Chapter 241: Explosive Growth
Finally, Zhao Ying Jun broke the silence with a faint smile, turning her head to gaze out at the bustling street visible through the window.
“It must be someone very important or something crucial, right? Otherwise, betting your entire life on such a decision, the sacrifice would be too immense,” she mused.
“Perhaps,” Lin Xian responded, his voice carrying a hint of reflection. He shifted the plates on the table to make room for a new dish—a chopped pepper fish head—that the waiter had just placed in the center.
“This fish head looks really good, very appetizing,” he commented, eyeing the dish with appreciation.
“Then go ahead and try it,” Zhao Ying Jun encouraged, smiling as she picked up her chopsticks alongside Lin Xian.
“This is also one of the most classic dishes in Hunan cuisine. May it bring you and your new Rhine Company great luck!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine hope for his success.
Later that evening, Lin Xian found himself at a street-side barbecue stall with Gao Yang. In his tank top, was pointing a skewer of lamb at Lin Xian while rubbing his protruding belly.
“Lin Xian, you’re finally making it big this time, landing a rich woman!” he teased loudly.“Cut it out with the nonsense,” Lin Xian retorted, a hint of irritation in his tone. He then took a long swig from his glass of beer, trying to ignore Gao Yang’s teasing.
The dinner with Zhao Ying Jun had been quick—they hadn’t lingered for drinks, just enjoyed a simple meal and departed. It was still early when Gao Yang had texted, suggesting they catch up over some barbecue and drinks since it had been a while. Lin Xian hadn’t refused the offer.
Lately, his reality had been uneventful, but his dreams continued to leave a profound impact on him. A night out seemed like a good distraction.
When Gao Yang learned about the Hunan cuisine, he immediately took on the role of a strategist, beginning his analysis.
“You don’t understand. Let me explain! Generally, a woman wouldn’t choose to eat Hunan hotpot with you unless she feels very close, has a good relationship with you, and considers you part of her inner circle.”
“Why is that?” Lin Xian questioned, genuinely curious despite the absurdity he anticipated.
“Because that kind of food messes up your appearance!” Gao Yang explained as he stripped meat off a skewer. “Hunan cuisine is spicy, so it makes you sweat, and your face turns red, right? Then you start wiping your face, and if you’re wearing makeup, it gets ruined. If you have to blow your nose, it’s hardly an attractive sight.”
“So, to maintain their image, women usually opt for less greasy, less messy foods when dining out, like Western cuisine. Now you get it? Your former boss… she didn’t see you as just an outsider at all! Bringing you home to meet her dog, eating Hunan cuisine with you—she already sees you as very close!”
“Forget it, stop analyzing,” Lin Xian interjected, finding Gao Yang’s deductions too far-fetched, especially coming from someone who had once misinterpreted Chu An Qing’s friendliness at a birthday party as romantic interest.
The evening stretched on as they continued to drink and chat. Gao Yang shared that he’d been doing well at work, thanks to Brother Wang, who had ordered many cars for his company, leading to a promotion for Gao Yang as a department manager in charge of major clients.
“It’s definitely worth celebrating,” Lin Xian acknowledged, genuinely pleased for his friend.
As they got tipsier, Gao Yang brought up another topic.
“Speaking of hibernation pods,” he began, his speech slightly slurred, “did you see today’s news? The National Scientific Academy has started recruiting volunteers nationwide. They say the initial experimental model of the hibernation pod is ready. Animal tests are complete, and they’re gearing up for human trials.”
“So soon?” Lin Xian was surprised. He hadn’t been keeping up with the news. The scientific community was advancing rapidly across various fields. Professor Xu Yun had initially estimated it would take at least two to three years to develop a usable hibernation pod, but it had only been six months, and the National Scientific Academy already had a prototype.
Although there was still a long way to go before it could be officially used, the timeline seemed to be much shorter than expected.
This rapid progress exemplified the boundless potential of human innovation. Without any obstacles hindering technological development, it wouldn’t take long for humanity to start exploring the vast cosmos.
Lin Xian hoped the hibernation pod would be operational soon. With Xu Yun and Zheng Cheng He gone—both people who had been kind and unjust victims—he couldn’t overlook the fate of Xu Yi Yi and Zheng Xiang Yue.
Once the hibernation pod was proven safe, he planned to place these two young girls inside, sending them to a future where hopefully, they could find a cure.
After finishing the conversation with Gao Yang, Lin Xian went home and browsed the latest news.
Just as Gao Yang had mentioned, the National Scientific Academy was actively recruiting volunteers and had listed potential side effects of their experiments. Tang Xin had warned about these side effects before, with memory loss being among the most concerning.
From what Lin Xian recalled in his third dream, by the year 2026, the hibernation pod had overcome all side effects except for memory loss. This progress suggested that someone had continued Tang Xin’s research and made significant advancements in the three years between 2023 and 2026.
Witnessing the timeline of countless scientists, heroes, and influential figures pushing human civilization forward, Lin Xian was struck by the sheer magnitude of humanity’s achievements. Viewing it from a historical perspective, the development of human civilization appeared as a powerful anthem of perseverance and unyielding spirit.
Important figures like Xu Yun, Tang Xin, Dr. Ponsmike, Academician Gao Wen, Dr. Ponsmike, Li Ning Ning, Li Cheng, Sister Li, and Big Cat Face—each had played a pivotal role. Zhao Ying Jun, and even Lin Xian himself, were all part of this continuous relay, stretching over 600 years.
“Now, it’s my turn,” Lin Xian thought to himself, feeling the weight of history and responsibility on his shoulders.
“Let’s go home,” he announced, signaling the end of their gathering.
There was still much to do. He needed to re-enter his dream state to meet VV and commit to memory the 130,000 lines of code that could potentially change the world and alter the course of history, bearing the fate of humanity.
The sooner he memorized these codes, the sooner he could act to shift the tides.
Time was not on his side.
From the limited clues left by Zhao Ying Jun, he knew his attempts would lead to his demise sometime before 2026. Was it going to be in 2025? 2024? Or even in the remaining months of 2023? Regardless, he knew time was critically short.
Whoosh!
A red laser beam shot past, vaporizing a drone flying beside him.
High-temperature condensed carbon particles fizzled against Lin Xian’s spacesuit as he deftly maneuvered through an anti-aircraft net, plunging head-first toward the looming statue of Zhao Ying Jun below.
After parting ways with Gao Yang, Lin Xian headed straight home, fell onto his bed in a haze, and quickly succumbed to sleep, aided by the alcohol he had consumed. Although alcohol helped him fall asleep faster, it held an unexpected advantage for him.
Once he entered the dream world, the effects of the alcohol vanished instantly. This phenomenon was why Lin Xian felt confident drinking heavily even when he had to engage in intense study sessions late into the night. Alcohol numbed his body and brain only in the year 2023. Once he transitioned into the dream set 600 years in the future, it was as though he had just woken up—clear-headed and alert.
He had discovered this rule early in his life: apart from his memory, nothing from his dreams or reality had any crossover effects. This included physical states like injuries, hunger, or dehydration—none of it transferred between his two realities.
Only the pain of death momentarily echoed in his real-life heartbeat and adrenaline, a fleeting sensation likely due to the inertia of memory.
Thus, he never worried about the repercussions of drinking; what happened in the dream stayed in the dream, and vice versa.
Thud.
He landed safely before the statue of Zhao Ying Jun.
Clang!
Familiar metal brackets snapped around his ankles as he touched down.
Lin Xian turned and affectionately patted the head of a nearby trash can robot.
“VV, nice to see you again,” he greeted the robot warmly.
….
“Lin Xian, most of the codes consist of English words or letters. Once you’re familiar with them, memorizing will be much more efficient,” VV explained, its mechanical claws pointing toward the giant electronic blackboard before them. “However, this line of seemingly random characters must be memorized precisely as they are.”
“This string of characters is crucial—it’s the voice recognition part of my program. After encoding, it represents a 0.2-second clip of your voice saying ‘VV.’ I will only recognize the person who utters this sound as my master,” VV continued, highlighting the importance of these characters.
After exchanging the secret code to activate VV, Lin Xian requested some educational aids, including an electronic blackboard, a study desk, pens, and paper. The assisting robots efficiently assembled these items under the towering statue of Zhao Ying Jun, transforming the space into a makeshift classroom.
VV, acting as a tutor, guided Lin Xian through the basics and focused on the initial codes that needed to be memorized.
Lin Xian stared intensely at the hexadecimal characters displayed on the blackboard. His eyes blurred slightly as he tried to differentiate between the jumble of numbers and letters, like 19 and AF.
He had resolved to memorize these codes as if they were plain English text, which they largely were. But this specific part, the voice recognition data, was pure, unstructured data—raw and without any inherent logic.
With no digital storage device like a USB drive at his disposal, Lin Xian was tasked with committing this entire board of gibberish to memory—a daunting challenge indeed.
“This is too hard,” Lin Xian complained, rubbing his tired eyes. “Memorizing this is one thing, but my eyes are going cross-eyed just looking at it. Even the digits of pi seem easier to remember than this.”
“No choice, Lin Xian…” the trash can robot VV replied, its mechanical hands spreading in a gesture of resignation.
“This is the toughest part of all the codes. Mastering this section is like completing 10% of the entire project. The rest is pretty much like memorizing English texts.”
“Speaking of… you complain too much,” VV continued. “What’s so difficult about rote memorization? You don’t need to think or create anything.”
“No, no, no,” Lin Xian countered, waving his hand dismissively. “Don’t judge humans by your standards. For us, rote memorization is the hardest task. It’s actually easier for us to think creatively or inventively.”
“No, no, no,” VV mimicked, waving its mechanical claws in imitation of Lin Xian. “In Rhine Sky City, it’s rare to find someone as… challenged as you are. Your memory is exceptionally poor. Even a three-year-old here can memorize 1,000 lines of code in a single night.”
“That’s because they’ve all been genetically modified!” Lin Xian retorted with a scoff. “Look at the people here—everyone looks like they’ve stepped out of a fashion magazine. Perfect figures, flawless skin, it’s obvious they’ve been genetically engineered from birth, right?”
“I don’t believe humans can naturally be so flawless, especially in a high-altitude city like Sky City where the UV rays are stronger. Their skin should be worse, but everyone’s as pale as snow. It has to be gene modification, from the fetal stage, or even the zygote stage.”
“You’re not wrong,” VV conceded with a nod of its head. “Although it might bruise your ego, your looks are considered mid-to-low tier among the men of Rhine Sky City.”
“Why would that bother me?” Lin Xian chuckled lightly. “In a city of genetically enhanced supermodels, being mid-to-low tier is actually a point of pride for me.”
“So, you’re saying any three-year-old here could memorize 1,000 lines of code overnight because of genetic modifications?”
“The brain development here isn’t just about the fetal stage,” VV clarified. “Yes, during the fetal stage, brain cells multiply, but the real potential is activated post-birth. In Rhine Sky City, we use the BaiLian vaccine to stimulate and unlock the brain cell potential after birth.”
Bang!
Lin Xian’s hand slammed down on the desk in a sudden burst of realization.
“Wait a minute!” He stood abruptly, a spark of excitement in his eyes. “Are you telling me there’s an injection here in Sky City that can enhance brain development, activate potential, and improve memory?”
“Yes,” VV confirmed with a nod. “But it’s too late for you. This drug is intended for infants during their critical brain development phases. For adults, small doses are ineffective, and large doses can unlock potential and enhance memory but come with severe risks—brain damage, hemorrhage, and a 90% chance of brain death.”
“Oh, come on,” Lin Xian waved dismissively, pacing with newfound energy. “This is crucial information! Why didn’t you mention this sooner? You’re an artificial idiot! If I hadn’t asked, would you have kept this from me forever?”
“I couldn’t say!” VV’s green eyes flashed in defense. “According to the first law of robotics, a robot cannot harm a human or, through inaction, allow a human to come to harm. I must adhere to this programming. So, unless you inquire, I can’t tell you anything that might endanger your life.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Lin Xian gestured grandly. “Quick, bring that drug!”
Brain damage? Hemorrhage? Brain death?
Those risks only affected his future self in the infinite loop, not his present self in 2023! He would wake up perfectly fine!
Just as the effects of alcohol didn’t carry into the dream world, the drug’s side effects wouldn’t carry back to reality.
Brain damage wouldn’t follow him back, neither would brain hemorrhage!
But memory could be brought back!
As long as he used the potent drugs to turbocharge his memory, embedding those complex codes deeply enough to recall later… dying in the infinite loop of the dream world wouldn’t matter!
Soon, a flying ambulance descended from the sky, and a nurse robot with a medical kit and syringe approached Lin Xian.
VV looked up at him, a hint of concern in its robotic voice. “How much do you plan to inject?”
“Just shy of a lethal dose, let’s try,” Lin Xian declared, rolling up his sleeve, ready to take the risk.
“Carotid injection will work faster,” the nurse robot suggested.
“Then let’s go for the carotid. Hurry up,” Lin Xian urged.
The nurse robot prepared the injection and pressed the needle to Lin Xian’s neck—
Hiss.
The drug slowly entered his system.
Lin Xian immediately felt as if his brain had been struck!
Dizzy and swelling sensations overwhelmed him.
He grabbed a chair, sat down in front of the electronic blackboard, closed his eyes, and pressed his temples.
The initial discomfort was intense…
But then his mind started to clear spectacularly!
It felt as if someone had poured a bucket of icy, mint-flavored candy into his skull—cool and refreshing!
As the dizziness subsided, Lin Xian felt more composed, more lucid, even hearing the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze…
“Lin Xian… Lin Xian, your nose is bleeding!” VV shouted in alarm.
Lin Xian felt warm droplets trickling onto his pant legs. It was a nosebleed, a result of the pressure building up in his cranial cavity. But to him, it didn’t matter. The discomfort was starting to fade, and his thoughts were becoming sharper and more connected, crisscrossing and sparking like clear, flowing nectar.
Bang!
Lin Xian’s eyes snapped open with intense clarity.
281e2ee64bbe6d4e53a4a136d28d28235343ebab8a8b35b3789241a9a5e127cb717314891a93baae39564b87e1c1c6909224325c1460e9c6dd273ad287274d247edd309ca75a372d15d7360db1857d106bad0896a651ac08752c83cd992176bb0e5284b…
Memorized!
The sequence of hexadecimal characters displayed on the electronic blackboard had been seared into his memory. Despite the nosebleed, Lin Xian’s mind was operating at an unprecedented level of efficiency.
“Next page…”
Lin Xian demanded, his bloodshot eyes fixed intently ahead, his voice calm yet commanding.
“Next page!”