.” Even now, Fang Zhiyou remained skeptical.

Faced with his disbelief, Feng Qi pulled out his Star City Academy faculty ID from his pocket and slapped it down in front of Fang Zhiyou.

Then, as Fang Zhiyou’s expression turned to utter disbelief, Feng Qi produced a palm-sized Human Outstanding Contribution Silver Medal.

”Just brought these two things. Not bad, right?”

Everyone, come quick! There’s a living dead person here showing off, and the situation is spiraling out of control!

The Narrator couldn’t resist shouting out at this moment.

(End of the Chapter)