Reality Programming Association

Chapter 42: Chapter 18: Brother Yi, Be Happy When We Meet Again

His parents’ paper was like a locked black box, possibly holding secrets that could upend conventional wisdom, or even modern science itself.

Unfortunately, with his current knowledge, reading this paper was like an elementary schooler trying to understand calculus. He couldn’t even scratch the surface.

Moreover, the paper was stamped ’Top Secret—Internal.’ And behind it lay the potentially much larger truth about his parents’ accident. Because of this, he couldn’t take it to Wen Xiao or his university professors for help.

’It seemed this was as far as I can go for now,’ he thought. ’My efforts to understand the paper will have to be put on hold.’

’To crack this black box, my only option is to slowly chip away at it myself, building up my foundational knowledge and studying the prerequisite theories first.’

Fortunately, he had achieved his second objective.

Wen Xiao had agreed to help.

Although the means were a bit shady—it required Wen Xiao to sneak a look at Wen Yu’s patient records—it was the only way to get to the core clues right now.

If Wen Xiao could just confirm whether there was some commonality to the ”changes” mentioned by the families of the suicide victims, they might be able to deduce the true nature of the ”Substitutes.”

And from there, confirm whether there was a link between the ”Substitutes” and the ”personality vectorization” his parents had been researching.

Finishing off the last, slightly bitter bite of his roast duck and savory bean paste wrap—which his cousin had made without black sesame seeds this time—Yu Xian cleared the table and washed the dishes.

Rain pattered against the windowsill. Yu Xian sat by the window, opened his laptop, and continued to pore over the paper.

Research in that field was virtually uncharted territory in the academic world. He could only start by laying the foundation, gradually climbing the mountain called ’Truth.’

After staring at the screen for a long time, his eyes grew sore and his mind felt sluggish.

The chime of a new message gave him an excuse to take a break.

He opened his message list. It was from the seller for the TDI Target Dream Incubation Project.

He had pre-ordered a Phase Three TDI activation code from the guy last night. The seller had said he had almost saved up enough points and would give him daily progress updates.

”Bro, don’t worry. It’s almost ready,” came the message, seemingly out of nowhere.

Yu Xian paused. He’d been so busy with the paper today that he hadn’t even thought of bugging the seller.

After a moment’s thought, he sent a polite reply:

”No problem, I’m not in a rush. How much longer will it be?”

The reply came back instantly:

”Soon, soon! I’m about to hit the threshold. If the system hadn’t raised the exchange rate, I would’ve had enough points today.”

Seeing the words ”exchange rate,” Yu Xian was surprised. ’This TDI project is that complicated? It even has exchange rates?’

Generating an invitation code required a massive number of points, and the points had to be earned by completing ”data collection tasks” for a lab while sleeping.

’It sounded just like working a job, except you were working in your dreams.’

He was about to ask for more details on how to earn points when a voice message popped up in the chat.

A young man’s excited voice came through the speaker.

”I’m heading to sleep, going AFK now. Good night, good night!”

Yu Xian glanced at the time in the top-left corner of the screen. It wasn’t even 8:30. ’Just as he said last time,’ he thought. ’He wants to sleep the second he gets off work.’

AFK...

That word stuck with Yu Xian.

Most people would say ”I’m off” or ”going to sleep.” But ”going AFK”... that sounded like something from an online game.

Shi Zuozhou often went AFK in his games for something called a ”dragon quest chain,” though Yu Xian had no idea what kind of a dragon that was supposed to be.

This implied that for these TDI users and test subjects, sleep had become their ”logged-in” state.

’What was it really like in the dream world?’ Yu Xian was genuinely curious.

Five thousand one hundred yuan.

To buy a ticket to the world of dreams.

Listening to the rain outside, Yu Xian felt a faint sense of anticipation bubble up inside him.

The laptop fan whirred, scratch paper rustled, and the cursor on the screen blinked on and off.

Yu Xian rubbed the bridge of his nose and glanced out the window. The night had grown deep.

He closed his laptop, and the room was plunged into darkness. Only the glow from the streetlight outside filtered through the veil of rain, casting a mottled pattern on the floor.

It was four in the morning before he finally drifted into a groggy sleep, his mind still replaying information from the paper.

...

The campus was deserted on Sunday morning, save for a few sanitation workers in raincoats sweeping away puddles and fallen leaves.

He had the construction crew downstairs from his cousin’s apartment complex to thank for being on campus on a Sunday.

He’d been jolted awake early that morning by the incessant noise of construction.

He pulled back the curtains to the same gray, misty rain as before.

A perimeter of blue, corrugated metal fencing had been erected around the empty lot outside the complex.

The constant rain had probably caused a problem with the drainage system.

The soundproofing in an old apartment complex like this was poor to begin with. Combined with the ceaseless noise, trying to read the paper in peace had become a luxury he couldn’t afford.

He had a few unread messages on his phone. The sender’s nickname was ”Gala Gives Mu Gaoshou.”

It was from Shi Zuozhou. He was asking if Yu Xian had plans for the day, saying he was lonely and all that.

After some thought, he replied that he was planning to study at the school library. To his surprise, Shi Zuozhou said he’d join him.

The steps at the library entrance were covered in wet footprints.

The rubber seals on the rotating door were aging, and it let out a constant squeaking and groaning as it turned.

A blast of warm air hit him as he stepped inside. The library was nearly empty, except for two familiar figures sitting at a long table by the window.

Shi Zuozhou was reading a book, looking uncharacteristically serious. Across from him sat Yang Yiyi, a pen in hand, calculating something.